Nested Arrangements

Poetry

[trenomas]

In the gaps between brick and mortar

We see how stone may stick together

Down there at the subatomic: a union,

Wedding bells brave the cold empty air.

Children dance, eyes on each other,

and lovers embrace to an ageless tune.

Down there at the thinnest voyage

Electrons shuttle little glass jars

Filled with nothing but breath, spirit. Across

ranges, rivers, valleys too relative to measure,

too close to sever.

Deep in here we work together.

Where a smile draws from another's spool

the will to carry on, villages straddle mountains

with nothing but blades of grass.

[trenomas]

Heavy faces

Drawn down on a line

On which a life dangles

Above the black

Tossed on the waves

Walking every which way

Drawn on lines:

The snares of sustenance.

And in the golden sunrise gleaming

Beads of sweat; crystal dew

Toils of a webwork teaming

With subtle vibrations.

To the ends of the world and back

[trenomas]

Lavender Lady

Thistle stands behind the house

Immigrant echoes in the round

Pale purple flower-ghosts

A memento of life

Watching over us.

She glances, fingering the hem of her heart

Secure in her brood and bedfellows

,The hub of the good earth,

But still measuring the folds of my blue beacons.

The twitching of my soil kissed fingers.

The world turns and the wind swirls through the purpling plums

Weeds peek at me, jealous. Curious.

Why their bramble's eyes might slide by

Orbiting anew

Smooth around her lurid lavender lush

The axel of my eye

[trenomas]

Little creatures

I'm telling her that her cut flowers are full of creatures

While I stir salt into cut cabbage leaves

She goggles "three weeks?"

I say "communities take time to grow"

But we can taste the slow passage and revel in each phase

I begin to glow as I hold up a leaf

"these are my people," I say, but she's not listening

"So you just let that rot? You just let them in?"

I can't believe I'm the one telling her. I can't believe

she doesn't know.

These little creatures flow through me,

take part in something greater.

And in turn I take part in their smaller lives.

“We are the same,” I stupidly say.

Eyes wide, she doesn’t see it.

She just takes my hand and links me with humanity once again.

The grocery store chains rust in our brine and, let loose

I am a collective. I am undone.

I stand in the kitchen hand raised and proclaim

"Am I not a god to these beings?

Shouldn't I at least try to be a benevolent one?"

[trenomas]

Arterial flight

Doing 120 bpm on the highway

Heart skips, and we break the boundary

Rails curls and air splits,

As a two-ton engine bursts the vein

Float that shit

I'm never touching the ground

[trenomas]

The Veery

Thrushes are proof of other worlds

Songs flowing between sheets

Notes written in a parallel tongues

I can only just taste them

On the path my feet stop like lead

The brushing of my walk hushes

In the sky clouds curl into new scripts

She spreads curved wings across that open

Calling

A black keyhole to heaven

And they say there are no aliens

And they say 'alien' in a familiar language

And they say there are sounds beyond ears

And they say the tree fell in the forest

But there are always peoples around

And they say, they say, they say,

but how could they,

When the thrush's words pierce the very veil

of sound?

[trenomas]

I'm not really a poet I just talk to myself

I'm trying not to feel doomed here.

I’m trying not to feel cursed here.

I’m trying not to be anything, really.

I'm trying to experience a rationality.

We make our own luck, right?

But where does it come from?

Stolen fortune, like stolen land?

How much is there to go around?

In my heart of roots, a keening attracts:

flies, buzzards, beetles, worms,

those that feed on

futile hopes and furtive pleasures.

If wishes were fishes, I’d be a rancid pier.

Out there humans stand tall on palaces

of comfort creatures, unseen allies, and an

ocean of clear, beating hearts.

We all share one breath, but I think

some of us get more to breathe.

I hear when you cut parts off a tree regularly

you get more than what you started with.

That’s why my body is not a body, not a temple.

Already tissues knit, and dormant buds awaken.

If there are so many fish in the sea,

why would I sift the sahara for gold?

[trenomas]

She is not into me and I gotta get over it.

I can't spend the rest of my life pining.

The glasses warp and the shoes don't fit.

When she's around I forget how to sit.

And then there's this:

Deepthroated pain boils, burns into the lightness of hope

Fear clashes again and there's her eyes flitting

What are we doing?

I just want to be what I am.

Windy days are my bane. When the cold strikes

I bundle up in my heart, hearing the soft mysteries

and wondering. If I'll ever recover. Ever sing joyfully.

If I'll ever be connected head to toe and sing.

I could fester over glances and tones

But there are roses deepest purple

With no effort at all

[trenomas]

Sweet bleed

Prizing green crowns from Ruby

berries. Crushed in fat fingers.

