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Saturday, June 1, 2013


One thousand, blinking, blind, blue voices

Speaking pitter-patter—laughing splatters of
Blind, blue voices—bleeding from just under the
Cool skin of the window panes, drops of drinkable death from a dark body—a world
Drops of sparkling songs from a dissolving heaven, twirled
Drops of drops, and just maybe drops—okay
One thousand, blinking, blind blue drops
Whispering wisps of dreaming sky
Angelic as they come streaming by
In the thing’s arms I’d like to die
Smiling in its sweet, its icy sigh
Because it’s something like a deity
And though it may never love me, at least it’s a swear
That something else is out there
This singing being in the air
That warms me with its chilly stare
As I read paper pages in golden light
The world bright and right, with a colorful bite
A thousand words sliding down the window panes
I don’t know what they say
But they can’t go away
Because they’re delicious like prayers
Spectral and rare
Mysterious, momentary—godly keys
A faceless mother for me
Translations of spirits, gifting
My eyes and ears, in their dissatisfaction, discontent
Disappointment with sunlight and seeing
I’m inexplicably happy, being
As it rains
And it rains, rains, rains
With the percussion of precipitation
The silver palpations
The weightless sensations
The thousand, blinking, blind, blue voices
Praising, blazing, glazed with days
Spent in “the above”
And they murmur,
You. Are. Here.

And my very human fear
Is suddenly dear
The very queer quacks of songs we make
They are for Rain’s sake
Yes, we’re here—stuck on this island sphere
Only with our angels, these
Divine quiet voices