Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Tkhine in Elul



1.
Mother, father,  birther sof the cosmos
shimmering light over everything
I gaze on trees
guarding night from ocean
standing at cliff's edge
where a wind chases empty words
down along the shore
waves bow and then withdraw
as so many of the living drown
and leave the dead to float
in this smoky tent of dreams
laced of cinnamon.

2.
In my house of corrections
I can't stop from playing
a historical ballad
giants swallowing ogres
who shout Uncle.
Those idiots were full of shit.
You and I knew it. Ask any bank teller
along the estuary for his side of the story.
But what could I fix?
And was there anything
I really wanted?

3.
Love
any day you spend the night
we move across time zones
orbiting from living room
to bedroom
holding on to each other
like keys to the house,
traveling over lakes, mountains,
renegotiating treaties
fought in past wars.
All my renegade heartaches
fall asleep.