Friday, May 18, 2007

starved rock


I am drifting mist
shrouding sacred souls
condensing cool 
on
rounded rocks, a
blanket for embracing moss

hazy fingers who in grasping
for the twisted trees
plummet instead to churning waters
merging my sorrows' songs
with loons’ soft and haunting melodies

I am the dying shattered tree
my red heart
laid open, my decay -
now marrow for our mother earth

the musky redolence in damp
disintegrating leaves, my grave -
a witness forever to
the silhouettes of passing lives

I am footfalls barely
heard between
heartbeats - felt
scarcely behind you on the
leaf-strewn path

dancing in the mist of a
waterfall who carved
my stone face
within each teardrop

I am all of these

I am the questions
you dare not ask

your face - that you do not see

I am your dead
I am forever
.



Dedicated to: The Illinois.
Seeking revenge for a tribal murder the Potawatomi paddled down river to attack the Illinois. The Illinois sought refuge on top of a high rock. They climbed up to the summit of the rock hoping that the Potawatomi would by-pass them on their way southward. Unfortunately, the plan backfired and the Potawatomi surrounded the base. As the Illinois tried to get water by lowering buckets with rope the Potawatomi would cut the ropes or shatter the buckets with their arrows. They also climbed up on top of Devil's Nose and showered them with arrows. As the Illinois grew more desperate, some tried sneaking down, but they were murdered. The rest that were left on top, starved. Since then, the rock has been known as "Starved Rock."

universally speaking

I am nothing

more than words;

(composed in marrow)

meaningless
shapes on
dry pages

every thought
is a prayer

for heaven?
for hell?
I don't know.

engulfed in
unutterable answers

I make love
to darkness


are you more precious
because of your
dying?

- picking, eating, dead flesh
with your iced fingers -

or still precious in spite of it?

do hearts explode
with grief,
or do they hide,
again?

again. and again. and, again.

a man will bury himself
alive,
(I've watched. holding his shovel)
(again)

do you notice
mother earth's dark womb
engulfing you again?

I hate these words.

I hate my words.

again.

I hate.
I hate loving you
again.