Category Archives: Requieted

poems of love, confusion, yearning, hope and coming together

A Cartographer, I Considered

A cartographer, I considered:

Spectacled, heavy on a rosy face, hidden among stacks, drawing inventions of maps – delineating frontier is between playful apparatchik and fields where the healthy and husky scrambled games I couldn’t be bothered to learn the constructed rules of play.

Name in regions of gravel and grass in derivations of Iowa towns and possibly Balkan enclaves. Tracing roads across trucking routes and Roman ruins built to the width of chariot wheels-cemented as standards for mine entrance bringing a horse to Shores, away from CPS relations to new lives, absent from home still never know I can-beyond memories, Serio-graphed into filtered ideals.

Yet an unsteady hand and overall disconnect, or even indifference, which led to a place to “settle”-build a house dead June from cures logs, and seasoned by time, after hewn, nailed and assembled by saw blade and heavy sludge, forge by a possible cousin could always remain a stranger.

The blade remains anonymous as an un-muttered pithy quote en route to cliché.

Neither did exploding suns, brilliant and fleeting, assembled in patterns, ~ shared by the patient and measured in Newtonian units – still could not muster a journey – hence gazed, but ignored as impractical, nigh impossible.

Translucent ayers, super-imposed and stacked, detailing azimuths, trajectories and elevations – separating fertile valleys (thought subject to floods) from talus slopes too steep but for mountain rams on the shady flank of Timpanogos.

Dotted dashed and surveyed, specific dots explained in legend denoting assigned capitals, provincial outposts and occasionally hamlets determined by polled populations, overseen with constructed superintendents, supported by varying address of retainers.

Intrigued by absence of obvious order though not my task to chart.

Instead, as per instinct, selected committed to memory, devoid of context, thin slices of knowledge swirling in a petri vacuum – accurate as such but irrelevant

So i journeyed to wonder about likely motivations which took Normans, Pharaohs and troubadours beyond the point of unknown return. Capes left in wakes with dates and hard-track to fortify a quest alleged to diagram flora. Among them, I reference guide notes from decades past – a vague as possible to acquire allowing white-space and risk. Packed in burlap next to a survivor’s stove and pouch of seeds and spices and an important black pencil. Only planned to go one way, impartial to return rather to chronicle the unfamiliar.

The familiar left far behind as physics might allow – exchanged possible comfort in normalcy for uncertainty contentment in ambiguity. Meandering concentric routes, devoid of patterns or ready purpose.

Answers are easier in cliché, ergo:

“I’ll know when i get there” –
Town to creek to roadside conundrum – I swirled each in mouth , pretending my palette featured a vocabulary to explain to unseeing why I hadn’t settled for seemingly ideal locales, situations and specific circumstance to flourish.

Eventually, after farm toil, beach frolic, rough nights in dangerous morass, leaping turrets of ruins and painful heaving, missed junctions and forgotten aims, at a campfire in a lake-forest with a khaki-scout familiarity, I stumbled through an unfavorable gale, onto the intended coast

I mocked myself for mis-named non-discoveries, i assumed as fragrant promised lands of plenty allowed to the intrepid erstwhile accidental navigators.

Teased over misread hieroglyphics and misappropriated meaning to stone wheels quarried a far, hauled by double-hulled craft powered by taro and current and fickle breeze.

I could no longer mock with unearned disdain, the vaunted and faulted explorers, stolen secrets leading to some anomaly errantly pro-claimed as new or proper or divine.

Earnestly deterred, i occurred to was to map a universe of flesh and thought. Breath and sounds assembled into meaning.

The crease on cheek, the measure of brow, the angle of toes, magnitude of halo surrounding chameleon eyes and the mysterious enthusiasm of all which exists between.

Thwarted, not ny scenery but by shaking confessions, fumbled after a stealth crossing at an indifferent frontier town. I’d escaped to my holy land I presumed for an instant before minor catastrophe.

Stalled at an unwelcoming inn where i laid myself bruised and bare to a lover temporarily transformed to a stranger after i let the truth languish, vanquished by the uncertainty of resolved and fear or wounding the occasionally innocent.

She walked out vested, blithely, pithy saying “I know” unwittingly perhaps offering just enough loft to push a tattered sail across a colour-coded sea mis-named as somewhere calm.

The explorer hides. Alone, entirely lost and surrendered to fates incomprehensible to the battered. Uncontrollable b y the hostage. Yet clinging to an adrenaline determination to manufacture strength to another foray.

Monk-like, minus faith, discipline, dogma or skill at ringing bells, relying on rice gruel and fragrant hope, the cartographer gathered charcoal, fired for unsteady hands, and a redrew boundaries to conceive an entirely new Pangea with concessions to speculate, plunder and chart assigned exclusively to only two.

