BITS

Tags

Alien, cannibalism, Desire, Humanity, hunger, identity, loneliness, love, poem, poetry, science fiction, transformation, Twist in the tail, Universe, woman

BITS

So long on
the planet

have begun to

think
like the planet

look
like the planet

mountains of alien
thrusting up
through my
flesh as
new landscape
takes place

which brings me to
my humanity, species
that needs company

and thought of
my hunger, my loneliness

whether I need partner
for love or
just
to
chop into bits.

OF THAT RECIPE

Tags

death, Humanity, poem, poetry, Rebirth, Universe

OF THAT RECIPE

chatted
to a star

star told me
they would
soon claim me

take control of
“the dust
that you are”

and from that dust
new life forged

but none of
that sad, flawed, speak-to-
the-stars
stuff

no more
of that recipe
the cosmos
not
having any

FIT

Tags

Alien, erotic, female, love, male, philosophical, poem, Poet, poetry, poststructuralist, science fiction, sexual symbolism, touch, Twist in the tail, Universe, wordplay

FIT

there is an alien species
swarming in my bed

their queen
whispering sweet
alien nothings
in my ear

telling me that
we are
made for each
other

her wings
are enough to carry me

and that, in spite
of the tricky
linguistic differences

we are
a perfect fit

PALACE OF SLEEP

Tags

afterlife, Creation, Creativity, death, Dream, Keats, Poe, poem, Poet, poetry, Rebirth, writing

take me to the Palace of Sleep
where the air is hashish-heavy
as thick with dark autumnal cloud
as anything written
by Poe or Keats

sky dragging itself across
as if stuck somewhere
and out to test the winds

but let me
sink into that darkness
night so perfect, it is the null equation,

there
where words are absorbed, lines, phrases
disintegrate, are so carefully dismantled
scattered like leaves
on a river, like momentary
phosphorescence on the ocean

no dream here, at least
none that
is remembered,
only the blending of
currents, change,
reconfiguration

she said that I reminded her of Keats once
this before she got married
but after we
were lovers

perfect sleep in her arms then
no thought of
darkness, any kind of
renewal, rebirth, re-
definition of self

as figure who writes
not figure who loves

the gates to every Palace
secretly open
unbeknownst to me
at that
most lost of lost moments

REBIRTH

Tags

poem, poetry, Universe

REBIRTH

the poem
is a shell

the poem
is just
a husk

it is
an afterbirth

something living
was here

something reading
finds rebirth

ANEW

ANEW

quietly
you passed

and now
you cannot tell me
where you are
now
(not even
in hushed tones
as if family secrets)

whether it is all childhood rainbows
remembered fields and
songs not
sung for
such a very long time

or
to take a different tack
(different
path selection)
a returning to the source,
slow swirling with the great spiral arms
of the galaxies

and the giant stars
in whose furnaces things
we cannot imagine

the seeds of
the cosmos
as it
scatters life
anew

TORC

I have
lost the plot

must have
(like the cake
in the song)
left it out
in the rain

the stars drip
like hot icing
this is a vision
I cannot bear
cannot sustain

something is
growing, moving
in the sweltering
darkness

I flap
like a starfish
about to go
nova

out of this
wreckage I pull fire
I pull gold

nothing will ever (he
snuffles and snorts)
will ever
be the same.