Juice stings sinking through

cracks in my skin: the memories

of her thorns.

[trenomas]

The Cleanings will continue until morale improves

Porta potty white sticker 

Date serviced: 7-day intervals

Last one 6-10

We were still together then

There's nothing to flush in here

Just a smear of rancid goop.

With a fake lemony smile

And a sting like salt, mistakes.

[trenomas]

Who could write at a time like this?

The words come in stillness

In Peace, they say, the world follows.

The Way flows through a held moment.

yesyesyes,

But then again: the lightning

Sharp metal edges

Earth’s blood poured, pounded

Grit into gobbets of callousness

Cold steel to split the skies apart

I spit the bitter tang out of my mouth,

But it’s only blood

And it somehow dances into a shape 

Of words and letters 

I can remember when these used to mean something

I can remember when we shared the great music

I am dared to care

Gunfire over the horizon 

Flash of rockets

There is no poetry here

Only death and plunder

The word dribbles from my mouth

The word twists from wry lips

The word spills from my emptiness 

Where is the peace in this, My friend? 

You promised 

You promised

You promised

[trenomas]

Who could write at a time like this?

The words come in stillness

In Peace, they say, the world follows

The way flows through a held moment

yes,yes,yes,

But then again: the lightning

Sharp metal edges

Earth’s blood poured, pounded

Grit into gobbets of callousness

Cold steel to split the whole apart

I spit the bitter tang out of my mouth,

But it’s only blood

And it somehow dances into a shape 

Of words and letters 

I can remember when these used to mean something

I can remember when we shared the great music

I am dared to care

Gunfire over the horizon 

Flash of rockets

There is no poetry here

Only death and plunder

Only a shattering sunder 

The word dribbles from my mouth

The word twists from wry lips

The word spills from my emptiness 

Where is the peace in this, My friend? 

You promised 

You promised

You promised

[trenomas]

A Calling of Spirits

Spirits of Air, Water, Earth, and Fire;

Show me how to flow, grow, sit still, and burn for the benefit of all.

Spirits of Oak, Apple, Hazel, Pine;

Show me how to root deeply, spread courageously, and give generously.

Spirits of Nettle, Milkweed, Willow, Vetch;

Please show me how to connect with all beings, and how to bind us all closer together.

Spirits of Spider, Rabbit, Raven, Coyote;

Show me the steps in this dance of shadows. Show me the movements through this dappled heart.

Finally, my spirits of Oak, Nettle, Fire, Man.

Rebuild me as sharp and sweet as the blackberry.

And may I bear as many blooms. 

[trenomas]

I think I like it when it rains Under pressure wet waves Slumbers low and dark and cool In silt and slime and sober sinking

The plankton pray with me Light and airy The rays drip through sheepishly I don't miss a single one. They come. They say to me "I see you, little one."

Wrapping myselves in harpstrings I'm as disagreeable as the winds Rolling overunder, roundthrough Hair whipping, clothes ripping I find myself near my own heartbeat Clear and finding Perfect for the murk and clay Of a rainy day.

[trenomas]

Erik wrestles with driving wheel along the narrow curves

Gaping ditches call to us through bracken baleen

Raindrops hiss acerbically

While the wipers heave a frenetic counterpoint

We're rolling along swimmingly

[trenomas]

Sand

Dry tears crust in the sun. Rocks go

all chalky white at the thought of that

endless enemy-- the scraping wind.

I am walking and it stings my skin.

Where are you juniper? With notes

of citrus and desert sunrise, of salt

and heavy lidded slumber. Oh sage

do you think I have forsaken you? I

hold your leathery leaves between

finger and thumb and I marvel how

the earth smells like a thing of firm

and substance I choke on its hale.

Solitude is a dry day. I am walking

to the water it’s on the way. I am

sweating vapor. The air it tastes of

juniper and sagebrush. They are

not here it is me and the pea stones

rumble under my feet dust crumbles

under my feet the earth crushes just

a little more and we all fall into the

sea.

[trenomas]

A creek fish witnesses the total eclipse

He says he'll save the world

I write twelve letters and call the day done

The rest was spent weeping and gnashing

Wallet and phone wallet and phone

The barber quiets when he hears

I just work at the grocery store across the street

Last week he biked across the country

I promised myself

But I never promised anyone anything

Is the grass really greener a blade over?

In the rush I feel so slow as to go backwards

And still. I'm the only one pushing.

If every book written had a reader

Does that mean everything is known?

Can I buy into that osmosis?

Can I have a bit of this?

Is there any water left? Any future?

The stars burn, scattered in the darkness

They have all the room they'll need

They cannot change the world

They are worlds enough