Lines of Horizon

Wreaking havoc on our gravity
(Fire endures eternity
Lunging ravenous for this,
Only to snap back and always miss.)

Shoes might as well be made of cement;
Our soles kick against the firmament,
Desperately clinging like spider's feet
To patio, grass, even garden seat.
A jump is a failure before
It even begins to hope to soar.

The heart mocks the eyes
When they see the wrong size.
The blue is so close to our fingers
But reach subsides although longing lingers.

Fingertips bleeding through penny-red hair.
The pain is hard, but barely there:
This pain we feel like a surgical knife.
"If only I could, for once in my life,
Cold turkey leave this dragging earth.
Like a more languid second birth.
Wash me sudden in icy cloud bath.
Show me the widest, freest blue path."

Looking at imagined lines between sky
And the world where all we can do is try.

Mastery

Oh, if I could just reach out

And hold back that lightning

Before it disappears!

If I were king.

If I had the skill.

I'd cradle its prehensile flicker

And marvel as it tickled

All my fingers.

If I had the skill

To serve my will.

Could I dance the same arcane steps

The light dances in its power

Across the storms?

If I knew how

I wouldn't be here now.

The terpsichorean arts,

I fear, failed me entirely.

Black days lengthen,

And moonless nights

Grow in proportion.

Mastery of all I see;

Master of masks am I,

On those moonless nights.

Truth and death follow after

As I walk backwards.

Before Breakfast

I walked on the moon this morning.
It was blue and cool,
Probably from the tides.
All they gave me was a warning
And the name fool;
And then I found my way outside.

I flew over Jupiter this morning.
If the sky is the limit
Then I'm breaking down the rules.
I light my path by sojourning.
Opposition can't dim it:
Light glows and flows and pools.

I found my home this morning.
It is cool and dark like hands
Holding me back lest I fall.
The hands of seashells adorning
The beaches and white-hot sands,
Where dances a child's doll.