rain in Baghdad

Crowds gather
as drops fall
timid, through the net.

Last night, there was a storm -
twelve mintes
of vengeful winds and
     ghostly dust
whipping through the dark -
Glorious.

Crowds disperse
to cower
one by one,
hidden in their eyes.

They quiet now, waiting
in the daylight
as the drops fall
timid.

story of pearls

['It is what it is'
is all that I say;
the path I sought
has washed away.]

Pearls washed to dirt -
irritants stripped of beauty -
the allure exposed,
their raw rank core
illicit
as moonshine:
sweet on the tongue,
but heavy in the telling,
intoxicating
morbidity.

impressions

Their impressions left
spoke of narcissism;
their evidence told me
their confusion;
I knew their habits
without a word.

Now,

let me forget.

three little words

three little words... Overwhelming, isn't it? Strange, I think, how three little words can uproot your entire world and strike you squarely in the gut. Sometimes I think empires are toppled on three little words. They are so simple, and so brutal in their lack of frills: "I love you," "I have AIDS," I am scared," "I hate you," and "you are worthless" are some of the most powerful statements in our lives. Their power lies in their simplicity, their complete lack of nuance or deceit. These are phrases that must be taken at face value when spoken with sincerity. What do you say to these? How can you rebuttal undisguised hate? How do you respond to AIDS? How do you build your worth without sounding foolishly defensive? You don't. You simply walk away, knowing that person will never care.

These words, so simple, so innocent alone, are shattering together. Even the apparently innocuous "I love you" has the ability to shake my very core as a thought, unverbalized, when it comes unbidden, interrupting thoughts of someone so far from my hand, and so close to my heart. Is it strange, that I find the power of these words so deceptively clear? Do I even make sense to anyone not privy to my inner thoughts?


(Sept 2007)

unease

this feeling of unease haunts me -
like a child's toy abandoned in a craftsman's shop,
i do not belong here.

Restraints of station chafe me,
cause my heathen heart anxiety;
demons gather in the cobwebs of my recessed mind,
misuse makes hallucinations dance solid and sordid in my crazed vision,
and - paralyzed - i cannot see -

cannot decide -
cannot hope -
cannot create -
cannot be.

another day

the sun burns through my nights,
calls them home too quick;
I wake to the moon
and the rising stars -
another dark day
to work through.

melancholy thought

A melancholy thought, I know, but I cannot let it go...

How does a person recover from total loss? When a man realizes that everything he has fought for, everything he has sacrificed, and everything he has thought was right, is the very thing that has shamed and endangered him, his family, even his children - what else is there for him? I've seen too many grown men cry into sleeves of ill-fitted shirts, too many men choke on their children's names. Are they wishing for death in that moment? Will they ever rebuild their honor? Will they stop their children from making the same mistakes, in a world woven with violence? These are the things I wonder about, as another tear wells in the eye of another father, or brother, or son. How, I want to know, do they reclaim themselves from this horror they have become? Will they ever find redemption in their own eyes?


(2008)

The Machinations of Night

the pure silence blankets me,
a thick fur to keep me insulated,
to hold me in my thoughts;

somewhere in the silence,
i feel you far away -
dreaming in my solitude,
i need your solid touch;

what purpose fills this space?
what need does distance cure?
why, when beauty is before us,
do we keep her in the dark?

will my faith withstand the quiet? or
will be betrayed
by the sanctity of night?

blind souls

this is erosion,
- degradation of the mind -
insidious, rooting veins
corrupting emotions
and wearing away even the
most stoic temper.

Can there be a day of peace?
can there be a pause
in the fade?
Just once, can we step
Forward
instead of back?

this is cancerous;
this infiltration
of ignorance.

I've never seen so many blind souls.

perhaps

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...

When did the world become obscure?
When did the people become human?
Isn't this the same world I saw through clear eyes?
Aren't these the heroes I thought would never fall?

Too much confusion, obligation, corruption -
Too much imbued obfuscation -
My world doesn't match the one I begged -
Family is a word without borders - nebulous.

I can't - I think - I won't - I hate -

But mostly,

I wait.

