Author: Summer

.

the pain is too great to endure
there is no believing
in a Compassionate God
we look to the stars
see every parent’s grief
one by one a never ending

form your family circle
shed the tears for one another
knowing/remembering
we carry on
for one another
who are still here

there is a reason
there is a season
hearts touched
will touch again
in the peaceful valley
someday
.

.

ain’t packing my bags
i’m ready to go
more naked than
the quarter moon
no cover will up
the status quo

over the hill and far away
no loon will call me crazy
only people do
but i am not their matter

what matters is
i love
you love
he loves
she loves
we love
they love

and we are of this matter
tattered shredded scared
by far
the most
emotional creature
the strongest willed
the most
fragile hearts

somewhere between
Florence Nightingale and Captain Spock
emotion weds logic

when day dreams die
be consoled in
moon dreams

~

set the self free to be
mad at self
raise your right eyebrow
feel it say “you’re ok,
laugh at yourself”

we are our very own
judge and jury
intuitively knowing
peace comes with justice

if our ego does not atone
our super ego will
id
activate

~

.

ahh, coffee time
candle lit, tobacco lit, light lit
(kinda red and covered with Springgreen flowers)

tonight, predawn i hear/see
God’s Learning Channel admit
their God knew what they were doing
when they sacrificed the lamb
the Egyptians would know they were killing their God Aries
and that all of the plagues were aimed at their other Gods
and they, the Egyptians, would set them free…

but here we sit dear Aries
tiny mythos in the sky
reminders one might say
Gods are myth —
they are not killed by their symbols
wantonly destroyed
get over it
Spring will arrive
in 24 days
here or not here
Shooting Stars
here then gone
where?

Equinox Eve is coming soon
now my dear ol’ man
tell me what your love will bring
whisper if you can
.

from the chapbook “Making the Beds for the Dead”

Front Page

It’s the photograph that does it.
A man howling for his child.
You can’t forget it
despite a let up in the rain,
sunlight on a river,
a flight of geese over an estuary.
It’s a rucksack of sorrow
on your shoulder, on your mind.

Try leaving it on the platform
to be defused like a suspect package.
Try leaving it on the train,
personal belongings
they remind you to take.
Try to lose, bin, burn it,
indestructible as polythene
of flowers in a filthy stairwell.

Maybe just this once
we should forego the minute’s silence.
Maybe this time, in supermarket,
street and school and public square,
studio, station, stadium,
standing together, eyes closed,
we should throw back our heads
for a one minute howl.

Carcanet Press

i lie myself prostrate before you
face up, sincere,
whoever you are that are
that view yourself as the
superior race

for i am
of the melting pot
the lowest among you
we
of many races
know good people do bad things
we save our scorn for the bad things
we still love the people for
we are all one
when you join us
“hate” will be eradicated
dialogue will be pleasant
and so, what if, as if,
we never find perfect
we will have created
a more perfect union.

~

what is this/that face reflected?
right, so differently marked
than the left
turn to the right
see the crying left eye
tears withheld
streaks run
from cheek to chin
turn left now
there’s still a question and love
eye that winks itself
a slight tip of the eyebrow
below a cheek a mosaic
of words unspoken

look away look away
it’s Sunday morning
somewhere may there be peace
he said, “If you have something to say
you can say it now instead of later.”

well later is now and i can understand
deeper than i knew you suffered
for your sanity

they tell me you lookin’ good mi amigo,
strong buffalo heart man
thank you for the bird flutter
i held
o so short of life time
o so long of sand time

~

~

love is in the air
might be found most anywhere
catch mi if you can

~