Moment of Perfection

The spotlight of the cheddar moon
Reveals a path of wonder
Along the salt-bleached skipping stones
And sandy mattress under.

Eliot is in my ears
Echoing his verse
Of white-blown waves and mermaid song,
Of universe and curse.

The skeletons of driftwood beasts
Form jungle-gyms of white,
The moon-bleached bones of ancient trees
Are dragons made of light.

Poseidon roars and claws the shore,
His whitecaps snatch for life,
The gravity of Artemis
Enchanting him to strife.

I do not fear, I step in awe
And from perfection there I draw
The mystery of love and law
Within the poetry that I saw.

Butter

Sometimes, spread like butter over you,
I ache to be a salve instead,
Soothing your sores and
Quenching your furies.

Last year as you dozed and discovered delirium,
This restless being lingered and longed,
Eyes full of fire on your body ablaze,
Watching you fly by on bright fever-clouds.

Last night as you puttered and slumbered and snored,
This throbbing spirit pondered and pained,
Whispering into the silent expanse,
Offerings of honor and wishes of love.

Breach

Somewhere in the wilderness Mystique
Resides a pool.
More broad than deep,
More still than frothy white,
A simple splash of sorrow that reflects,
Reflects like eyes of glass or polished stone,
Sorrow spilled upon obsidian bones.

Somewhere in the city of Duluth
Resides a girl.
She knots and weaves
A rope of shredded books,
A rope of drowsy hours and lecture sweat.
It weaves around her waist and then her chest,
A snarl of paper ivy on her breast.

Somewhere on the faultline of I Am
She crashes through,
She claws through the
Crevasse into Mystique,
She sips the sapphire poison of the pool.
Her rope constricts, she smiles and is still,
While ripples spread and vanish…

Gentlemen, Avert Your Eyes

I bleed out like a gutted fish on a cutting board,
Prepared to be the juiciest of sushi.
My body bloats, a floating corpse,
Waterlogged and gaping.
A basal calling scoffs and scorns my empty womb,
Lifeforce leaking down between my legs.

Persephone Descent

Persephone Descent
I am Persephone, wild and beguiled.
I summer a princess, but winter in hell.
My air holds the sunlight,
My eyes dark with midnight,
Of springtime I sing but of sepulcher smell.

At gravity's bid, I descend without end.
I freeze and then shatter in Hades' embrace.
He sucks and he claws me,
And nothing will thaw me,
Debased with his black frost, resigned to disgrace.

Dawn, I awaken in shudders and flutters.
My true lover welcomes me, anguish concealed.
The ice on my heart cracks,
But my womb, it roils black,
I carry my shame, as of yet unrevealed.

Insidious spawn, abiding inside,
A parasite seedling of underworld sown.
Burdening my lightness,
And suckling my brightness,
Poisoning me where exuberance once shone.

I am Persephone, mistress and listless,
Fettered, possessed for a season each year.
Look away from me
Lest you become me
For sharing these shackles is my greatest fear.

Brad Paisley Doesn't Know the Half Of It

You’re the smile in my laugh and the quirk in my smile,
An awkward seduction, but flawless beguile.
You’re depth-charge espresso, you’re cold feet, warm core,
You’re a wet inner-ear and a drop to the floor.

You brush me with thunder and light up my eyes,
You’re forever to bed and much later to rise.
You’re a touch on the back and a skip in the heart,
You’re a glance at the clock and a beautiful start.

You bolster my passion and make my knees weak,
You’re the five-o’-clock-shadow-born chafe on my cheek.
You’re a jazz vocal solo, a country guitar,
A clean-cut persona and rummage-sale car.

You’re an awkward-length forearm, a wonderful scent,
You’re slow to catch on, but rapid to repent.
You’re a hand on the belly and kiss on the nose,
A secret romantic I love to expose.

You’re many a thing and you’re hard to define,
You’re a prayer and a blessing; I’m glad that you’re mine.

Surfer Boy

You ride my tides like a slick-styled sea surfer,
Afloat and thriving in the turbid swells.
Out of nowhere, a white-winged wave will whip you down,
Roll you like an underwater kamikaze
Thrashed by the leviathan of an ocean of emotion.
You surface, sputtering slightly,
Saline seawater trailing from your eyelashes,
Only to sigh succinctly, smile with the spark of adventure,
And once again begin to patiently caress the surface of the crests.
You surf the flow high and low, shallow, chasm, calms and storms,
Riding smoothly, aptly, imperviously, like the athlete you are.
You know my gravity and atmosphere and sometimes
You pressure and pull with potent power
Just as subtle
And just as prevailing
As the tenderly glowing moon,
Persuading the very tides you ride.