Change the World with Walking Sticks

Of course i wanna change the world, not just ‘my’ world but ‘the’ world. Not force *anyone* to do *anything* but maybe somehow effectuate positive change on a global scale. Not by guns, torture, fascism or force but by walking sticks, paintbrushes, backpacks. Not 2 cars in every driveway but 2 warm lovers in every bed. Model behaviour of what i want to be and see in the surroundings lands.

All naïveté aside… While i do long for squadrons of mercenaries clad in corduroy-patchwork pants armed, with Thoreau and flowers – sleeping bags & kind words, i do realize, “Oh shit! Sounds like M0rm0n missionaries with different books.”  

If i miss you though, do not take any reason for concern from my thoughts. You are scintillating and mighty and I do not question *anything* that you do – i express my sentiments to quell your fears of loneliness and/or longing and confusion during your search for well… what you seek: love, beauty, nobility and thrill.

Say Your Name Softly

I say your name softly
hear the gracious sound
drift with my breath

I watch the sounds float
above me, towards mountains
over lakes, down rivers, across oceans
to find you when i am far

I voice the sound which
describe you, when i am weary
or afraid in need of a mantra
to strengthen me, to steele me from fear
a protective spell unburned, unheard
too sacred for others

How would another understand
an explanation, halfhearted –
how do i describe you? describe us?
to someone, anyone – in a brief phrase, a stanza, an essay
a poem

How many words required to elucidate
these two searing syllables i say
so i don’t say
but i might say,
my grace, my prayer, my hymn, my exultations
my fantasy in times of pleasure
my relief in moments of panic
my security when confused
my homing beacon, signal-fire
my rescue, my escape

Shall i say to them
your name loud enough to hear?

So they will assume who you are with an easy
definition, a convenient descriptor?

No i shall and will keep you mine. like Nefertiti’s treasure
known only to the wisest, behind the wall
in Tutankhamen’s chamber

Like shards of pottery
missing from an ancient grecian antalect or decree
the space between Mile’s notes
the breath between Baker’s croon
the noise behind a sonic boom

Be the she of my story
the only part of me
i protect without mercy
without thought
you are my essential
no compromise will i offer

You are my magician
i willingly climb into the box
to be sawed in two
there and then
i will say your name aloud
fall in with the rhythm
with each saw stroke
confidence from the obscurity
foisted by your powerful hand

I am not ashamed
but also i am not foolish
to trust my treasure
to errant mortals
to those who quickly determine
how to place you by my side

You are not for them
you are for me and for you
and for we
to savour us

Night Lake Diving

freshly skinny white
leaping from the storm
the 2AM moonlight
fractures with the impact

the rocks below
clarified by the
glacial melt
jagged but deep enough
for divers and explorers
escaping ennui and malaise

on the shore bobbing over rocks
shook freed from constraints
the absence reveals
no barriers for the lubricious and clumsy

emerging from the cold
to stumble on the wretched shore
where bullets won’t start a fire
only tinder and a spark
is all i can stammer

start of something

exquisite with the dignity of 

elegance and restraint

teasing out the extravagance

of innocence and youth

leaning forward now

you lean forward

thick blades arch and thrust

you collared to the clouds

dappling your supple shadows

graceful valleys

no secrets

only tales to distract


my constant gaze

and eager intentions

All the secrets just vanished

one day
all the secrets just vanished
loosed from your bounds
of splendor and
wielded mercifully from afar

all the secrets vanished
and the emptiness made it clear
your lilly waft-like flowers
in crave like a buccaneer
away from the sea

are a dangerous
rife with rouge waves
and misery/mystery

beguiled by my ignorance
charmed by our incidents
mournful of your restlessness

That first flicker of luminecense

That first flicker
of luminecense
spark from soggy matches
pouting lips
watched you wait
like a best friend
of a third grade memory

lakefront fireflies
too quick for jars
rocky beach
and proverbial stars

you called me out
to a distant place
i couldn’t recognize
as my own backyard

filled with malcontent
and telepathy

we’ve no secrets
said through forked tongue
try to believe
it’ll make strife easier
when we’ve moved on
from young

Luminescence (remix)

the first flicker
of luminescence
soggy matches
and pouting lips

watched you wait
like my best friend
from third grade classroom
swingset memory

lakefront fireflies
proving too quick for jars
rocky beach and the
proverbial stars

you called me out
to a distant place
i couldn’t even recognize
that it’s my backyard

Secrets Intact

We’ll die apart
with secrets intact
you winking to the end
me twitching my nose

an arboretum afternoon
english bay interludes
second beach under feet

driftwood delivering anecdotes
caught your hazel eyes last night
moonlight reflected from two-thirds
a world away

you told me about the hidden cafe
burning spoon and sugared rim
we both hold pencils and
somehow remember to breathe

our lives are fiction of
what we dreamed might be
but you must remember these moments
are sequestered
not imagined