in broad daylight \ it pushes
and pulls towards distress
\ whirling about as it pleases
: ill-fated lungs
, the massacre prolongs
… to see the setting sorrow
, there , in the depth of
tremors , fevers , to parish
from it : metamorphose ?
oh trauma , oh human
… of these lifeless bodies
, unraveled from the inside
–– slow illness , crippled breath
, viral crown
: the orange king’s legacy
one day , maybe , yes , maybe
, one day , yes , to end this
critical body attack
, to end this stealth invader
, to end this serial killer
to end this burden placed
–– persistent death toll
engraved in stone
: another life , missing
Saying All There Is To Say
There’s beauty in the strangeness , as in
night moths flying under icy fog
, or the dull moon , like a dying birthmark
, or a flock of snow geese , illuminated
as white teeth : that static charge
from your dark eyes ; your voice
, like words from a frosted pane .
A red dawn’s collected crows , flocks
of black monsoons , songs of wood
and whisky ; autumn’s paper leaves
, a tainted stream of wind : barefoot
, your toes in the mud , the water
echoed your mouth : a nocturne
, requiem , cathedral of clouds …
our bodies , cloth bags : we carried
the other , lovers groping for
the past . I untangled your hair
: your eyes , empty shells .
I tried to remember the positions
of your kisses , the spiced sugar
of your watery tongue .
Winter came , a web spun from
chimney smoke and dead skin
, a droopy sky’s guttural cadence
; you gathered your wants
, the many scrapes of heaviness .
A crater cracked , then opened
, what remained fell in …
your Punk lipstick stained my sheets
, I lifted you to taste the corpse inside
your heart : a field of dark holes
, marble stones , a nest of cold roots
: that electric dawn shocked me .
I woke up
and placed you at the curbside .
Invention Of A New Meaning
Humans are in the wrong place
, we don’t belong here
, this is not our home , we must
disengage from gravity .
We’ve been tricked into believing
, we don’t belong here : disengage .
We are in the wrong place
: recharge your imagination , let go .
The truth has been lying to us
, take comfort in knowing this .
If we stay here
we’ll lose our sense of logic .
The truth has lied
, we don’t belong here . This is
not our home .
We need a new truth : use your
We need to silence language
––use your imagination
: the truth is lying .
The Uncertainty Of Glass Locks
Ten-minutes to noon from one-o’clock
, even humans look ancient and childish
, simple and ignorant : always moving
forward , never getting anywhere . To
take religion seriously , as if just having
been born yesterday . Then , suddenly
a sky filled with dry pigeons and thirsty
brass bells : all of humanity is hungry
, and there’s a chunk of soul in each
of us that belongs to this old modern
world because the distance from here
to the kingdom is driving madness to
rear its drunken head . Here , now , is
reality , a mixture of blessedness and
bitterness , when the hour before noon
is nearing ten-minutes to one , and the
threshold of inner-darkness , the revel
– ation , the shady Paradise , Space with
its cold pain , motions for us to stop
breathing , to lie down , unmoving and
silent . Life is an emptiness that cannot
be filled . Earth is a stranger , the love
– liest of strangers . Dogs are the most
loyal of all . Cats will betray you . Roses
draw blood . Behold , the dangerous sun
, the sour sky , hope nailed to the walls
of the infinite , nailed to the cross , nailed
to the remains of illusions . Oh , such dra
– ma , such magnificent drama : the erratic
key in the unsound glass lock : fragile life .
Let the future never come to pass , let it
be forgotten how wrong all of us were.
An Eye Is Seen , And Still Another
The sky’s big mouth : from a distance
, fingers of clouds in spent light
, the wings of crows closing , a day ends
, dusted with hours
… in a church , a man on his knees
tries to lift his prayers to the sky
, but down to the floor the words fall
, the church custodian sweeps them up
A woman with dark eyes lights a candle
, shadows pass in plain sight , alone
the woman faces emptiness , the world
closes in , her fingers are nervous
… outside , there’s a woman singing
with sad eyes toward the infinite , her voice
, so human , is hard to listen to , clouds
darken , her fingers are calm
There’s this feeling of higher up that
they don’t understand: no one can say
what watches from behind the sky . Perhaps
some prayers have made it that far
… what they can’t see is more attractive than
what they can see : something moves in the air
, a breath from further on , the wind is nothing
, a hollowness in front of them
Life dies across eternity : somebody on a knee
, somebody lights a candle , somebody’s sad song
, somebody sweeps up sorrow : an eye is seen
behind flashes of lightening , and still another
Author foto by Juliet Menrae, 2019 DAH’s ninth poetry collection is
SPHERICAL (Argotist Press), and his poems have been published by editors from
the US, UK, Ireland, Italy, Germany, Canada, Spain, Poland, Philippines,
Singapore, Australia, Africa, Japan and India. He is a multiple Pushcart
nominee, Best Of The Net nominee, and the founding editor for the poetry
critique group, The Lounge.
Author foto by Juliet Menrae, 2019
DAH’s ninth poetry collection is SPHERICAL (Argotist Press), and his poems have been published by editors from the US, UK, Ireland, Italy, Germany, Canada, Spain, Poland, Philippines, Singapore, Australia, Africa, Japan and India. He is a multiple Pushcart nominee, Best Of The Net nominee, and the founding editor for the poetry critique group, The Lounge.
DAH lives in Berkeley, California where he is working on the manuscript for his tenth poetry collection, and his poems have recently appeared in Poetry Now!, Straylight Magazine, Otoliths, The Cape Rock, Acumen Journal, Sandy River Review, Indian River Review, Junto Magazine, Mad Swirl Magazine, New Mexico Review, Setu Journal, and Fishbowl Press.
DAH is also working on his first collection of short fiction.
Dah, I read these earlier today, so full of the waves, storm and still a bit of hope for us poor humans...Love your strong voice.ReplyDelete
Nice to hear that this work comes across.
Thank you for the feedback.