Saturday, October 17, 2009

October 17, 2009

'




winter's been
here too long, woman . . .
barren limbs!


pack up and
find someone else you
can treat like
shit, i'm tired of the
stale air that bred you


rainbow,
sing me to sleep . . .
the wind!


one day, you
too will endure winter
without clothing


winter?
up early lighting
lanterns


what i'd give
to be an egret
moored in mud


i can't be
the mirror no one
can be . . .
the cost of a
good seat, too costly


sail with me
into a black hole . . .
winter dusk


i refuse to
be a crucifix
again
for someone who could
be my daughter


i cause a
friend grief, feed her
winter


she surprised
me last night, saying
she wanted
us to share a room . . .
day moon in traction



another
dream spewing blossoms
towards dawn                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     



this morning
a photo of the
river told
me to send a text
to my wife carefully


dragon,
any night but tonight . . .
jack fruit moon!


will you,
dragon, fly out of
my discharge
papers, like a comic book
character and eat me ?


burnt leaves . . .
it rains every
day here


how can i
be in too many
dreams at once?
a dragon pretending
to be a lamb?


a lunatic,
this leaf, riding the
rapids?


like mount
pinatubo, i'm
ready to
blow! the nerve of her
to think i'm blind!



she tosses a
noose, telling me to
hang the moon



morning . . .
when the crows of
roosters and
clouds merge into a
mass calling plato


your chatter,
bamboo, swallowed
by trikes


stay, mars!
place your arrows
beside your
bed and dream of a
world between wedges


cry, roosters!
dream your final
dream at dawn


morning mist . . .
makiling's dream
blanket . . .
her lover, banished?
dead? in hiding?


and the tide . . .
drawing trees into a
pauper's dreams?


she storms
into a mall store
fishing for
a fish that doesn't
exist . . . a fire fly


clouds scatter . . .
she loves to see girls
run from her!


why the
theater, the circus,
the mirror that
that stretches shapes
in a dawn of words?


by robert d. wilson

©2009













                            

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

October 13, 2009























winter's been
here too long, woman . . .
barren limbs!


rainbow,
sing me to sleep . . .
the wind!


one day, you
too will endure winter
without clothing


winter?
up early lighting
lanterns


what i'd give
to be an egret
moored in mud


i cannot
be the mirror no one
could be . . .
the cost of a good
seat too costly


sail with me
into a black hole . . .
winter dusk


i cause a
friend grief, feed her
to winter




robert d. wilson
©2009

Monday, October 12, 2009

October12, 2009













smiling . . .
a cloud with nothing
better to do


a something
that keeps me from
skipping stones . . .
twatching you wade
through heaven's river


white lilies . . .
singing the language
of water


riding home in
a jeepney through a
dream that
went sour, a text message
chanting bamboo song


listen, owl . . .
the wind mimics
your prayers


you act like
it never happened . . .
her anger
tossing our dreams
out the front door


heavy rain .. . .
a worm seeks higher
ground


a facial
with new age music . . .
the feint song
of people talking with
out-of-tune hammers


brushing leaves . . .
tea dances with remnants
of autumn


nun-like,
she walks with her
head down
cleaning streets in
front of schoolmates


the glimmer
of morning on a
jeepney's tail


she's wants
to let another
man fuck her
so she can have a child
that looks quapo


she speaks to
a bamboo, and becomes
the bamboo


she will stop
at nothing to get
what she wants . . .
a wriggling tialapia
waiting to be filleted


feel the wind . . .
it carries another
man's words


what we want
takes time and coffee...
dreams don't pop
up from paintings, walking
through mute rainbows



ant, could i
have been you in
a past life?


worker ants
carry food to
their queen . . .
not questioning
what's right or wrong


mid-winter . . .
a leaf's shadow plays
catch with a moth


the day's
coming when arched backs
will straighten
and rice fields will be
be tilled by their owners




robert d. wilson
©2009

Saturday, October 10, 2009

October 10, 2009






























old woman,
your outstretched cup . . .
bitter gourd?


without your
cell number, i'm at
a loss for words . . .
if i make a book for
Renzo , can we talk?



where is
moses, the street's
filled with toads


childhood friend...
he steps on leaves
the texture
of those having
been there and back


twilight dawn . . .
blow flies covering a
mother's dream


she's afraid
of and loves me
not knowing
what to do when i
walk through windows


a gecko
tonight, singing
lullabies


day and night
i hop from cloud
to cloud
forgetting the
world around me


silence . . .
a field of toads
without words


it took you
a while to cool off . . .
this morning,
a glimpse of you
washing our new car


look, a
christmas tree made
in china!


