Into Their Hands

And into their hands
as so many pebbles
And into the wind
as so many seeds
And washed away
as so many castles of sand
three hundred dreams
three hundred families
three hundred times three hundred lives
juggled
tossed
lost
as if a game
as if ink on paper
as if some-thing-else
could be blamed
Such is command
such is power
where stewardship
is not a word
or idea
or plan
Rather the difference
between
help and hurt
hand and heel
heaven and hell
between what was
and what is to be
between the legacy
and the damnation
So into their hands
choices made
And into their mind
is the question laid:
two families?
or three hundred?

Blue Lights

Blue lights
or white lights
encased in blue plastic
twirling
blinking
on the hood of cruisers
in the winter night

Blinking on the road
near to home
a road travelled often
a road I was on
this night

I had stopped at the store
and she had preceded me
the one that wore a ring
the one that left before me
the one that would be driving
the same route home

I turned the corner
and it felt like Christmas
early dark
whipping cold
a long hard day
and those blinking lights

Annoyed
I remember
my first thought
so close to home
so many lights
and groceries too
how long would we wait

My car slowed
as the ones before me
and my mind did too
as I recalled
the love that drove
this very route
before me

Would my life
in this moment
change perspective
as it changed forever
and what seemed so hard
seemed a pittance
in the glow of light
Twirling blue

Alone

All alone
at the end of the hall
shinning bright
day and night
my dear lamp

Forty watts
eternal vigilance
cloaked in shade
silent dedication
until

Tonight

Tonight was not
as last night
or the many nights
that I have known
before

Tonight--a little
less heat
Tonight--a little
less light
for Tonight
is not as the
night before

Tonight will be
a little colder
and a little darker
and the bill
I hope
will be a little lighter

For Tonight
on my way to bed
there were two clicks
a new sound
a simple sound
that the night before
would not have been noted
would not have been accounted
would not have been paid

But tonight is not
yesterday
and the click
is not without
intent
and thought
and concern

My dear lamp
sitting in the hall
all alone
in the dark
out of work
by a hand known;
a feeling I know
a feeling we share
cold
dark
alone
for who can feel the pain
of another?

Two

There are two colds
the cold of the morning
before the heat is turned up
and the cold of the night
when there is no heat
no heat upon which to turn

There are two hungers
the hunger of the patron
late for dinner
and the hunger of the child
who knows his empty bowl
will remain barren

There are two leavings
the leaving of a loved one
who will return in the evening
and the leaving of service
held as bells toll
as widows weep
as clergy drone

I am cold
I am hungry
I am leaving
and I cannot not tell you
of what cold
of what hunger
of what leaving

For there are two fears
the fear I can face
that I can stare down
and the fear whose shadow
is greater than the sun
that warms my world

You see, I fear the cold
the cold of the shadow
and my bowl,
you see,
is as round inward
as my belly is outward
and the bells I hear
I've heard before
but the bell that tolls for thee
never sounds like the bell that tolled for he

643. Faces of Glass

Kyra gathered the crew in the main conference room. "I'm going to keep this short. To hell with Kulmyk." She surveyed the eyes, all looking like frogs in a pond. "Tonight, we set sail for destination unknown. Objections? Good. Snazzle, take us to hell or hound but by Janus take us."

"Ms Kyra?" asked Ariel.

"Yes."

"Can I say the blessing?"

"Of--"

"You know, like Rog says, if we gonna ride, we best bless the hide."

"Absofrailinglutely!"


Faces of glass
reflecting
without
and hiding
within

May Janus
and my mom
tell my dad
to stop
being an anus

For Bravo
is our home
and Kyra
our captain
and eyes are best
when kept
on our quest

Thunderheads Purple

Thunderheads purple
Playing chess
at 30,000 feet

A snapshot
A life
A past

I do wonder
Who that guy was
Watching Thunderheads
Purple -- Playing
at 30,000 feet

Headphones on
Planning
Reading
White Heat
My Dear Love
at 30,000 feet

A private universe
three hours
maybe four
watching Thunderheads
playing chess

The Last Time
never
announces itself
so rude
Those Thunderheads

Majestic Mountains
Formations robust
of grey and white
and mauve
Opaque billow

Today, tomorrow
ten years from now
I will know
I saw what I will never see again
at 30,000 feet

Why it makes me sad
a mere memory
which today
seems so much more
a moment
not realized
Life
not lived
not but for the remembering

So I sit tonight
and what is now
is not what was
and what is to come
is not what I know

A sentimental fool
I will not deny
give me my agave
and give me my memories
at 30,000 feet
and Thunderheads purple

Readings

Hare, Tree, Flower

Poppy Red

Blood as Coin

Endogenous Etiology: 5

Intermission: Wet is Wet

The stress comes like waves
or like squalls on a summer day

Relentless
of its own accord
schedule known only
to itself

The sun can shine
its rays as words
nice
but relatively useless

Like waves, the stress comes
Like summer squalls on a summer day

Constriction
as spume
a calling card to say
I am here

Here as calling card
My boss wants you to know
On his way
He wants to say

Wave or ocean all the same
tricks of the mind
we play with name
but call it what you will
wet is wet

