Wednesday, April 9, 2008

conversations of four doves


FIRST DOVE

"it is a tree that floats the harbour
it brings them back and forth
sometimes there are mussels and barnacles
good to eat perched against the oily sides
it gathers weeds and insects for us"

SECOND DOVE

"a coffin a tomb it carries death
any fruits that come of it are bitter
any one that follows it will go down
to the place more terrible than hunger"

THIRD DOVE

"it is a vessel from the god of love
light and full of hope it is sleek as wind
and fast as sound and it holds a story
from a thousand singing angels"

FOURTH DOVE

"it is only a dream and empty and still
for if it were not there would be children
and women singing old songs
men with oars and strong arms
paddling to find the other side"

DREAM

a turtle man dreaming a birthing dove
the dove long and gentle sighing into the waves
he sits frozen on the beach while she reaches
her mossy spiney umbilical chord
down to the earth mottled with pink
_______________________
or was the sweet tendrils of the sea
reaching up to her, swooning her down
into the underworld of spongey things?
there underneath things lurked
smiling teeth of sharks
bitter wings of venomous jelly hovering in the never world

________________________

the man opens a toothless grin
and stories fall out priceless and long
he tries to catch the words in one hand
and swipes for one as it slithers away
but it is only an old turtle burying her eggs
waiting for her young to rise and claim their
place in this world that is half sky

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

COLORS OF MATUG


sun mauve magenta spiral
with a cool fondue whip of mandarin
rising on that blue splashed with rose
beast that swallows the ones wanting to arrive
_____________
there's passion building in the clouds
a graying dusty whisper
a question mark almost a face
can be seen looking down
on one small vessal spilt like milk
on a rich violet tapioca beach
______________
its contents gone only the gaping maw
of its deck sneering down to the still earth
it could be a mouth or a sad grin
as if something was swallowed up whole
the dove waits, waits waits
and the dove
_____________
oh the dove the dove the dove the dove
it is singing a lullaby of white with a speck of blue
it is looking at the emptiness and the silence
and the cold tapioca sand
____________________
if you listen now you can hear the song
of a million travellers gone home
if you see the silence
you can feel the echo of the tide
going out

Monday, April 7, 2008
















it was an exodus

as if the final dry stick child

was at last free



the grandfather said

"the people returned

they boarded boats

and they sailed the arms of the ancestors

they had a long journey and had to cross valleys of belly buttons

and ears and even down the long crevice of a bony nose

but finally they arrived

to the heart they were seeking."




the stick child followed the wet trail

down the elbow of his grandfather

his feet were hot

people were boarding boats.

he was on his way to the hairy ears

that were moving with each sigh

as his grandfather looked back to the parched village.

REACHING FOR HOPE

i was laying on the beach sideways
sand tore through my insides
i breathed it in
and out
i made it here but what was that pain
where my foot should have been?

through one eye i saw the others
they were reaching up
the boats more together then when i left
the blue of the sea
made me want to go back

but oh how they swayed
the sky reached down to scoop them up
and 3 perfect doves
smiled down from their blue world
calling them home to the other side
of hope