059 - February 28 2024 - the package

a parcel came for me
unexpected on my doorstep
starliner tickets
one way
into the heart of our star

make me ashes and minerals again
and relieve me
from this always floundering
this always always deteriorating
bag
I call my home

shunt the wicked thoughts
and the careening desires
(I cringe to remember it all)
from my skull

return me to the heart of the reactor
and then
later later later

to the drifting cold gas
of the infinite

055 - February 24 2024 - The Way Backward

I do take seriously the notion that
the point of no return is always further
along the pathway than I probably thought,
but, that said, late turnings increase the labour
of reclaiming what’s lost, and thorned troubles branch
back where I trod, with my heart now made dour,
for when I strode down I was not an old man.

But I speak with conviction and with ardor
when I say I’ll come back to where I began
with my misfortunes earned transformed to favour;
even if it is my own coffin I drag
from the brambles into my purified grave.

038 - February 7 2024 - A Short Pledge

I take wending routes, through soft tropical seas
with the southern crane perched smartly on my left
and my little bark creaks, following the breeze
while sidereal time makes gentle my breath

whatever such troubles, left stacked on the dock
I fled from, they have drifted now from my sight
the clamour and bellows by calm waters stopped
and nothing but peace between I and the night

and well may I turn, when my wrappings come free
and my stitches are plucked, and my plans are set
and well may I strike with the best company
and well may I right things, done wrong,  but not yet!

034 - February 3 2024 - on winter

they told me the winter could instruct my mind
that it, relentless, cracks and peels our pretense
it is not without mercy, nor is it kind,
it simply is, in true sanctity and depth

its power is peace, it lulls the world to sleep
it blankets fallen leaves in its soft domain
and far below wracked barren branches it keeps
small burrows snugly, until spring comes again

but the call to pause, when one wanders the void
is a siren’s lullaby, make no mistake
this place may be tranquil, but it is not warm
and once you succumb to its call, you won’t wake

033 - February 2 2024 - dark dogs

I came out from my sickness with a new sense
purity of mind and resolve of the heart
that for time I’d wasted I’d make recompense
by promising all I had left to my art

whatever dalliances, tawdry, held me
let them now rot; I consign them to the scrap
I live for the pen, and language’s fancy:
O! the breath of the muse is all I can ask

I lost much to illness, and my time is short
dark dogs ring the low flame burning at my desk
from the shadows their eyes watch, lucid as quartz
for the moment I waiver, and dream of rest

032 - February 1 2024 - A Spacewalker's Lament

this little port here will not yield to my wish
complain though I might, with a crackling plea
and the countless stars, blazing behind my back,
still and gelid watch, silent mitts on the screw
as I burn my air, helpless, witless, miles aloft

can this be my truth? (I put it to the door)
this girl whom I loved with her vacuum cold heart,
could deign to spurn me, where each breath is precious
while inside she sighs, quivering gulps of air
and not one desire to share from her rich tanks