Novaculata Infinitum

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Tired

on August 15, 2023

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I'm tired

World weary

Mired in the tears of both my silent eyes

Crying out in

poem

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Row boat

I want to share a secret I want your ears close I want whispers to be our language I want you to know I treasure this moment most I want us to explode in laughter I want the waves of sincerity To lap gently at our little row boat Out upon a still lake And feel your presence as we stare into the depths And pass a cigarette back and forth We call each other by names Other people aren't supposed to know References built on intimacies And wide eyed staring Into each other's souls Your hands upon me As we hug, and smile, And cry Because why wouldn't we? We don't have to deny anything We don't have to hide We don't have to lie about how we're doing Or what we did Or what we're supposed to show. Can we find a space, a place, A Grace where suddenly this Subtle sacrament is toasted By our gentle awakening from expectations Into a love That holds us both?

Hermit's return

If you didn't know what wrong you did, But hid from it anyway, On what day would you say: This is it: I rid my life of all this pain, This shame; This acidic drip of guilt and misery I built, I spit it from my mouth: Not an ounce of it returns again. And I won't explain. I won't deface this moment with the broken remnants Of long gone pasts and smattered, sour broth of Caustic sentiments; I won't address the devil in his depths, And in so doing lessen my own wealth; I've wept enough to furnish Oceans from my tears, and fears that kept me Hefting burdens, left me murdering the light of oh so many years. I've been tested and molested by my mind's unsightly messes, And to excess I held it all so dear. Hear me out: I make this statement, clear and loud. I won't accept another minute made of maddening derision and debasement; I sing my song as proudly and as rowdily as lungs will carry, And discard despairing. In amazement, I emerge encouraged from diminutive...

Mallow's Majesty

Hark! What Mallow's majesty embarks To dance in visions on thine eyes? An emerald amazement, gracing of the ground With luster, sparkling as stars that shine. And sweet clouds partnered perfectly By pattering tears And roots spread thusly, far and fine: Must we wait, while justly such a humble fate – as Flora finds – Bestows the great dramatic magic that the world lays out plain as day, And soft as sequined night. Betrothed, from ages named and faded to the old, and rightly, Sown so, ever after for a silent while – Most highly on our sights are they enthroned In Gardener's delights, and smiles

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