Poetry

Two Poems

April 25, 2014
Matter in Retreat
 
The stars drift
away from one another
 
tonight as every moment you
& I breathing so thoughtless a living
 
we make as we are made to
as I make another promise
 
to myself to try to mean more
to you to call out across
 
a great distance but I am not
loud enough I suspect I have not
 
enough protest in me
the arc of my throat awaits
 
a tenderness or a brutality
& what are we
 
to one another but a means
to a meaning we haven’t yet
 
discovered two points of light
on the inky dark
 
sky two paper boats
on a black lake floating further
 
away every day I awake
I roll over I hide my head
 
we get smaller our living it’s pathetic
I mean it makes you sad
 
 
We
 
have been the buyer, the bought
  the boy’s blood in the dirt
 
have been the woman in winter
  the knife of her hunger
 
have been the knife at her throat
 
have ravaged and burned, been burned
 
have been the rope that hangs
  the hands that bind the hands, that set the flame
 
have been a land cleared by the flame
  a land lit by the moon
  a sky cleared by lit homes
 
have been a man reduced
  to a body, a body to bones
 
have emboldened, been made bold
 
have been uplifted, held
  under, mourned, been mourned
 
have been a tale told
  and untold
 
have been a language lost
  owning nothing of ourselves
 
have been a love that dims
  the line drawn between us to remind
 
have deceived, been taken in
 
have been destroyed
have been beginning
 
have been discovery, a new fruit
  growing ripe within our skin