I’ll put on my best suit and walk into the ocean.
Adjust my tie as the water eats up my ankles.
Check the time when I’m in to my waist.
Fix my hair when my lapels are soaked with brine.
I’m dressed to marry my silent lover,
and have her drink me in till the end of time.
there’s a suffering in these woods,
that gnaws at the bones of the trees.
the rocks and roots and all in between,
ache and sigh with the August breeze.
the rivers weep with whitewater moans,
the leaves fall to the earth without a sound.
and the forest’s ghosts shed silent tears,
for lives they lost but never found.
my love sits beside a liquid mirror;
the waters cannot sate the hunger
of the endless sky.
so blue in their desire, starvation
leaving the mountains gagged silent in their despair.
but still she stands in their ragged, tortured beauty,
perfect against nature’s dying day.
there’s fire on the horizon,
grey smoke bellows from the coast
into thin white puffs of cirrocumulus
that line the edge of the champagne ceiling.
the twilight’s approaching us at the speed of forever
creeping on like a panther in the trees
waiting, watching for when we turn our backs
to the stars that start to light up the sky.
I had dreamed that I found you here
somewhere between the wind and the waves.
And among the ragged river weeds,
I’ve realized that I just lost you yet again.
I will paint you in wildflowers
that I’ve gathered from the valley below.
Baby’s Breath to frame your face,
Sweet William to fill it in.
Cornflower will lighten your gaze,
Foxglove to kiss your lips.
Maybe I’ll leave some arnica
in your rough fescue hair.
It will look beautiful with
your dress of white camus.
But even in their untamed shades
of red, white, blue, and gold,
The most vibrant of these
only bears your name.
The Mating of Latrodectus mactans
Oh God, I writhed in pleasure,
When she sunk her fangs into me.
Among the folds and twists and knots and kinks,
We feigned struggle between silky sheets.
And her poison is my pleasure,
Oh how she’d sting again and again;
Till the venom filled my veins
and drowned out the voice of my heart.
My love, she held me close,
and drank me dry till I was no more
than a husk of a man left
in the sun on a single string.
lets go back to nature,
where the trees grow strong
and flowers bloom uninterrupted
by things that commonly complicate life.
I miss the simplicity
of your smile that breaks over
the silent mirror of a lake;
I long for the sound of your voice
singing through mossy trees
like birds in flight looking
for a perfect perch to rest.
let’s do away with our constructs;
or walls and wires that turn molehills into mountains.
let’s go back to nature
where love and life are one.
the forest weeps for the tragedy of the upper classes
white walls laid bare by the tears from the sky
tears through perfect wallpaper till the bare wooden frames
of their right-proper origami constructs
beg to go back to Mother Earth where they can again sleep safe and sound
in a bed of nitrogen and blanket of dying leaves
I skipped a rock over the glassy lake;
a mirror reflecting the empty sky with a sigh.
in the vast emptiness of the above and the below
only a lone stone filled the void with the weight of the earth.
carried like a cloud
borne high on the summer winds
love, life, wilderness
I still see your smile in the summer breeze
and the color of your hair in autumn trees
I still hear your voice in the winter sun
and your laughter in springtime rain
I can’t shake off your dream in moonlit skies
where the stars dance like neon lights
and the evergreens shiver in the frigid night
like my heart when I hear your name again
I’ve tried to run from those dark brown eyes,
but they found me in the bark of trees.
I’ve tried to hide from that lavender voice,
but it found me in the song of birds.
I’ve tried to push away that vanilla skin,
but it found me in the ocean’s touch.
I’ve tried to leave it behind,
but she’s all around me, and that-
that’s just too much.
The woods are deep,
silent as the night, and flight
of a hundred and eight mosquitoes at sunset.
Weary light filters through cedar arms,
a slow, soulful embrace that sends
the sighing sun to sleep.
Though the subdued crunch of undergrowth
is the only sound that breaks the ancient quiet,
I still hear your whisper in the shade
which has never ever left my side.
he tends to her leaves when they are lush and green,
caresses the knots and imperfections of her skin.
and in the winter, he’ll cut her branches;
watch as he cuts and cuts her down.
little does she know that he breaks his back,
so that she may not break when the winter comes.
I want to fall asleep in the arms of the night sky
be wrapped in the cold of her starry embrace
because though uncaring, she was always there
to give me solace in my times of need