Reading of the Intermission Chapters

Readings of the last seven Intermission chapters.

also on iTunes

Intermission: The Fur and the Fury

Lamps as my witness
night after night
I turn the wheels
rusty and trite

Two blue pills
water and glass
sleep will come
and night will pass

The dawn is near
much like my dear
and the dawn is far
much like our star

Hands can reach
and hands can hold
but what is seen
is not what's cold

And a dog may lay
beside my rib
inspiring pen
to drag its nib

A snore content
and dream exhaled
of squirrels pursued
and capture failed

Fur and hair
and a black nose too
love with paws
and a toy to chew

Dusk or dawn
matters not
the joy is there
and never forgot

This lesson each day
I am taught
but why I find
it so rarely caught

Still they run
and jump with verve
never failing
of this I observe

Waiting patiently
by the door
with yip and yap
my heart does soar

Dancing haunches
gams like springs
furry pogos
such joy brings

Tongues wagging
and eyes wide
they lick me
from hat to hide

Home is measured
in sprints and wags
of this much
I can surely brag

Video Reading of Suckle Word and Verse: Chapter 633

Video taken on my new Flip Video and handheld (by me) while reading from my laptop. Something just a little different than the previous video taken with my iSight camera on my computer. Nice change of angle, I think.

Query

If you miss The Story, leave a comment. Any detail as to why would be appreciated. If you are content with whatever I post, such as these intermission pieces (with or without the art) let me know that too. Thanks.

Intermission: Eyes Without Language

I see vacant

Brutal silence

Tone as dictionary

and I don't much

like eyes without language


I prefer the truth

of fingers

and the youth

in a natural curl

Smiles thrown

natural as dusk


I want my nights dark

My sheets white

and to defy myself

in bitter fruit

electrified on the barbs

of convention


My tongueless head

aches of release

tortured within

skin too tight

Can you give

a brother a hand

Intermission: Brittle Illusions

I've seen people age
the grip on their illusions
growing weak
their bodies brittle, antique

The river never ceased
to course and flow
as levees failed to crest
their talents seldom stressed

Across the pale limpid sky
processed our sustaining yolk
casting fatherly shadows
in forgotten windows

And those that remain
stand in coats
cold as winter
wondering why

642. Heading Back

Wormhole to Kulmyk

Intermission: Stand with Me

I stand before the vast forest
that shares my name
A tremor of doubt,
a sliver
will you come out

I stand before all
my infinity
Bound as bound can be
the two of us,
in Tennessee

I stand in the dark
before a path I cannot see
How quickly night fell
my head spins,
its own private hell

I stand, hands behind my back
listening to murmurs of branch and leaf
My feet move, my body doesn't
I remember a past,
wondering, if, it wasn't

I stand of face and crimson cheek
cold and wet with reality
I can't go back
nor change what was not
but seek a star, against the black

So Stand with me
of this I ask
and let's atone
what our minds conceive
for the mountain, ours, to own

Intermission: You and Me

I can talk
My heart can reach
But life don't work
that way

I had dreams
Hopes
Visions of how
it was going to be

Not sure who I was
kidding
Not sure why I held
on so long

But my fingers hurt
I'm tired of trying
when the cup I lift
quenches nothing

One day your phone
won't ring
and it won't be me
on the other end

And the pain
won't be mine
it will be ours
You and Me

Look at my eyes
you won't see a tear
those were spent
long ago

I wish you well
May fortune shine your way
and you see a smile
I see only in my mind

Intermission: Not in a Letter

It won't come in a letter
neither email
nor note
although you may possess them all

It will come in the quiet
in the night
A cold sweat;
In a faded sunset
Tepid water
and a gnawing
in the pit of your stomach

Your mind will race
without really going anywhere
and blame will be portioned
neat as pie

Sugar will fail to sweeten
Salt to spice
and the voices you hear
will be inside your head

Papers will pile
Magazines unread
Meals half-eaten
And Bells will toll
without mercy

Your smile will
never be the same
Your hugs, cold
lacking the vigor
of a future

Realization
always
leaves
the
light
on

Intermission: A Day at Home

My room has no door, for my imagination is not great
and sometimes my own thoughts are so sad
a circuit breaker trips in my mind
and I cannot think at all
There are other times---
times when the pain is so great
so dully intense
that I seek the inverse of love
--a temporary fix
I could jump and yell
but in my room, no one can see me
no one can hear me
no one even knows that I am here
so, I am stuck
neither here
nor there
neither seen
nor heard
and the desire to
touch
know
feel joy
becomes so great
I feel at times
the sheer burning of desire
could consume me
as a black hole consumes light
I live in a room--dark
Outside, kids, dogs, trees
I watch a sun that gives me
no light
no warmth
and I am tormented by a joy I can see
but never feel
never know
never have
In the distance
I see flowers
I will never pick
A breeze
I will never feel
and I observe children
frolicking with dogs
and the emptiness
inside
grows
in proportion to unrequited tears
I know there are giggles
and laughter
but I can no more hear them
than the blind man can see
They skip and run with colored balloons
let loose into the sky
rising
falling
I feel
feet of lead
slipping below
silently slipping
deeper
My Cold
Silent
Indigo
Coat

I live in a room--dark
My room has no door, for my imagination is not
so great

641. Come Ply My Waters

Fear
Doubt
Worry
Hurt
as
Air
Water
Food
Roof

Happiness
Joy
Compassion
Love
as
Desert
Mirage
Sun
Thirst


T: I want to thank you.

