I’m often attracted to the psychology of landscapes, or climates – how mood and place speak similar languages. This month, I have found the syntax of physics keeps trying to tell me something about love…
05/01/14
your black hole pupils
are wormholed heart conduits
collapsing matters
…about family…
05/02/14
whistling whale songs
summon nebula-cradled,
star-birthed beginnings
…and about self-determination.
05/03/14
my firefly dance,
a random constellation
of quirky vigor:
static in the still,
milky, blurred evening’s buzzing,
awaiting thunder.
And all along, there was some thunder; after all, isn’t there always a storm brewing somewhere out there? Lets just say that a longer than expected recovery from outpatient therapy has been discouraging, and pain-killers have been sapping a lot of my energy.
05/05/14
let the narcotic
swallow you down whole, the fog,
in one soundless gulp.
But I can’t stay down for long…
05/06/14
soft, sweet sentiments
swiftly invade bitter fields –
stealthy we gentle
or, maybe I can???
05/07/14
frequent vacancies,
each safety violation;
freeways shutting down
Sigh. I’ll get back to you next week and let you know!