August 16, 1978, Blue Mountain Beach
Religion makes devils of us all. Pain puts things into perspective. “In the beginning...” we asked our… “Who we are, where we are and why… and we invented gods.
Come with me and I will paddle us across the south side of heaven. I’ll spread out a handful of stars
At night I’d sit at my window and watch sidewalk strangers passing in the illumination of moon and streetlight
Riding to the water’s edge that da… Her and I on horses she’d ridden many times before.
Children swing north to south on grey rusted chains - red to them. Seasons move,
At times I may speak too much of the sea. That is where my last lover came from,
I wish you were like the shells I’ve collected through the years. I know they can’t wash away anymore
I have not seen of gods only men lying on their backs in the dust and children
This is my first poem to you. They’ll be many more as long as there are seasons to write them in.
I have searched and searched for someone... I’d buy roses just like my father bought my mother
You will not remember that day, that feeling of morning when we were held one to the other my laughter
Living without you On a love restricted diet Starving in the shadows Turning I saw your face on the wa…
You smell of incense and fire. I breathe you in. Consumed – I burn in your presenc… I have found ecstasy In the darkness
I left today or did I? I kept telling myself that I was going home so I could be alone
Sitting on silent drift the ocean beside me. Wrestling waters paint the shore as the brush