Luna Moth Fever

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Last poem to the present and pertinent heart … for with only a week to live …  I’ve luna moth fever with you on my mind…

the plum bracket of my silvery span wrapped around seven degrees above wondering …. that which I am too humble to inquire …

Do I keep you up at night as you do this frail flight? … Can the fruit of my sweet gum branch perfuming your daydreams so … that when night falls with an elixir the moon dew dropped as your remedy …

You might hear through magic means my call … were your words ever spoken with my pale wings upon your tongue ?

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved Aug. 7, 2015
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Smoke Signals

What is that? It started in your head, but God meant it for your mouth …

How do you keep the ringlets of the pebbles tossed in calm lakes from swallowing up the reflection of those you love the most … just before you give them flight … the second upon which you release their memory stones from your palm? …

The film of your redemption was as thick as unkempt kisses … rude and rare meat mangled … cupping my palm gravel of you like a pale rose born from the oil of our bodies … pressed panting passions, and the hope which water slips finger fragrant through … sinking shadowed bubble ripplets rising to quench … to beg you …

Light a fire on your blackened banks and send me smoke signals … send me the sentiment God wanted your voice to call out in the moonlight across this unstill body of mirror and madness between us … I am waiting on the far shore … my hands empty of stone, thorn,  or misconception …

Only flowers and tenderness remain.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved June 25, 2015

Holy Vapors

4102464783_9d1fc299a0_oMary in a Roman Catholic Church in Chicago

I had forgotten what it feels like to breathe … taking in lungfuls I could claim as my own … for the moments we had held them … the utter thoughtless exchange, otherwise now a dwelling stay … I’ve been giving it away so long … to anyone who will take it … or was it to anyone who would let me have a dram … does it matter what caused the stain when a cancer is the day’s remains ? … he said he saw all my pain in the betrayal of my soul’s window panes … suffocated lambs behind them lain in poultry rows for counting games … shims and shacks, shake and shame … the balance of the blade became soft once I realized … air left volume to perception’s choice … to the dreaming city sinking sea bound at the break of a new eon … terrible in the white blaze it wrought before us …   we held cirrus clouds in our cheeks just then, inverted O~ring memories … praying to undertake the glorified transfiguration and not become their Holy wafer … but the vapor, each breathe seeks to pass across in death.

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved June 11, 2015

Death Defier

Is it flight you seek in death to soar by wings of feather, scale, or silk … farewell mouth harping kisses and cradled lip entangle tear your mortal stitch … bounds embracing oft the phantasmic Dawn … a prismatic drunkard’s path the fool’s fright climbs … to perch hawk, the sacrament of Horus’ sunset inclines … bare beings crouched fetterless, blind veined, seep fillied, sap sad leeching wine … parsing fruit with nostrils full … be it poppy paste or free based retro reprimand …

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

The mosaic ginger …

The mosaic ginger of the tree lined summer streets which hold in their leafy memories words you spoke walking home on rainless nights … fill my anticipated inhales with the now autumn scuffles and damp near Decembers … your tea cup companion not far behind, sweetening the rippled edges … the barest of branches now play a whistling tune to the snow’s vein … echoing poetic your soul’s limber catch … and I welcome a deeply moist evening’s vapor … under starry skies … only slightly ajar from a common alignment … smiling, in awe of your loving me still …

© 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved  11/23/2016