poem for david gilmour

slow, sweet sound,
how i love you...

if music be the food of love, play on,
i want to gorge myself
until i'm full, and fat, and sick,

that strain again! it had a dying fall,
it fell over my ears like the drowsy breeze
fluttering a field of vivid blossoms,
hypnotizing endless crystal cloudless sky,
perfect blue, and emerald green,
and poppies, poppies,
poppies...

i awake from a trance as the music ends,
feel a flutter in my chest,
and hit play again.

cairn

i placed a stone, and sang a song,
fi ome
and another stone,
crawling through crisp fallen leaves,
fi fi ome
and another stone,
by the crumbling wall in the woods,
fi fi fi ome
and so it was done,
and i buried a penny where the paths crossed.

poem for darth vader

a little boy,
angry, afraid

a frightened little boy
with the strength of a man,
and the passion

this boy cannot grow old,
or only all at once, in a moment
the boy dies
and the man is startled into existence,
spiteful and sad,
immortal but with nothing to live for

and always so lonely,
longing for lost love,
a mother, a wife,
a son

no question

this time i know
the moon whispered me secrets
in the meantime
watch the trees
burn orange and die
they will be born again green
just as you've forgotten about them
a memory a dream
and nothing will stay the same
good and bad will grow
and change and pass away
until everything ends
and everything begins again

obscure

i stretch my arms
to touch the other side,
elongating my spine,
separating my shoulders,
dislocating my elbows,
spidery scuttling fingers grasping
at something just outside of reach,
or imagined to be.

i want to send my reach outside
of itself, like fishing,
casting out my hands
and reeling them in, empty.

what is it that i can't see?
it's so dark out there.

poem for a windy night

who were you who spoke to me
in quiet hushes on cruel march winds?
you know i wanted to be with you there,
wanted to be you,
just like you,
and you be me.

was it you who spoke to me?
whistling, howling, roaring,
rattling the windows in your fury,
then just a hum, a hiss,
a tickly whisper in my ear,
for me alone.

where were you in that quiet roar,
where is your anger, where is your fear?
why do you cry in the darkness
like a cat
begging to be let in from the rain?

who was it who spoke to me?
i hear a voice on the wind.

was it you who spoke to me?