Posts Tagged ‘Sand’

The Marshmallow

Posted: November 25, 2002 in Poetry
Tags: , ,

The Marshmallow’s hella mattress;
It is the phattest.
I swim under the covers
And curl up with my favorite actress.
One big pillow, this Marshmallow,
Stealthy quicksand for a tired fellow.

Chloe Dancing

Posted: January 7, 2002 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

A feeling I caught, awash in sand and sea
Bringing back some faint, foolish memory:
Chloe and stickman and rockman and I
In love for an evening because we were high.
Iceplant and kindling on the Santa Barbara sand
A stage built for my improvised puppets and hands.
Under the star-patched, moon-cloudy sky
We loved Chloe dancing, sticks, rocks, and I.

Nesting

Posted: May 18, 1997 in Poetry
Tags: , , , ,

One time I found
That I loved the warmth
Excavated by nesting:
Burrowing so far
Into a pile of pillows,
A weight of blankets,
The I left the world behind.

These were the laps
Of my imaginary mothers;
They were the arms
Of my dream-lovers.
Safe and tight
Inside a womb of covers,
Tented fabric and
Down-stuffed sandbags
Kept me secluded
From the shellshock of
Existing.

For Dawn Again

Posted: September 29, 1996 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , , ,

Forever I wanted to please you,
Hold you and keep your eyes and halo bright.

I am shy of you now;
Unimaginably wretched when in your sight.

I shall never love another like you.
There is nothing to turn my heart away.

And so this hurts the most;
That I was not able to keep pace today.

Lost and still losing you,
Time was an hourglass of Santa Barbara sand.

I must tie you down to love you.
Violation upon demand.

One comfort I still cherish
That I am still worthwhile to hate

Perhaps this can be rectified
If I can pull my own dead weight.

A Current Myopic Feud

Posted: May 15, 1995 in Poetry
Tags: , , , ,

Isn’t it tragic to be so wise
And profess to know the answers,
Yet I help myself to my most delicious lies
And avoid mirrors like they were cancer.
Can’t get it right – I am still hollow
Inflated, life like sleight of hand,
No deserters; the blind still follow
This blind man across the sand.

Big Olaf

Posted: April 23, 1995 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Once, while sitting
On a tide-surrounded
Piece of Sunset Cliffs,
I smelled boyhood,
A summer scent:
Warm sand, blue cool ocean,
Seaweed, shells, swells, surf wax;
Coconut tanning oil
SPF 15.
The silence of waves before they break,
Bodyboard rash and sunburns,
The sharp asphault places in the parking lots,
Kicking sand on the backs of your calves
When wearing flip flops.
Bonfires and beer drinking,
Big Olaf’s waffle cones;
Smoke and fireworks and Frisbees,
Barbeques, volleyball leather, and Cokes.
The wet, towel-covered vinyl seats
In the Monte Carlo,
All in one accurate slap
Of a wave and the wind
Gracing my face.

Punch Drunk

Posted: February 12, 1995 in Poetry
Tags: , , ,

I’m trying to escape;
Now, too late
To unchoose what I chose
What seems like long ago.
The responsibilities come
Steady, now – steady
As the tide churns the sand
On the beach is another
Wrinkle in the lines of my hand.
Roll with the punches, punch drunk;
More are on their way,
There’s no use cursing
About the ones landed yesterday.