diaric, poetry

‘23. your ship is sunk, my friend

when i remember my own tipping point.
when you chalk yours up to
a generation’s desolation and clawing for
something resembling
control. weight. A carrying. 

You are underneath, darling, now what
can i do to help? Have a cookie.
Have two.
Get mad. Madder even. Loose the still. 
I became a derelict
—that’s fine, i accept—
by not keeping their ship
afloat. I surrender, you’re asunder.
Oh I must be so powerful.

Even now, I swim the same
sea—yet vast, yet oracle;
skim the surf
while at bottom,
the sands, the deep, and theirs eat
the planks, the convoluted halls,
the mezzanine. A clinic
of leisurely reign.

In so deep you have to remind yourself the water is moving.



Photo by coco tafoya on Unsplash
Standard
diaric, poetry

Wars, Dynasty, Rules, Gifts

Saw this poem coming from a
mile away.
Had me in its sights.

That guitar—neck snapped right
at the base.
Heavy gauge strings now
heavy gauge coils.

I broke it. I snapped. 

Here you go, have it
back.

Oh, this feels good—a sink
into the warm bath.

You did bargain for this
whether you
know it or not.

An elegy; I best be on
my way.

broke meter
Maestro of form so above
it all, neglected yours.
Pithy thing. 

Don’t take that tone with me.
Watch what I
do with it. 

When it’s time for
The Grandest Scale.

You woke me up, dammit.

The runway. I’m on it
like a bonnet. 
You betcha. 
Okie doke.
Here lies.



Photo by Camille Brodard on Unsplash
Standard
diaric, poetry

Nothins gonna touch us

when the belated gift is now arriving,
when you gotta float all calm-like in the highest altitude,
when even the dog bosses you around,
(yep, still float)
when authority falls down
(yep, still float)
and you look directly at the camera.
(yep, still float)
 
when you put on your shades and ask who cares? the sun’s going
to explode anyway



Photo by Uninteneded Concept on Unsplash
Standard
diaric, poetry

Correction:


When they must be doing something wrong
(a whole lotta cheating going on);
when your butt’s sore (but improving)
and the clog is deep in the line (but courage
and determination must persist);
when the Chief Justice is you, presiding
over consecutive flurries


When this time of year: makes me think of rainbows
because my twin is one; a horned mermaid
underneath and a horned rising to your face.
She’s the start of the wheel.


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diaric, poetry

I’ve Got My Eyes on You


When great conjunct great;
When you meet me at the equinox, I’ll telephone but it won’t matter.
When I can stay as long as you want, but 6 o’clock will do.
When it’s just coffee, not a surrender.
When I spent a love afternoon with a darling friend, in between the stoplights,
and great conjunct great.


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