Tuesday, April 26, 2011

tundra


to return,
to pry open,
to pierce stone,
to recover the days of the orange sun,
of hope that would swell,
bursting energy,
excitement slicing through,
the lush green fields,
through rushing rivers,
the lost tundra,
the fresh wind,
to hold that,
again,
to have it,
box it,
bronze it,
keep it,
lock it down,
forever,

I could use it these days,

of cyber hugs,

digital kisses,

plastic skin,

rotten land,

and oceans of sewage.

Friday, April 15, 2011

black turning


black turning inside,

holding when you wanna fly,

knock it out.















Monday, April 11, 2011

we will return


it was repeated in my dream,

"is there beauty in the horror?"

she said:
open up the windows,
open up the doors,
open up the gates,
open the dams,
flood the rivers,
let the rains pour down,

relinquish us from us


rise
up
out
of
the
water

onto the earth

notice the sun shining down,
notice your shadow on the ground,
notice the faces all around,
notice the plane in the sky,
notice the sound.