I Am Dreaming

I am dreaming of endings.
The endings are soft, rounded truths –
pearls revealed

inside of black, starry shells.
I awaken trembling,
for the night

mends the broken pathways
between heart and mind,
so corroded by words unspoken

and the light of day.

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Two Questions

#1:

A man
digs a vast, bottomless hole
in a land where,
since the beginning,
 the ground
shakes from time to time
 (the man knows this).
The man
stands gingerly
on the hole’s precipice.
The earth trembles
and the man disappears
into the hole.

 Whose fault is it?
The ground’s,
the hole’s,
or
the
man’s?

#2:

If another man
witnesses
the fall,
but decides
to dig
his own black hole anyway,
and the earth shakes,
or the pipe breaks,
or the seal leaks,
or the lock creaks,
or the bomb drops,
or the time stops,
then when can
we change
the
man?

Sea Change

There is something
bubbling, brewing,

calling blue beneath
the surface,

aching,
stirring.

You are listening
and  ignoring,

ocean’s eager
swells unnerving.

Riptides pulling,
unforgiving.

Paddle fast
against the surging,

or gaze hard at
what is

churning.
If only you could

quench the wondering,
satisfy the tugging song.

Surrender to depths’
endless calling,

you may find
silence

in the dawn.

The Weight of Iron

No way to unharsh the blow
that will fall
 

with the weight of a thousand tunnels
stone and hollow,

darkness swallowed
by the roaring engine,

black smoke trailing endless
into the storm of day.

All is seamless grey,
like a freight,

like a weight,
onward into the night,

while you shock and listen
to the echo of a wail

ripping through this bending
landscape, once untouched,

not so long ago.