irrupt

passion perforce irrupts
like a swat team through the door
like a tsunami rushing toward the shore
and though it drowns you still you want more
and more and more and more and more and more

tincture

under the blood moon

she downs a tincture 

and dances sky clad

entreating the heavens

that shower her 

in moonlight 

to wash her clean 

of the stain

that colors her soul 

and the moon

 

anthropomorphic

I talk to the mirror 

I talk to the chair

I argue with people 

Not even there

The teacup and I 

Are quite friendly, at least

The clock and the candle guy

Work for the Beast

I wander the castle 

And sing with the dresser

My pillows, the priest

And the chaise, my confessor 

It's hard to be lonely 

When completely surrounded 

By anthropomorphic objects

Who confound me

The dining set feeds me

These little green pills 

The hat stand repeatedly 

Tells me I'm ill

So I bury my head right 

Far down in a book

And only come up

When the Beast comes to look

They say when I'm "lucid"

I call him my husband 

But he locked me up here 

I've been told by the dustbin 

popinjay

to know 

that you don't 

know that is

is to be filled 

with doubt

but open to growth 

to nervously fidget and fuss 

searching for meaning 

in the mess

meanwhile 

the popinjay preens

serene in their certainty 

and stuck like a specimen 

trapped in a tray

one way more confusing 

but still, I think,

the better way

nebulous

sun pours down
head tilts
back to bask
eyes closed
as warmth
washes over
in nebulous waves
riding the surf
of daylight

retrodict

at the ending
we are become
detectives in
a dime store crime story

pouring over facts
and fabrications
and false starts
to surmise motives

to retrodict the narrative
that led from there to here
searching for pivotal points
attributing antecedents

but try though we might
we never really know
we study history hoping not to repeat
the lesson we thought we learned before

mansuetude

resolved
at last
to struggle
no more
they float
as the tide turns
and takes them
from shore
out to sea
buoyantly adrift
in the swell
of mansuetude
exhibiting a passivity
that ever eludes me