February 24, 2011

The words

somehow lead

the way,

slipping down

steep banks

of desire

and longing

and the wish that wasn’t there

after all.

This ink

runs before me

on yellow pages lined

like roads that take me

forever nowhere

While slivers of dark

diamond eyes

Peer through the trees


their mangled tents

lining the streets

like beggars hoping for

a holy word:

Go and sin no more.

Dry empty clouds


a blanket of warm air

falling all over me

like a blessing.

Image by Nance

7 Responses to “Hover”

  1. Glynn said

    That’s one beautiful poem, Brad.

  2. nancemarie said

    this one steals the heart from my chest
    plays with it for awhile like a cat with a mouse
    then it puts it back
    not at all the same as it was

  3. I’ve read and reread.
    Brad ~ this is really really good. Just. wow.

    more please.

  4. This was like its own poem. I liked it so much…

    “This ink

    runs before me

    on yellow pages lined

    like roads that take me

    forever nowhere”

  5. Sheila said


    “…and the wish that wasn’t there
    after all.”

    Oh. That thought is going to rumble around in my mind for days…I can tell.

    Thank you.

  6. laura said

    Why are the clouds dry and empty? That part makes me sad. But then you turn them into a warm blanket and I feel the good there.

    This is so beautiful–bittersweet.

  7. I don’t know why the clouds are dry and empty. I write these sometimes late at night, before bed, so it comes out mostly as free-form subconscious blather that really turns out to be so much more substantial the next day. Actually, that is precisely what this poem is about — the yellow lines, the writing of the words, not sure where they are going to take me… And the dark side, peering from the edges, waiting to attack, or wanting something.
    So I would say the dry empty clouds are the lack of understanding I have regarding the meaning at the time, but it eventually all covers me and makes sense in the end. (not unlike my rambling right now!)

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