by DAH
1.
… from now on, a reshuffling of diction,
word-acrobatics, perspectives gleaming with
new realities: somebody built an orange tree
against the other things around it, to feast
on boiled eggs in the cold hand of a plate,
the convulsions of the world can only go
so far: it’s a matter of course …
… regression is a retelling of history, mind-forms
that are slipping: shapes of corruption.
2.
… near the end of his journey the man’s voice
is as dull as ashes, a cracked seed ready to burst,
declining through the dark, a short distance to
life’s wintry end: traveling alone to the bottom,
the sound of his dusty age draws-in the earth that
lies at the edge of fading bones: today, the prism,
tomorrow the ledge: think lightning fast …
… his affliction is not pain but craving: the cold
at his feet, like frail children.
3.
… even in the icy spring of March, your eyes
were the rays melting lingering snow: we lay
buried in the warm blood of naked bodies, like
two refugees in a new land, and the wind that
did not reach us, and the ice that could not
find us: outside, the silent streets could hear
thunder beneath our blanket …
… ask me where she is, the one who ignored
my heart, and who was gone by summer.
DAH’s ninth poetry collection is SPHERICAL (Argotist Press, 2019) and his poems have been published by editors from the US, UK, Ireland, Italy, Germany, Canada, Spain, Poland, Philippines, Singapore, Australia, Africa, and India. He is a Pushcart nominee, Best Of The Net nominee, and the lead editor for the poetry critique group, The Lounge. DAH lives in California where he teaches yoga to children in public and private schools while working on the manuscript for his tenth poetry collection. His eighth book is Full Life In The Day Of A Poet, selected poems (Cyberwit Publishing, 2019).
Visit: www.dahlusion.wordpress.com Follow: @dahlusion