Monthly Archives: August 2006


"Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care"…(Macbeth)
Peace, just sleep, that will mend the seams that threaten to open up in the very fabric of life. I live in constant watchfulness, lest the next moment unravel me.


…thirsts for a sky-revealing rage
an eagle drive of eye and wing
to kill this blueness
this blinding air
this blinding, tearful air.


to penetrate–to permeate–
my thought and this,
drape the words over jutting elbows
lend grace to the fall, and satisfaction,
to achieve in simultaneity
the catch of breath, that deep black air.

There are no words to describe…

There are no words to describe
how one lives or dies
Words will always make trivial one’s struggles
Thoughts overcome once and once again
Little marches, fasts, indignities
Suggested to one’s nakedness.
Old, old and creaking
creased membranous soul pottering about
twilight rooms of memory;
The world is a bare cocoon
cracked open when one stumbles
and cannot bear the laughter of a second childhood.

Old Scraps–Losing heaven on earth

So often we perform a good deed and then chide ourselves for knowing it so. Chide ourselves for wanting heaven, and then crush ourselves into a spiral of hatred and self-hatred, and let anguish poison the deed itself. How easily we lose ehaven on earth.

Old Scraps-War

When I read of war these hands dig deep into the soil, soil wet underneath. As though the roots of time could soothe the burns of civilization.

Old Scraps-Sunlight

I came into the house from sunlight, light still warm and burning on my shoulder-blades, and I saw the house, that had been light and dry just now, a dark and soft thing everywhere, silent and unresistant. And the darkness persisted, though my eyes would close against this painful obscurity, persisted till I settled down to write.
Just so is our transition from laughter to pain. So our unwillingness, so our sufferance, until the balanced light of day comes back and satisfactorily counterpoints remembrance.

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