Farewell Spring

Posted on July 13th, 2010 by george.
Categories: enlightenment, epiphany, life, poetry.

The words I do not utter
The thoughts I do not voice
The photos I don’t take
For taking is thievery
The memories I’ll never share
And the ones I let slip
The moments I refuse to tarnish with my speech
These are the most important to me
For the greatest things in life
Are ineffable, indescribable, transcendent
And attempting to capture them
Is futile
They will always elude you
And you will rob yourself
Of that moment
That deep breath
That knowing smile
That ever-so-delicate
It is only by letting go
That we can begin to grasp



Posted on January 6th, 2010 by george.
Categories: poetry, space, technology.

swing low
sweet chariot of fire
dive deep
metal-skinned dragon
in the icy
sea of air
rise again
o sleek phoenix
into the starry night
learn well the path
that glides your precious cargo


Boy with a Coincidence

Posted on June 19th, 2009 by george.
Categories: coincidence, epiphany, friends, life, music, numbers, poetry, serendipity.

This morning my hands were so full that I left In Rainbows on the kitchen counter by accident.  I had to choose a CD on the commute, so I picked one from my case that’s been neglected for weeks:  The Shepherd’s Dog, by Iron & Wine.  At work I got a tweet from Sholeh.  She hadn’t tweeted in over a month. It read, “One year since I came back from Haifa: http://sholeh.calmstorm.net.”  I hadn’t been to her blog in months.  I read her prose and poetry and realized I hadn’t written in just as long.  I was inspired, so I wrote this:

deep in diodes
the world at a stop
my lifeblood pulsed
the same shade
as the light
cast off by electrons
funneling down the rabbit hole
at the moment
providence beamed upon my crown
a glimpse
of the essence of red

now drinking daily
from the only watering hole
the ripples calm
to reveal a change in stripe

is this some new animal
some tender new shoot
or the same heart
sheathed in endless years?

what use is fluttering
in a cage designed
not to confine
but instruct?

wings newly wed

will spread
soon enough

for now they flutter
and endure

for ultimate reunion awaits

more powerful than any
in this life

At the exact moment I finished writing, I got a text from Lorenia reading, “New blog post!”  I clicked through the link to fresita.org on Sholeh’s blog, read all about psycho kitty (qu’est-ce que c’est?), and promptly posted a comment.  The second it posted, I saw that Sholeh had commented at the exact same time, down to the minute.

Ok.  So great coincidence, right?  Just wait, the braid draws tighter.  I was lost in thought on the drive home, Sam Beam

cooing my worries to sleep, when I realized I had just heard The Lovesong of the Buzzard, the song whose meter inspired my last good poem, Alhambra, written about Lorenia.  Down the road, I glanced up at the glowing, green traffic light passing overhead, right at the moment Sam sang, “Like stubborn boys with big green eyes.”  In fact, I saw it precisely as he said, “green.”  It struck me that in the poem I’d just written, I referred to sitting at a red light, staring at the LEDs.  Now the light was green, a symbol of hope, and I was moving forward.  The song ended, and the very next track was “Boy With a Coin,” which Sholeh had first clued me in to on 07-11-07, while she was in Haifa, the place she wrote about today.  Coincidentally, we had one opportunity to launch of STS-127 this week, but a faulty GUCP valve scrubbed it until 07-11-09, exactly two years later.  Furthermore, on the poem Alhambra, Sholeh’s comment was, “makes me think of sunsets, for some reason. lovely.”  The poem she wrote that inspired me today?  It’s entitled, “sunsets always make me miss everyone.”

In searching for where she mentioned that song, I entered “coin” on sliding thoughts and came up with exactly two entries…both about coincidences.  In searching on LJ for the same, I found a fitting end to this post.

into my heart’s treasury
i slipped a coin
that time cannot take
nor a thief purloin, –

oh better than the minting
of a gold-crowned king
is the safe-kept memory
of a lovely thing.

