Tag archives: clouds

Down to Earth

“Write a poem about an angel turning human.”

Hello heaven,

can you feel my gravestone

linger like the one day cold?

You made a tumbling world move

pushed every curve into herds

pushed every pound into pines

in one thousand ways, this rock alive.

Yet, here I browse in the subway-

watching rats in the dark

shuffles in the cracks.

God’s gravity has grown so stale,

once overfilling and now just drizzling

like the graffiti I feel on my own skin

lighter with the memories.

Disengaged from the wind- I ache,

waiting for my wings to froth and fro

with me old temperature that fought the ground

until the clouds showed me rain

and I pelted and pelted with the water down

and mud and snow and the grey

and then I am the wild shadow called human

skimming through the blinking universe

bridging the cold and the hot

searching for a breakthrough,

breaking everything for a handhold in the sky

where one day I will return,

and the winds with take my home.

Free the Trees

“A poem about free will and convention in an arboreal setting.”

If I were the wind,

I would whip the clouds away,

until the trees asked for water

to unwind the skies

and let the rain roar down.

If I was a worm,

I would curl in a secret hole,

explore the brown deep,

and itch my back on the spine

of the rocky earth.

If I were the trees,

I would praise the clouds,

chat with the worms and birds,

and hope the humans

never want to break the root.

for the root is all,

for a tree that is.

Because the plans of a tree

do not exist, unlike

our plans for trees.

but a tree may still hope,

because a will is not hooked

to an intelligent brain,

but it is an automatic flair for life

to live and live more.

So before you dismiss the natural

tendencies of unbroken will,

please be wise to the design of words

like will, freedom, and life,

so all that lives has the will to be awake.

Onward Downward Falling

“dizzy vertical drops”

The air in my head formed a pretzel,

salty and fashioned like hard bread,

unbundling my sanity on the fall

Onward, the memories plunge into me.

wind howling with ancient tempest

all purpose taken by the scooping clouds,

I feel my neurons screech criminally

they break and crack, raspy; crunch.

Onward, the sky screams into me.

Into the dizzy blue, all past above,

controls blasting away from memory

panicked knots of visions hot, singeing the sky.

Onward, the Earth plunges into me,

one shadow flickering through sharp branches.

Relax

“It’s 10 pm here, it’s still light but I can’t see the sun anymore, it will probably be dark soon and I think it’s going to rain later, as I can see dark clouds gather at the horizon. Right now it’s still warm though, so I’m enjoying every last minute.

I’m sitting in my backyard in my lawn chair, browsing reddit, listening to the birds tweeting, hearing the church bells toll in the distance, my cat is purring at my feet and I’m drinking a fine whisky. My wrist injury doesn’t hurt anymore, but I’m going to leave the bandage on for a little while longer. I just saw a bat fly by.

Life is good.”

The flocking clouds fly leisurely,
like songs of a lost church bell
looking for the beautiful distance.

The purring of my cat warms me,
as much as the drizzling whiskey
calling me to listen to every bird chirping
and follow every shadow of the bats.

This is the time of perfection,
and this is when I breathe it,
and let it slowly exhale
and feel the earth wind slowly
around my lawnchair.

Lost Roadtrip

“Roadtrip”

When the red wheel rolled west

we were dripping and feverish

like buds on a stalk once tied to the brown

we clicked into gear and grabbed the road

like birds scouting on the sea for land.

When faraway suns came close

we were straddled tight and still moving

we shuffled into the untethered distance

like the deer learning to speed across plains.

When the sky brought red roses from the east

we were slipping from wind to the breeze

hurtling slow like clouds forgotten

curled fists on the steering wheel

waiting for the distance to catch us.