Piscarius Poetry

The night sky bleeds
As the questions of why linger
The glass of reality shatters

A haunting fire embraces all
devouring today
leaving a death that pierced yesterday

Laying awake
listening to Peace as it sadly speaks
Knowing a lonely daughter cries

A laughter cut short
Robbed of the breath
As morning rises with light and death
unprejudiced

A young woman whispers
As the liquid of time moves toward eternity
the marble of the truth speaks

She whispers
“Will you remember me and live”

Dedicated to my wonderful cousin, Britta. 1983-2009
You will never be forgotten, and we will live our lives with you in it.

250 million years ago
pretty much everything died.

Long before the dinosaurs we
know from school and Hollywood
stamped around eating cavemen
armed with Clovis point spears.

[Ook. Unconformity – the very essence]

There were lots of really
beautiful reefs then – full of
happy aquatic life: trilobites;
ammonites the size of truck
wheels; all sorts of pretty
bivalves and sea lillies.

Now they haunt the Guadalupe
Mountains and rattlesnakes
and lizards sun themselves
on the dry reefs of West Texas.

))){

sold some skis, first time
hopefully she skis them well
yup, k2 98’

_{Autumn – leaves on wind
I just stepped in dog poop
Alas! My new shoe}

))){

Intermittent river with
stony shore, shingly shore.

Important building in
built-up area by abandoned
railroad.

Examples of conspicuous
landmarks as pictorial
symbols.

Watermill; well; pavillion;
silo or elevator.

Promenade pier. Quay and
minor posts and piles.

Mean lower low water
and highest astronomical
tide.

Degaussing range and
submarine exercise area.

_{The poetry of NOAA Chart No.1}

))){

The finest things
of all unreservedly.

I (can) hold in my palm.

My thoughts of you
are ever expansive.

But I can compress
all them into my
closing fist.

Which I (can) press
against my chest.

My heart beats quick &
lilting: Moqueca de amor.

(then) I open
closed hand and, Ha!
L’amour a des ailes

(but, assuredly)

Smack into your
(oh-so) kissable

..lips, sweet thing.

Olive you

_{for loquacious}

))){

I scratched a match
in the dark

Lit a small votive
and scented candle
Cinnamon and spice

Curled in my bag

Contemplated the
very small flame

Blinked my brown
eyes

Oncely and twicely

Content was I

And a big fucking
moth flew into
the very small
candle and died
a small but
flapping death

And my small candle
evening was plunged
into a moth-death-induced
darkness, so

I went to sleep

Because the smallest
happy flame might
be put out at any
moment without a
single breath

))){

In B flat

Because you knocked
me down.

You played my heart
strings pizzicato:

Whenever I kiss you
or you I we leave
strings like invisible
spider silk.

Which are really
stretchy; you over
in the land of mini
skirts and football
fight songs.

Me in the land of
fog and rough roads
and cool looking
echinoderms in cold
waters.

Every time I miss
you I feel like I’ve
been tripping over
these strings.

Which lead to
you eventually.

_{for LL}

))){

Rainy day. I am tired
and have been entertaining
relatives.

My coffee – which is
good – steams in my
hand as I look out
the window beaded
with rain, rain, rain.

In my head we’re in
the desert and in your
dark hair and pale,
clear skin you could
be a faerie-maiden.

Dancing on the cool
sands under the moon.

I’d run after you and
chase you and catch you
and kiss you.

The stars would applaud.
Big audience.

))){

Hello your dark hair
streaming night around
me.

Sometimes I feel I’m
underwater and you
surround me.

All pale skin and
feverish kisses like
the ebb and flood of
an osculating current.

You’re all around me
and I close my eyes
and I’m anywhere and
nowhere.

And you are ever there.

_{for LL}

))){