E: For what?

T: The last thing an unhappy person wants to hear is that they shouldn't be unhappy.

E: (kisses his forehead)

T: (pulls her tight)

E: Penny for your thoughts.

T: If I were a cup . . .

E: Yes?

T: You'd be my water. And you know what?

E: What?

T: I don't think I could survive much longer, without you, than I could without water.

E: Well, baby, if you feel that way, come ply my waters.

640. I Made You Tea

Overheard, Trev and Em:

T: I made you tea. What more can I do?

E: I gave you my smile. What more do you need?

T: Be the Hall for the strings of my voice.

E: Do you not see infinity in the glint of my eyes?

T: Only the moment in the curve of your lip.

E: Show me.

Intermission: A Day at Work

Behavior speaks
Words don’t
Past unfolds
Truth won’t

Assumptions made
Apologies not
Righteous rain
Falling hot

Agendas blind
Heated heads
Midnight labor
Fixed beds

Eyes stare
Seeing deuce
Mind moving
Running loose

Fingers numb
Pen dry
Report due
Noon high

Views recorded
Opinions weighed
Stories told
Loudly neighed

Anticipation dew
Upon brow
Action considered
Confounds how

Hands tied
Bloody hue
Judgment demands
Quarter due

Relationships matter
Scores deceive
This most
I believe

639. My Humble Plea

ed note: another first in the story--the chapter below is in alternating verse (Kyra speaks first, then John) and uses an alternating rhyme structure, giving each character a unique voice, so to speak. John has made his decision as to whether he and Ariel will stay or go (with Bravo)--Enjoy.


Have you a decision made
I ask if only
hope should fade

I have, I have
a decision prayed
and just this morn, I did made

Pray tell my friend
this decision made
Judge not I, to pretend

My daughter, Ariel
as you know
needs a place, in order to grow

Of course I know
the child is first
seeds to sow, upon the row

Yes, this is true
I have no doubt
nor no need, for me to shout

No need to explain
my dear friend
my heart is not in pain

Quite the contrary
my kiss in a bubble
but I must explain, to keep from trouble

I am afraid
I do not understand
nothing here have you played

Yes, yes, you are right
for the girl I asked
carries upon her visage, no mask

She is a treasure
apple of our eye
how else to measure

Well, your treasure
I am here to say
has told me, she wants to stay

Stay, stay you say
how could you
with so many words, delay

Delay my dear
would take intent
and that certainly, would I repent

Might you may
on bended knee
my heart you lay, on silver tray

Then bended knee
it shall be
I pray you accept, my humble plea

638. To Our Lust

Trev to Em. A little something for her pillow, penned while she was in the shower. Translated from the original Hynerian.


I lie in bed
my wooden head
a nail I see
sharp point to my forehead held

My wood is soft
fir or pine perhaps
the effort needed
not all that great
(the effort required
neither compass nor maps)

My head is still
still like death
brown I think
the hue of, not much left

Hold me baby
in your arms
hold me sweetness
within your lap

I feel your nails
upon my scalp
raking thoughts
like autumn leaves

Thoughts of deer
perhaps a doe
run through my mind
as water down a row

I feel your warmth
oven mitt safe
and dream of rivers
gushing over my face

I want to stand
where only the few
are given the privilege
to partake a screw

You will gladly bend
from hip to toe
as I prepare the rod
for slake and plough

Smile you will
of that I promise
for the sheath revealed
will do asunder

A tear perhaps
of joy and wonder
we will kiss
as stolen plunder

I shall take
what I deem to be mine
and you will give
me sweetest wine

Drink we will
to our lust
you and I, lover
forever must

Headache gone
and plans most tragic
by fingers divine
if not magic

637. Through the Waterfall

Em: What is that?

Trev: Another poem.

Em: Can I see it?

Trev: No.

Em: Oh, come on, let me see it.

Trev: I said no.

Em: I'll take it from you.

Trev: (gives her a look)

Em: You know I can.

Trev: Alright.


Within the Sturm und Drang of battle
I stood in bristling silver
friend and foe as walls
within a small village

I swung my instrument
or so I thought
for where one fell
two or more ought

In blur and swoosh, my head
I lost, while planted;
the cut was clean, merciful
of this I was granted

An arc of one motion
swing and fall
as head to ground
midnight quiet

As space expanded
a solitary voice
spoke in fear not clothed
a naked thought

A walking through the waterfall
clean and pure and bright
of all that could have been
had but I, embraced the light

Trev: I know it seems, well, less than romantic.

Em: Really?

Trev: Look, here is all you need to know. You are the light.

Em: (smiles)

Trev: Now come give me the affirmation found only in the dark.