Anima Cantus

This poem, my 13th hybridanelle, attempts to depict and convey one of the ways I look at ’being’, what a being is, and how it is connected with its self and other beings. The title is Latin for “mind song” or “psychic melody”.

Anima Cantus

This poem has been published in my book an inkling hope: select poems, available in Kindle and paperback formats. Out of consideration for those who have purchased a copy, I have removed it from this post and online viewing in general. However, the above player can still be used to listen to it.

Publication History:

Art Arena (web-based) — November 2005

Unfenced

A friend of mine died suddenly on the 12th. I talk a little about him and how we came to meet in “On a Life Left Unfinished”, another poem I wrote in his memory.

     Unfenced

     in memory of Del Warren Livingston (1944—2005)

          close your eyes my friend and listen
     hear the sound of beating hooves
your spirit-brothers come to take you home

          they have heard the call of your stallion heart
     wild neighs that pawed against your chest
and now they come to see you home

          yes they have heard you realms away
     known you as their own throughout the years
lifting their heads at the sound of your distant soul

          your stallion blood has pounded long
     confined within a human cage
at last you have broken free

          do you feel the wind flash across your mane
     can you sense the creased mountains in your nostrils
the power that ripples beneath your hide

          close your eyes and dream my friend
     no longer can the old pains trouble you
go now and join the waiting herd

          graze where waters wind through wooded vales
     gallop where the grasses stretch and gleam
nicker in morning mists among your kind

          fill your lungs with fenceless air and leap
     when you open your eyes and blink away the sleep
you will be home again at last… and free

Matrimony

For the unity of marriage I used Katrina as the metaphor for life’s struggles. And for the survivors of Hurricane Katrina I used matrimony as a metaphor for unity. This is my 12th hybridanelle poem.

Matrimony

This poem has been published in my book an inkling hope: select poems, available in Kindle and paperback formats. Out of consideration for those who have purchased a copy, I have removed it from this post and online viewing in general.

Halflight

The night; the wilderness; a stream. Here silence takes on new meaning, and it includes a movement of sound. Here stillness absorbs new significance, and it involves touch and motion.

Halflight

This poem has been published in my book an inkling hope: select poems, available in Kindle and paperback formats. Out of consideration for those who have purchased a copy, I have removed it from this post and online viewing in general.

Publication History:

The Alchemy Post (web-based) — November 2005

irruption

Dreams can irrupt into waking life. Sometimes waking life feels like a dream. Reality is subjective, and its significance even more so. An irruption is the polar opposite of an eruption. As selves, our egos are forever erupting into our environment, influencing everything from landscapes to the behaviors of others. But we are like bubbles drifting through a larger, heavier fluid. Once in awhile our bubble weakens and lets something in from that fluid unconscious that challenges our sense of reality—this is an irruption.

irruption

all in a moment
   reality peels back and reveals
       the unknown…

               snowflakes fall to the sky
           boulders drift through a canopy
       rustling leaves as puffy white clouds
   leave craters where they fall to earth

snap to
   eyes open
       reach for balance…

               walls breathe in darkness
           linens screech at silence
       ceramic tiles gnaw the legs
   of your trembling bed

grip the sandpaper blankets
   fingernails splintering
       shut tight your eyes…

               cold coils around your wrist
           fibers burrow into the skin
       as something parts the covers
   by your recoiling feet

spring from bed
   stumble to light
       shatter the darkness…

               nothing but familiarity
           the rumpled sheets
       an unvacuumed carpet
   a flickering heartbeat