Wolfwalker
Posted by admin on May 23rd, 2010 filed in PoemsComment now »
Die Wolfgangerin geht in der stillen Nacht
Sie schreit laut an dunklen Löchern
Ihre Stimme trägt Wahrheit mit der Macht
Des Ton ehemaligen Glocken
The Wolfwalker walks in the quiet night
She cries loudly at dark holes
Her voice carries truth with the might
Of the sound of former bells
A Little Room for Cream
Posted by admin on May 12th, 2010 filed in Poems, UncategorizedComment now »
The line at the coffee shop is long
with retired schoolteachers, students
skipping class and Bishop Jesus Christ
Buddha Ayatollah Brett Favre Jones.
His enchilada wrap is slow to order,
So he sits and thinks of going home.
They stare at the dreadlocked prophet
who waits alone, away from scents
of lavender bath soap and god.
A pierced bottom lip delivers tortilla-
wrapped eggs and beans, framing
you’re welcome like a painting
of the top of her young tongue.
He licks the last drop of salsa
from his mustache, ready to dance.
Buddha’s Boots
Posted by Britt on December 30th, 2009 filed in PoemsComment now »
The Guardian was tasked to carry the cosmic egg to the temple of light. There, a serpent would be born, who would breathe fire into the universe. Steadily, she walked in Buddha’s boots, one to the east, and one to the west. But she tripped on a thought, and dropped the egg on hard nothingness. The white Yang ran out and became the sky. The yellow Yin oozed forth and became earth. A world was born, but a universe would never be. Thank God there’s still a chicken.
(Photo by Gina Kelly)
Trini’s Wall
Posted by Britt on December 10th, 2009 filed in PoemsComment now »
She built this wall long ago against hateful invaders,
their names now scribble-scratched on worn warm wood.
Plywood grains swirl in flat echoes, sounding for signs
from invisible worlds on the other side.
She hears whispers, and the door begins to open.
(Photo by Gina Kelly)
Simon’s Doll
Posted by Britt on November 19th, 2009 filed in PoemsComment now »
Mother. From egg, I exit.
Like egg, smooth walls hold me,
in my warm water world.
Walls that grow closer every day
in comfortable darkness.
Songs touch me from beyond
in gentle, loving waves.
I turn and listen to your voice,
Mother, leading me to light.
(Photo by Gina Kelly)
Superior
Posted by Britt on November 6th, 2009 filed in Poems1 Comment »
When there are no more prayers left,
Look for a boat floating in the sea.
I will hear your heart and come to you.
The sky, the water, the stone is gray.
I land at the pier, you step on board
And place your last thoughts in me.
(Photo by Gina Kelly)
Photophobia
Posted by Britt on October 21st, 2009 filed in Poems1 Comment »
The pain is not from light
But what it illuminates -
The love of darkness
In your dim corners
That haven’t smelled day
Since you were a child.
Someone opens a window,
Disturbs your sleep, and
Like a thief, steals your fear.
This bright ray removes muck
From forgotten channels,
Erases cracks from mirrors,
And releases buried veins
Of temptation, gods, and sin.
Some burn and fall, others
Soar homewards into void
Away from the fear of light.
(Photo by Gina Kelly)
Longwillow
Posted by Britt on October 12th, 2009 filed in PoemsComment now »
She often dreams with her eyes open to the west
looking for writing in the sky when the sun sets
and catches the Pacific wind in her outstretched arms
to mold into familiar colors, shapes and tones,
gifts to crying lovers’ spirits left to us in symbols
she sends across our land to the hungriest of souls.
(Photo by Gina Kelly)
Trini
Posted by Britt on October 12th, 2009 filed in PoemsComment now »
Had Manet found you,
clothed in marble shadows
beneath the grove’s oak,
as I did that summer day,
he would have known each stroke
before it touched the canvas.
(Photo by Gina Kelly)
Marie
Posted by Britt on October 12th, 2009 filed in PoemsComment now »
You, suspended between peace and passion,
Tethered to hard world by soft hand,
Have always been a stranger to weight.
If I let go, would you sail to another world,
Or drift in and out with the tide?
(Photo by Gina Kelly)
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