How to Remember Important Things
Save the whales. Save the dolphins.
Save the bored housewives.
Save my hands, so often cupped over the sorrow in
being alive. Save the beautiful
made-up cherries of delight
I feel everywhere in your presence.
Save the sprawling landscapes
of late night cafeterias of the mind.
Save the often forgotten radios of our flying dreams.
Save the hand-printed love
letters of early morning light. Save the inexhaustible
curiosity of a small interior poem of silence.
Save the naked air.
Save the Spanish tongue of Neruda.
Save the sparkle in
the brushstrokes of a Picasso.
Save storm and the rainbow.
Save the North Sea. Save shadows.
Save all hearts from
beginning to break again.
Save the ripped apart sky from
the rain of so many angry bombs leaking inside.
Save the secret handshake. Save the Pandas.
Save the sea turtles. Save the roses. Save the last dance.
Save the sailing boats and floating planes
of melting romance. Save whatever makes
no sense. Save this feeling. Save the butterflies
with passionate, provocative kisses.
Save the question of imagination. Save the end
of the poem until you really need it. Save the
world from itself. Save your wild goodbyes.
Save every word.
With Nothing Here But Me I Begin
to unwind looking for the answer.
I confess I wasn’t so discreet
as life demanded, laughing like a
nowhere poet. Nothing relieved the
god awful boredom. Many times I
confess I hadn’t really taken
the vitamins, crying like a court
jester thrown into a dungeon on
market day, and felt ashamed of all
human hypocrisy everywhere.
Many times over I confess I’m
paranoid; I can try to love the
police but they all act like Hitler
to me. Many times I confess there’s
a sadness inside. Often I say
to myself I guess I can describe
a circle as well as the next guy.
I put forth my arms, look, I confess
to embrace the whole world, too, but just
because you’re in it. Many times I
confess I’ve been places and seen things
that didn’t appeal to me, weird things
worried me, like proselytizing guys
looking for disciples and money.
Many times I confess my own quick
sarcastic stupidity lacks all
sense of tenderness. Many times I
confess I’m scared, a madly lost cat,
a paradox, I’m sorry, really.
But if I close my eyes the horses
are beautiful again; the haunted
hopelessness I can do without. I
must confess I only wish to be
real, authentic, surprising, human
and kind with you in both joy and pain.
The Moon Rose up on Its Tinfoil Bed
and floated along with
us like it was attached
with a string. I thought that
meant we had a boat in
case of emergencies
but she said it was sad
to see it following
in our wake like a cork.
I still think it looked every
bit the stylish silver-
capped swimmer doing
the backhanded tango.
There was no noticeable
splash, ever, but it
did come apart in several
whenever it hit the
tallest trees, only to
pull itself back into
an almost perfect circle,
albeit a mostly
wobbly one, instantly,
the branches. By midnight
we were the ones dangling
beneath magnetized toes
and being borne along
like a couple of hair
pins. I had to laugh. Your
scarf it was covered in dust.
We Wore Our Hair Long
You don’t have to push so
hard. We wore our hair long.
We wanted the animals to trust
us in the wild open spaces.
Everything will come. We wore our
hair long because we wanted to
be able to find our way
back in the moonlight. It’ll be
alright. We wore our hair long
because we walked among your
horses and they seemed to think
it was the right thing to
do. You can’t take these cosmic
things too lightly. We wore our
hair long because there was no
future left. And because the bullshit
was beginning to pile up
and over our heads like an
avalanche of grey clouds. They offered
us nothing in return for
our broken hearts. This is the
world, they said. We wore our
hair long in spite of robot
armies with falling bombs tattooed on
their metal encased brains. You don’t
have to push. We wore our
hair long because we were
in love. It’s as simple as
that. We were able to see
all creatures breathing in every
blade of grass. We Wore our
hair long to magnify their tears.
You don’t have to push us
so hard. We wanted the animals
to not be afraid to let
us reach them. We wore our hair
long to show the ancient
dragons that we still respected them.
Put your arms around me now.
We were in love. We
wore our hair long as long
as we were together. After that
the poems came like rain. After
that we hit the ground. Please
don’t let me hit the ground.
Our hair lit up the sky.