In the winter of my day
I contemplate thee
My love
My lover
child golden yet unborn
known to me
as are you
so you are
I do not know what fire
hast kept thee
out among the trees
Out among the stars
But I know it burns
Deeply in thy chest
warm and loving
fiery and charmed
indeed you are so charmed
We work in the Dark; we give what we have. Our Doubt is our passion- our passion is our task, and the rest is the madness of art. -Henry James
Thursday, October 14, 2004
1985
Shadows so black
they looked like burn marks
in the dry brown grass.
The Texas sun bit viciously
into the earth.
The changes are coming.
Look well to the
grass & trees.
They sing of sorrow,
of infinite patience,
of desperation.
All this will change
soon....but soon enough?
Cry for the onea who
do not see.
Cry for the loss of
all we know
or knew.
Merciless ships
laden with unforgiving
sun and struggling
clouds. Few creatures
venture far in this
daylight. The night comes,
with breezes for respite,
and the day's heat
lies quiet, forgotten.
but not forgiven.
Life is leeched out
inch by careful inch.
Where are the rains,
Goddess,
to feed your starving
children?
they looked like burn marks
in the dry brown grass.
The Texas sun bit viciously
into the earth.
The changes are coming.
Look well to the
grass & trees.
They sing of sorrow,
of infinite patience,
of desperation.
All this will change
soon....but soon enough?
Cry for the onea who
do not see.
Cry for the loss of
all we know
or knew.
Merciless ships
laden with unforgiving
sun and struggling
clouds. Few creatures
venture far in this
daylight. The night comes,
with breezes for respite,
and the day's heat
lies quiet, forgotten.
but not forgiven.
Life is leeched out
inch by careful inch.
Where are the rains,
Goddess,
to feed your starving
children?
Sunday, October 10, 2004
Owa Tafoo Liam
paper squid in the road
triangled moon in the sky
lies&lies&lies
I can no longer
believe in myself
base self-deceiver
that I am.
I walk the halls
of this life
and peek through
closed doors and keyholes
hoping to find
someone to play with,
forgetting the lesson:
as we come into this world
so we leave it.
unfinished sonata
fades from the keyboard
a tune both pale and sweet
It was my soul once
when daylight did not make me cringe
midnight dreams of
warm strong hands
a scent other than
my own
are now so much grave dust
blown aloft by passing shades
Ah the life alone
it makes for passions
both deep and dank
drawing on the fear we
all share
and live in delusion
the better to ignore
that biting ceature
made of self-doubt
born when just a kid
borne for a lifetime
as a badge of protection
and a gnawing demon
of self inflicted hurt
Yes, I was to blame, me alone, in the end.
I believed another's ugly words,
let it settle in as truth,
it being in fact the farthest from
and it has cost me at every turn
ever since.
I sabotage before there is a chance,
for to let it happen
would risk that pain of
"this really isn't for me"
The words cut too deeply,
and yet back I go,
to do it just the same
one more time.
Those with their eyes open,
those who look at reflection
and can see enough to laugh,
a chant for the moment
of complete self-realization:
Owa Tafoo Liam.
triangled moon in the sky
lies&lies&lies
I can no longer
believe in myself
base self-deceiver
that I am.
I walk the halls
of this life
and peek through
closed doors and keyholes
hoping to find
someone to play with,
forgetting the lesson:
as we come into this world
so we leave it.
unfinished sonata
fades from the keyboard
a tune both pale and sweet
It was my soul once
when daylight did not make me cringe
midnight dreams of
warm strong hands
a scent other than
my own
are now so much grave dust
blown aloft by passing shades
Ah the life alone
it makes for passions
both deep and dank
drawing on the fear we
all share
and live in delusion
the better to ignore
that biting ceature
made of self-doubt
born when just a kid
borne for a lifetime
as a badge of protection
and a gnawing demon
of self inflicted hurt
Yes, I was to blame, me alone, in the end.
I believed another's ugly words,
let it settle in as truth,
it being in fact the farthest from
and it has cost me at every turn
ever since.
I sabotage before there is a chance,
for to let it happen
would risk that pain of
"this really isn't for me"
The words cut too deeply,
and yet back I go,
to do it just the same
one more time.
Those with their eyes open,
those who look at reflection
and can see enough to laugh,
a chant for the moment
of complete self-realization:
Owa Tafoo Liam.
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