Tag: poetry


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

              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 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

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