starfire_girl Poetry (15)

There stands death.
A bluish distillate in a cup without a saucer.
Such a strange place to find a cup
balanced on the back of a hand~
A shooting star that fell into and from my eyes
sparkles there~
~not to forget you
~to endure.

Frank my Love,
If I should die tonight, I'll see you
in the borderlands
of Now and Then
of Once and Again.

Mystify me, Love
with ovals of colored light,
never seen in the daylight of this world;
Offer me with your slender-fingered open palm,
the swimming grace
of the ocean you now see
that I can not,
and I will gift
the empty chalice of unawakened love
that could not find us in the proper frame
of time or miles unfurled
and I will lift
up high to you the memory of
the gasp and sigh of touch and dreams
where a promise is as fragile as blown glass
and every thing is truly as it seems.

~LCZ

ONE MUSIC

The Universe electrically, magnetically charged
breathes.
Light-waves of perpetual motion
uni-(one) ~ verse-(vibration):
One frequency
charging~ All particles. All planets.
All Stars. All worlds. All people.
Your heart beats~
ba-boom ba-boom...
Press your hand to your heart, feel it?
Plug your ears tight, do you hear it?
ba-boom ba-boom...

Your child's heart beats.
Your neighbor's heart beats.
All hearts beating at once, here-now;
hearts beat in some who sleep,
some who wake,
Walk. Sing. Labor. Hunger.
Weep. Curse. Laugh.
Search.
All hearts beating out the same rhythm.
Same rhyme. Same Word
as in the beginning
No one separate from the other.
All hearts beating connected
with God's intention of Life
with Gods intention of Love;
surpassing all understanding~
One world 7 billion strong.

TRADING DISASTER FOR CRUMPETS AND TEA
(is something I only learned how do after you)


For you, my tall endangered one
I wrote
your name across the sky
with reckless blood
not breaking contact with
your storied eyes
And knocking on that driftwood heart relentlessly.

You did not let me in.

I watched wide-eyed
as you played
hop-scotch in the mine fields,
paddy-cakes with the devil;
you said to me, “I’m a survivor
and I’m dangerous.”
You were.

I watched wide-eyed
your vain attempts to plant the sky
in your backyard
with an ordinary spade;
the far-flung stars of Orion
as your seeds~

Who did I think you were?
(a god in simple street clothes?)

Yet I believed in you
Your dreams were vast
But vacuum-packed
unblossoming and fruitless, you lived with
deft disregard
of your own highest good,
and everything I thought of you as well.

I’m not pointing fingers
but you were the one
who carried hurricanes around
in your back pocket
lassoed them in when you
felt cooled or spent, you
were the one who walked
life’s curvatures
without looking up ahead

You balanced, tommyhawk,
the serrated edge
wondering at the bloodshed;

and you massacred my heart
without intent.

Each time I stepped outside my door
into your life, the landscape shifted;
then I’d be down, babe, for the count;
and while I regained my bearings, you’d
be a mile ahead
escorting the wind
without a plan.

You made of me
an isolated wandering star
blue with burning cold,
bright untouchable.

And now I must confess,
I would rather have walked
into a tea shop, babe
and ordered simple

crumpets and tea.

Ali
where did you go?
Your fallen crown, your resurrect,
your voice so strong,
lost to the restraint
of misbegotten fate.
We, your progeny
remember: ALI
your blood and spate and voice
that flew about
(float like a butterfly)
Ali, your chin was strong, and stern
your black, proud
your fist a terror frozen, high
(sting like a bee)
your fight much bigger
than the tiny square
you danced as if
there were no rules, no doubt
as if you never knew regret.
You gave each one of us
a little bit of free.

Ali
in Africa (they chanted beyume)
you danced a legendary
fought the boundaries
of hate, the rot of prejudice, you knew
no shame, you spoke in proud, your chin
was strong, your fist flew straight
and always, high
we heard your voice, we saw
you rise and never fall,
Ali, we won't forget.

October,
breathing fire
returns;
sweeping the contours of the hills
until the shrouded wood
exhales
into brittle phantom lines.

The starlings are back.
They amass the giants;
these ancients oaks that line my street,
making huge reckless noise,
voided speech.
A goliath black mass
cloaking the high,
immaculate blue
stunned into cloudless watchfulness.

Somehow they remember
this point in time,
this board they keep,
a depot
for these millioned
dark visitors, alone.

I think they carry the signature memory in
the ovum of their unborn,
I think they
swooping in for a moment,
pause in celebration
to the collaborative passing
of the swift orangeblack
colors of their day.

I watch wide-eyed and silent
from my doorway
at the great cacophony they create,
all talking at once to no one listening,
cloaking the trees
like shifting black leaves.