how can i
sleep tonight knowing
my words cut
you into pieces in
front your co-workers


swathing me
with lavender oil. . .
bamboo song


you stepped
out of my words into
a caption
standing on its head
above my heart


robert d. wilson

©2009


Thursday, October 8, 2009

October 9, 2009

























heavy winds . . .
my daughter's photograph
slightly tilted


what does the
tide think of people
running in
circles, changing
all but themselves?


shanty girl . . .
another world passing
you by


rain, sun, clouds . . .
we know, don't we?
the river
below us, a captain
going with the flow


elephant ear . . .
temple of the spirits
holding heaven


heavy winds
and scattered rain . . .
too soon
says a passenger
with muddied shoes


dragonfly . . .
carry my dream across
the ocean


will you come
tomorrow and give
yourself to
me, the sky a
river pushing stars?


twilight dawn . . .
what do clouds say
to black crows?


twilight dawn . . .
running from the
crow's shadow,
a cat plays with me
like he does with dinner


third typhoon . . .
my morning coffee
losing steam


a shanty
without windows . . .
a woman
cook the family meal
over hot coals


jack fruit moon . . .
a different world,
fish farms


go ahead,
haunt me with the
emptiness
of eyes living
on borrowed time


and winter . . .
fishing for the dead
in thick mud


a shriveled
up old woman
begs for
money on steps
she used as a child


butterfly . . .
do you tire of being
called a moth?



i waited
for hours hoping
you'd show up . . .
drinking coffee I
I knew I wouldn't finish



robert d. wilson

©2009

Friday, October 2, 2009

October 2, 2009














let's follow
the moon tonight
since our
hearts have spoken . . .
tracing starlight


how can
i not worry?
delicate wings
perched upon flimsy
tree limbs


a typhoon's
coming and all think
of is you


end storm!
give us the eden
we've dreamed of


all i can
give you at this time
is my heart
beating as yours
our breath as one



your hands
today forecast more
than weather



pull me in
to your breasts and
feel one
song sung by two
in the heat of winter



you do
and don't, the tearing of
branches in winter


late night
waiting for the typhoon
to hit . . .
and you, on the computer
reading my poetry


steeped in thought,
you feel winter on
his way home


can you
fulfill your promise
to become
an old man's lover on
a monopoly board?


what'll happen
when the typhoon hits?
strange brew



robert d. wilson

©2009

Thursday, October 1, 2009

October 1, 2009
















like a star
she's at the same place
every night . . .
blinking on and off
like a neon light


an egret,
the north star, moored
in clouds


it was nice
of her to txt me
tonight,
telling me that she too
tires of the darkness


deep morning . . .
a cat cleaning the
palengke floor * palengke: Tagalog for market place


my puppy
loves me as is . . .
a sandal
to nibble on
when boredom calls


another
set of eyes drew
me into
a dream i'll harbor . . .
like a ship docking


eating clams . . .
the sea dripped slowly
from her lips


is it some
kind of magic?
a touch of
spring? a blossom
wanting to be picked?


your eyes . . .
a different side
of winter


are you one
of those who smile
and can't say
no, a comic book
character at night?


humid night . . .
watching winter
pass me by


outside my
window, a volcano
slumbers . . .
waiting for her
lover to return


i wake up
to words covered with
pollen


another
set of eyes drew
me into
a dream i'll harbor . . .
like a ship docking


eating clams . . .
the sea dripped slowly
from her lips


is it some
kind of magic?
a touch of
spring? a blossom
wanting to be picked?


sudden wind . . .
a chill as she passes
through me


is it God
weaving us together
into a
tapestry that can't
wait until tomorrow?


time didn't
exist when the rain
came and went


like children
we close our eyes and
hold each
other's hands in a
a toy jeepney


Early spring?
an egret spreading
her shadow


neither of
us want to be alone
facing walls . . .
without candles
and warm smiles


slowly,moon
paints a smile on
egret's nose



will you
enjoy poetry
painted in
captions above
makiling's mist?


moonlight . . .
dancing across your
breasts


sudden wind . . .
a chill as she passes
through me


is it God
weaving us together
into a
tapestry that can't
wait until tomorrow?


time didn't
exist when the rain
came and went


like children
we close our eyes and
hold each
other's hands in a
a toy jeepney


Early spring?
an egret spreading
her shadow


neither of
us want to be alone
facing walls . . .
without candles
and warm smiles


slowly,moon
paints a smile on
egret's nose



will you
enjoy poetry
painted in
captions above
makiling's mist?


moonlight . . .
dancing across your
breasts


dream
of me while the
serpent sleeps
and rhinocerouses
blindly follow


©2009
robert d. wilson