And the truth about lies is you can't live without them.
Not even the white ones.
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Communication
is either
negotiation
or transformation.
In the beginning
was a word.
And the word made sense.
Things that have been said
cannot be unsaid
and meanings
cannot be unmeant.
Good. We can move on.
Understanding is
another name
for deconstruction.
Truth is a whole
universe full of
black holes and
emptinesses and
uncreated things.
March 30th 2007
Communication Gap
I thought I had nothing left,
nothing to communicate,
nothing really worth sharing.
The words keep on coming though
sounds without any meaning
and that leaves the two of us
here staring at each other,
barely a poem apart —
but what an immense chasm
that is turning out to be.
July 5th 2005
Originally published in The Apple Valley Review, Vol 3, No 2, September 2008
Reading Into Things
So often we had pointless sex
as if intercourse should have some point.
I've not really thought about it.
We did it for its own sake and
the fact that we did it together
was almost coincidental.
She opened herself up to me
but not in the way a poem might
and I took from her what I could.
Each of us came but to very
different conclusions.
July 5th 2003
The Poetry of Regrets
Poems turn up out of the blue these days
like family
and usually when things are going badly.
Once they were with us, day in and day out
we lived with them
but never really appreciated them.
I guess that's what growing up's all about,
finding ourselves
with too many regrets and fewer answers.
Only wish I'd said more when I had the
words to say it.
but you don't turn family away. Not ever.
May 25th 2001
Making Sense
What do you see in the ink-blot?
Just sadness.
But sadness has no shape.
Yes it does. It has that shape.
Can't you see the butterfly?
Perhaps, but it's a very sad butterfly;
I can tell these things.
May 31st 1998
The Art of Breathing
To find room for the new
you have to let go of
the old
so to learn how to write
I had to forget how
to breathe
and for a time I thought
I had to write to keep
breathing
which makes such perfect sense
but only if you're a
poet.
November 20th 1997
Originally published in Pulsar #49, March 2008
Mirror, Mirror
Before we start, gentle reader
tell me what you're looking for;
it helps if I know beforehand.
(Because poems are whores;
they become what you want,
but there's always a price).
Or we could just talk if you like.
What do you want to hear?
Surely not the truth?
Oh, I see: you like mirrors.
Well that's quite all right.
I have just the thing here.
All it takes is a little imagination.
August 19th 1996
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