cleothedog

Tag: poetry

 
 
1.1

each time i ask
              are we really going on with it?
this time
yes

              we can’t go through it like that though
that’s going about it
all the wrong way

a carlight glimmers in the mush
 
 

 
 
reflection of a windmill
            spinning very fast
in non-traditional shape of modern building’s window
 
 

 
 
how can the sun set so fast?
it must be heavy
in the sky
 
 

 
 
you come to me
your breath smelling of cheese
            smoked gouda and cheddar
say you need a hug
 
 

 
 
“we”
we are the mice
and the world is the big strong beast
with the thorn stuck in its paw

we are the night
and its valiant protector
the earth

we are the silence between pauses
and the sentient
 
 

 
 
sky white against black trees
try as you might to get back here
seems such a trial just to say it
but there’s our bed and I made it
 
 

 
 
what a beautiful thing
the way the sun comes in
through the bathroom window
in the middle of the day when you’re
showering
 
 

horizontal
feel the fire licking my feet and
the wind sweeping around my ears

“Search into the depths of Things: there, irony never descends—and when you arrive at the edge of greatness, find out whether this way of perceiving the world arises from a necessity of your being.”

—Rainer Maria Rilke (Letter Two, excerpt)

(Letters to a Young Poet, translation by Stephen Mitchell, Random House, 1984)

 
 
perhaps it’s over i wonder
hovering on top of It

how does it happen?
i wonder
hanging on top of hooks