And I love you.

the three

A few moments each, each a trail of thought that led nowhere, but occupied my time while I waited to hand out appeasement - toys and hygiene products to women and children whose husbands, fathers, and sons are imprisoned, terrorists maybe:


III: Culture, Retrospect, Circumspect

That sheer of newness,
that grimy coat that blinds,
it covers all the horror
with papery faith in kin -

We were the same, once,
you and I,
til seasons drew away
and love lost all her battles,
and memory left her side.


II: Sounds

Crunching gravel -
river-washed rocks
poured, heaped into desert -
Riled, refuse to crush
or fill the sand,
Waving and slipping
under booted weight -

Defiant, to the end.


I: Silver

Silver threads and Silver laughs
and Silver is my day;
Silver moon a shining star -
Stardust caught in a cloud,
Someday soon the world will sigh,
and Cease her layered wanderings;
Someday when the when does come,
This woman's wondering will still - silent.






(Family Day, early 2008)

Luna, carry me home

And so she hides behind the Sea,
     leaving the night to be lit by the stars,
and leaving my thoughts to rest alone.
     Her light fades and spreads, across the clouded waters,

As city lights appear - unexpected - in the west;
There, her last golden moment ends, Her
     journey complete.
Her luminescence lingers - just a moment longer -
     til in a breath -

All is dark
but for the city lights
reflecting the stars.





(R&R, 2008)

beauty

Their faded beauties withering,
war-torn monuments crumbling in their hearts, and

and

and they don't know.

They don't know they could be home.
They could be loved.
They could be wanted.

If only they would choose.

If only they knew -
If only they loved -
If only they wanted -

As I want you
As I love you
As I know my home

Is here

Is where my heart and my loves

Collide
Combust
Coerce

But - no - I'm faded, like moonlit beauty
     withering in the burning sunlight,

Crumbling in their memories...

Constellations

like scattered souls
blinking in the night,
as frozen as deer
(in headlights).

Who can see
what we've become?
Who can say
what we've measured?
Can we know
the distance of our moral
(disassociation)?

Can the shaken stars
see our patterns,
see our horrors,
make animals of
(us)?

When it all comes falling -
crumbling - slamming - down,
Who will watch us fall?
Will they see us sink
and make a wish?
Or will they see
(a waste)?

remembrance

I touch your picture
     And fingers remember the rough stubble of your face.

I close my eyes
     And I breathe deeply, catching your scent on the breeze.

I lick my lips
     And taste you again, salty and sweet on my tongue.

I wander into thought
   And you are here with me, holding me tight against your chest.

And for a moment,

I am happy.

dream

"To sleep, perchance to dream:
ay, there's the rub"
-Shakespeare

What shall I dream of today,
     as I snooze away the blazing sun?
Shall I dream of sweetthings and innocence,
     or martyrs and blood?

How long has it been, how many have died?
Death in all the wrong places,
    but who is the judge and where is the jury?
Out to lunch again, lost in a maze of consciousness
     - they'll not be returning.

My child, don't enter my dreams!
     Stay safe away, and safely loved.
My fears may kill you in the haunting;
     my love may draw you too close in the fire.
Your needs are mine, but I cannot see you here:
Today my dreams run red and metal -
Copper lingers in my memory's tongue.

the raven in Baghdad

I watched a raven today, while I was waiting at the bus stop after chow. He was circling above me, with dozens of others - a storytelling, I think it's called, as opposed to a flock. Their pattern was like an infinity symbol, only with three loops instead of two. I watched his grace for several minutes, while somebody talked to me about something. I'm not being vague on purpose. I really wasn't paying attention to whoever it was. The raven was much more interesting. His calm is what fascinated me, I think. He had no hurry, no impatience, no need, even, for patience, because time stood still for his flight. He had no stress, no concern. He had his Will, nothing else, but he did not lack. I closed my thoughts to all else, letting the sounds and sights surrounding me fade away. For a moment, I felt blessed emptiness.

The bus came, and we all shuffled on, to head back to work. We packed in like sardines, but my mind was alone in its thoughts, and I felt peace in the midst of this war.

(2007)