Cocoon

for D

Verdant leaves stretch out before the pillar,
but agony of appetite remains
an exclusivity of repertoire
that swallows ceaselessly to stifle pain.
Things curl or cocoon themselves even on
spreading surrender in a milky purl
which encases head in own depression
and broods in chambers dangling from the world.

Behold! What was done for mention of summer
now ekes out air, exfoliates color:
a chrysalis whose clamorous chewing
rips from voracious toil sap-slung wings
waves a manifold swathe’s purest butter
to grease the depths of the heart from dolor.

Fables (A/V)

Fables in A/V format. Another work by my brother. The palette here always reminds me of Degas' La Coiffure, which serves as a hidden echo to the third stanza of this poem.

Fables

So now—tell me what you are
to lay long vowels like bricks
thatching hearthouses with straw
then huffing down what sticks

     I am a grim wolf’s brother


Well now—tell me where you are
that you groan green evening’s thickets
gleaning crumbs that glimmer in craw
though gingerbread protests

     In the saline freshet, north of despair


There now—tell me who you are
upright, unclimbable tower
twisting melodies into lengths of hair
that you never lower

     I am Shekkinah

Zion (A/V version)

Zion in A/V format. The trophies from a larger single canvas by my brother. The blurry disappointments of middle age after the vivid glittering of childhood triumphs.

Zion

Outside my boyhood temple stood a sign
I misread as “Save Palestinian
Jewelry.” Now whatever its design,
my own came out casting gold medallions,
poured out a perplexity of bright beads,
sun-dazzled bangles and metallic ores
so molten in the molds of my own needs
they could not keep the saving they stood for.

Later, when I was old enough to hold
that error and the terrible traction
of errors hammered into old errors
I hungered for old crucibles of gold
that smelted out pieces of pure Zion
not as bullets, but as decorative wear.

One Pass Round the Clock (Video)

Here's the multimedia clip to accompany One Pass Round the Clock. The dreamy image, again one of my brother's, was from a fanciful series of blue-filled non-representational paintings he released under a pseudonym. Consider this one a clock come undone in the wake of a thought....

One pass round the clock

I. Ascent
Time bears no features
outside the self.
It wears a face
in our hands and fingers
taking it’s twitches in a mind
winding itself
like a clumsy clock.

Thus, caught in a world
which bears one up,
like a ferris wheel, rocking,
each moment marks
a rough deliverance:
happenstance, terror.


II. Descent
Left none but memory,
he takes up his mystery
like a cloth.
Unwinding
curious concatenations of a self
to morning’s threads
whose rouge licks,
coloring his deeds.

And bearing down time’s footmen
for late review
he finds himself happy, a magpie or crow
delighting in golden cuff and buckle
whose gleams ripple the loss and lull
wallowing in the wake of his mind.

Woot! Gemkitty is live!

Gemkitty is live. We've got two different product lines that hopefully scratch the bling-hunting itch. There's a limited edition section for those looking for exclusive, ready-to-wear gemstone jewelry. And to awaken the designer inside of you, we have our "DYO" section where you can design your own necklace, which is then crafted to your specification and shipped right to your door.

A bit of a departure from the usual poetry, but every bit as much a labor of love.

"The Jaggers" (Video)

"The Jaggers" in still image/audio format. The image is taken from one of my brother's series of woodsy-still lives. Unfortunately, the computer does not do justice to the quality, vivacity, and nuances of the greens in this painting; he somehow seems to have packed the whole spectrum of light and dark within a single band of color.