1.
moments
in slow motion
withdrawn
like light
life
& their
eventuality
i can see clear rain
thru this bitch
day
believe in
still,
a voidless piece
of
gathering
a not so trusted edge
collapsing
as humans collapse
within this “animal debris”
we are so endeared to
a false faith in staying
in belief itself
a false hand held.
2.
friendless & damp
the sky
as threatening as
incense
but not happening below this belowly
always wet somewhere
always silent somewhere
always understanding
always dead somewhere
in no particular place
always hungry somewhere
in some unknown place
inside us
somewhere.
3.
(culled from heaven
man – I – fold)
wearing something
to go
somewhere
in our oddly shaped
boxes
so many edges
roughnesses
&
smoothnesses
in there
out there
eyes all over
every where
complex unshaven
layers
tables separating “bulky sums”
it’s all there
somewhere
a given
horizons in there somewhere
days nights
scales to measure
our beings
full of….. the high point
of low life
is taking a piss some times.
4.
washing
one’s
hands
5.
&
to shit is a good
thing
tho we know
we’d rather not be
as close(d) minds
cannot relive
their
geographies.
6.
go in too from (to/from)
on wide street
is better than
being stranded on a
narrow street
she thinks
particularly in New York
tho in Paris
the narrower we
are the more we feel the flavor of.
7.
conserved
verse
seen/robbed
(births)
creeeeee creeeeee creeeeeee
(t)reason
passed away
passed on
unke(m)pt
8.
who needs a thing
after it is passed
on (night mare)
he said
are you a friend?
i said WATER is subjective
friendship is circular / is
0val it seems!! at times
9.
dry clean only ( on wood )
10.
molinalimolionanimoly
soprano sax is scene to be only
instrument
left blowing
on this planet (even lisped a phone)
11.
sunlight thru certain stained glass
cannot stain certain rooms w/light
if they are already filled w/bulb light
certain children remain small
even as they grow old(er)
– equal facts –
one must make one’s own way
in the world in the long run
as
someliness as wave & particle from up/stairs
12.
a hammer
a stein of ears
a painting of sight
a metal ball that stops
ala roulette wheel
halting Mem or I al
tri-b(r)ute ®
the brightness of that silver-colored
metal ball as it sneaks away numb(erless)
to grasp & breathe the gasping air
(flood)
13.
rail
more
me
i
ai
ail
ale
loam
lime
14.
attention
these notes
were meant
to be noted
abstracted like the very ground itself
a marker along the roadside
or
a graveyard
full of senseless
stones
15.
folded
16.
a plaster shadow cast inside the heart
17.
salvation is a b(r)ook of salvaged good(s)
(creak)
intimate reflections in the distance
boxed again in evening / tones
we turn the clock back
but there is nothing
no years then left us
no echoing story to retell
nothing
nothing that can stop time
18.
could not even lift the flowers from the vase
(dense jingling)
even dense seemed so airy
the fluff
the fringe
& then
where bulb light’s less visible
shadows are cast by the sun
colorless shadows of banisters
staining the wall
sunlit manuscripts of age old tales
illumined & fragmented
’til the clouds regain their
“ground”
19.
inward
i feel
even more /or
less secure
knowing that
you kissed me on the lips.
written @ st marks poetry project, nyc, 10/29/05
robert creeley tribute
[Editor’s note: In mid-2019, Steve sent several documents containing many poems for me to choose from. Among them was a tribute for creeley. Most of them remained unpublished at the time of his death in September 2019. This poem was previously published in different form. Read more of his work from Steve’s author page here at EM.]