Then, from some holystone cue,
they lift at once-
like a single thought
to a chanted destination;
-requiem for summer’s mirth
born like a longing
in the vessel of the earth.

YOU TURNED UP MISSING

You waylaid the galaxies
with the slip of your hand
sewing light years together with
silken word-threads
(borrowed spider webs)
you walked without spoor
without disturbing the grass
in the lull
in between our storms.
You used sagebrush and raven feathers
in your timeless prayers,
a broken clay pot at your feet, humble-proud
oh I loved your mind I loved your way.

You said, 'I don't trust anyone don't clip me
don't fall in the cracks wait for me
on solid ground
I'll meet you on the wing.'
I believed anything
was possible in your light.
You sang me silvery
in your half-delivered song.

You painted kaleidoscope pictures
(with the broken toys left you)
on the waiting night-canvas
beseeching me, making sense of nothing
that counted;
but you counted nothing
by numbers, -by standards, -by comme il faut
You counted by the birdless sky
and the wayward stars the
drifting leaves and desperate gaps
you spoke your life by.
You listened to the space
in between the beats
unable to heed the signals
I knew feebly how to give.
You canceled our class in the middle.

I said,
'Establish the boundary, my Love.'
You said,
'Trade ME for something of value.'

Tears are made by every twist of the heart.
But priceless were your offerings
now more remote than the cold fingers of space.

My cat whose name is Moses
wrote the laws
he is The King and not some alley cat
he forgives my awkwardness
and smelly paws
and he knows when I go out the door that I'll be back


He knows when we walk side-by-side
down the hall
my step is sure, I will not swerve or sway
He knows who rules this house
and who does not
and if behave I'll be allowed to stay.

IN THE COMPANY OF STARS

Somewhere beyond this blanket of snow
gently powdering the earth in s i l e n c e
stars (maybe souls) shine brilliantly on
in deep space,
keeping watch.

People search for each other and never connect
sometimes stepping over
or around one another
like jewels on the ground
softly shining.

Others do~
(connect)
but then as time yellows parchment,
forsake each other;
~the fallen angel of hope
that dies outside the lovers heart.

Maybe, they might have made it.
Maybe not.
Maybe the Truth is:
we are in the company of stars;
but we are never
we are always
more than ONE.

THE EVIDENCE OF GHOSTS

I was four years big
and I thought the world was in chorus
just for me.
~My father told me
and I believed.

It was on one of those apple-green days
that my Daddy bent and kissed me on the cheek
and took a sharp left
right out of New Jersey
and headed west for my Auntie's house
to the vanishing land called 'o-high-o'
though I did not calculate her
in the sudden and absolute
hush of the world.

Twenty years after or so
when I was about a century old,
immersed in my Raphael-visions
freezing the world with my paints and my ink,
and rescuing everyone else to feel safe;
Mama once said,
(more than less a hundred times)
'when your heart is thick in the handshake
of Love, you may think
this one's the razor-red truest
but men come and go
and love may escape your heart.'

'It is your children alone
that become the legends of your life;
Though they may tip your world high and low,
they will never
escape the circle of your heart.
It is men that come and go.'

My mother told me
and I believed.
But Daddy, it was you
who showed the way.

POINT OF ORIGIN

You were an immaculate presentation.
You had a way. When you held
my hand and strode
your proud visage down
the unimportant avenue,
you rivered me in. I felt
reborn. We were high-kicking
to the blueplains sky
and more reaching. I still see
your wind-dark hair trailing you,
and the way you walked, so intentioned
delivering yourself to every step.

I still see the fragile
curve of your moonwashed cheek
accents, the depthless eyes holding
me in place. I still feel you
moving in me, burning trails
across stark vistas, imprinting us
in endless artistry.
I thought
you were the point of origin.

But around the edges, I knew
there was something
about you, Love,
red-rabid unreal.
You were always just beyond.

Time's creaked through
the laughless grandfather clock
in my room; I believe
it's been a year
since last I saw you
walk away from me, hands stuffed deep
in your denims
collar gulled up
high, your careless hair waving reckless goodbyes
your funny raspy voice
still thrumming in low octaves
some senseless words against my ear,
'I love you;
see you...'
Later never comes.

I am bleeding through.
I can't find any one point
to stop this judas-seepage.

and somewhere, in the world,
you still walk away.

STAR FALLEN PROMISE

It was hard to watch you pirouette
with your goliath-sized demon
-romancing your inner death each fall-away day

the matador dancing a dangerous lie
the crushed flower beneath preoccupied feet
looked a little like me, in a curious way.

Against the red red sun your silhouette
burned hard your darkling image into my eye
so that not even in sleep would you fade away.

Await on the threshold of some greater cause,
I teetered, not knowing which way to freefall;
in a chasm the size of the Milky Way
~you stamped out your name…
~Oh~ I guess that was my soul, after all.