-Sarah Teasdale



Posted on April 7th, 2009 by george.
Categories: dreams, poetry.

some days
dreams feel close at hand
lashes flecked with sand

the veil worn thin and soft
betwixt the flame and moth

a single tender blade
an endless windswept glade



Posted on November 7th, 2008 by george.
Categories: enlightenment, epiphany, history, life, poetry, space.

No light from any star on high
Can ever reach your earthbound eye
Unless it travels ‘cross the sky
Through time for you to see it

For time is just a form of space
As poets past have long embraced
So every photon starts a race
The moment its star frees it

The race is won when through the air
It strikes your eye while standing there
Its maker’s beauty brought to bear
The journey done at last

The sky of now you’ll never see
From here unto eternity
For stars in your reality
Are from the distant past

Indeed the closest star to us
Past twenty trillion miles must
Ring out its light in hope and trust
In four years it will shimmer

Watch it sparkle watch it dance
Think of how it took the chance
That in the future you might glance
Above and see it glimmer

So when you take in constellations
Think of ancient men and nations
Of firmament’s eternal patience
In shedding all its light

And know you’re watching history
That stars aren’t where they seem to be
And some have even gone to sleep
In that unending night


Let’s dance

Posted on August 14th, 2008 by george.
Categories: dreams, future, music, photography, poetry, youtube.

last night met David Bowie
in future New York City
he said, “Hey man
wanna see my pad?”

felt like a suffragette
face in elevator chrome
got off at twenty-seven
the view on top so rad

private island high rise
I spied the streets below
I had my baby’s camera
to shoot the passing scene

out into the lobby
escorted by the duke
asian paparazzi
then crashed my little dream

how odd it must be for him
to deal with all the fame
for just a little stardust
the people scream and yell

elbow to the window
ignoring all the din
I zoom on things below
to see what tales they tell

a traffic jam with police
directing all the flow
I couldn’t time the shot right
being jostled at the glass

finally I got it
the next moment I awoke
two cops, a jumping high-five
now that’s a dream with class

1 comment.

The beholder

Posted on July 18th, 2008 by george.
Categories: poetry.

he is the one
who lights the match
holds it to the tear-soaked wood
and prays
his faith is worthy
of the miracle
to set the pile of sticks
the tinder of his past
all that counts for his life
to melt the golden calf
and let run
the molten, searing pain
of his vain imaginings
far away
down the river
clogged with self-wrought



Posted on July 2nd, 2008 by george.
Categories: poetry.

Scraping along on a dirty hull
Lord in heaven my senses are dull
Won’t you lift off the veil from my cloudy eyes
Or make wings of my sails that can take to the skies
Can’t you hear how heavy I’m heaving my sighs
As the night
Draws near
Like a thief

So low seem the clouds on this soft blue ball
Should I reach for my star and let go of it all
Loose the chains, free the mooring and leap for my life
Tumbling headlong for children, a mortgage, a wife
With this freedom of choice should I steer clear of strife
Or see light
Shed a tear
And believe?


Flat calm sea

Posted on June 12th, 2008 by george.
Categories: poetry.

broken rudder

flat calm sea

capsized heart

weakened knees

doldrums pounding

sails gone slack

headed nowhere

on an endless tack

radio silence

static mind

scorching sun

empty rind

passing ships

silent nights

alone and numb

dead to rights

gyre and gimbal

slicked with crude

no horse survives

this latitude

titanic silence

feels very still

cut the tether

fit the bill

keeling over

drinking brine

long on sorrow

short on time

on the surface

down below

face turns blue

all time low



Posted on May 18th, 2008 by george.
Categories: life, love, poetry, space.

a soft night descends on a day haply spent
each redolent breath being heavenly sent
yet minds will conspire to question the love
mistaking for ravens the snowy white doves

the illusion of distance is seemingly vast
from ocean to sea, between future and past
but let go your worries; relinquish your frets
give up on your wagers, forsake all your bets

remember your smallness, recall well your place
a blue marble rider in limitless space
a warm, sunbathed planet upon which to roll
release your concerns for you’re not in control