Posted on Nov 6th, 2009
by
Doug
I wonder about you,
you touch people all day,
on your feet,
hurt.
You seem touchless.
the crystal on the kitchen table
next to your pink phone
unringing,
you left it there
because it was silent for you now.
You leaned in the doorway
after you knocked
and said you were hungry.
I drummed tonight
until my hands were numb
the rain today
loosened the skins
so resonate and deep
humming a song
I haven't ever heard before.
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Posted on Oct 22nd, 2009
by
Doug
ee cummings
because i love you)last night
clothed in sealace
appeared to me
your mind drifting
with chuckling rubbish
of pearl weed coral and stones;
lifted,and(before my
eyes sinking)inward,fled;softly
your face smile breasts gargled
by death:drowned only
again carefully through deepness to rise
these your wrists
thighs feet hands
poising
to again utterly disappear;
rushing gently swiftly creeping
through my dreams last
night,all of your
body with its spirit floated
(clothed only in
the tide's acute weaving murmur)
Emily Dickenson
Heart, We Will Forget Him
HEART, we will forget him!
You and I, to-night!
You may forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.
When you have done, pray tell me,
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you're lagging,
I may remember him!
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Posted on Oct 20th, 2009
by
Doug
It's OK I got your last message
in the space the silence left
A ring flinged into the muddied river
it's all such a dream
row, row, row your boat
gently down the stream
merily...
And I know it's all slight of hand
and my own hands fool me
into feeling
I have touched
and what I have touched
is the ragged edge of disconnection
That I offer an empty gesture
nothing but winded.
How is it that I could love you?
and the hours pass into day, into week,
years that I don't have to give you now
Other then my words
which I gave to you
and that is all
I could ever give you.
Is this how I make you feel
when I go away,
when I slip off the edge of this tenuous image world?
a world where I can't touch you
fingers, tongue, blood.
but I sent you me
in the shape of letters
for you to weave our worlds.
I thought you dreamed me?
On the pink highways of New Mexico
your phone does not answer me
I can't see you in the dust storms here
On the dark hills of Vermont
I couldn't forget you
You told me you wouldn't meet me there
I waited til my shadow fell
I paid the rent
on the cabin,
two nights I paid
and it was empty
the bed unslept in
because you were never coming to me.
How many times will you dis-invite before I disintegrate,
disengage, disappear, dis-remember?
Why, for these minimal guarded words you give me now,
do I spill my gifts for you?
And why would I care now,
now that even my words are invisible to you?
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