I Say Dream Only

featured in the poetry forum May 29, 2018  :: 0 comments

It starts to cloud, heavy gray clouds
then begins to rain
Drops the length of drumsticks

The tin roof on a beach shack
is a tight percussive skin
that rises off-pitch
Dune grasses sway
to the drumming
flap to the beat
The waves applaud

We take refuge in the shack
The storm crashes against the walls

We sleep or should I say dream only
She, a starfish, I, a gray line
Starfish floats, gray line catches

Huddled together on a wooden cot
surrounded by sand, salt, storm
She, a starfish, I, a gray line
I lift her to taste the sea
a clam floats over my tongue
I lift her higher
tasting more of the sea

editors note: Open wide and say, "Ahhh." Save room for seconds. (We welcome Dah to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) - mh clay

Bottleneck

featured in the poetry forum February 16, 2018  :: 0 comments

Until it comes from you
there’s no light
only doubt
which befalls
a disquiet
of uncertainties

As the world dies
I believe the universe lies
even as astronomers
connect new planets
to dazzling stars
black holes intensify

I turn to an aching
unconsciousness
to a radiance emerging
out of reach
to life’s iron crust
grinding our breath

All things are invasions
of celestial planes
by lusting after
wobbling
guiding suns
Black holes breathe

Life is a bottleneck
we squeeze through
choreographed
by ego clinging to
whatever
Eternity means

editors note: Pick the lie you like best; make Eternity meaningful (never mean). - mh clay

Perception

featured in the poetry forum November 18, 2016  :: 0 comments

Perception is based on
light’s variations
or one’s point of focus

Something clear
is a glass wing
or a cracked pane

Somebody says
the burnt eyes of noon
are chilly

The first snowflakes
are deep sleep
or a masquerade

The faraway blue
is drifting liquid
or a baker’s glaze

At night
everything starlit
is contagiously dark

Perception is clever
in its ways of leading us
to what we want to believe

editors note: Yes, our poets are pundits. They make us like what we believe. - mh clay