December 29, 2007 in poems by tanner
what aerial shroud hides
by tanner brockwell
what aerial shroud hides
the flying moon
a dance supreme
or between
the sporadic showers
driving driving
driven so
the rain tonight
the streets shine with lights
and i couldn’t sleep if i wanted to
for the night was young
wound up tight
the action out of sight
feeling good
wringing out the tension
don’t even say when
i heard the reverberations
popping so
self-center same
does this even have a name
it is not needless
but the symmetry of time
enjoying what is enjoyed
a smile a smile a sigh
for a sigh is all it was
i haven’t a doubt
there’s nothing left to see
the lot empties now
for the long night winding home
for a few it could be some
they are that went to bed
wishing kisses on other heads
wishes in some stuttering pause
i have kisses near
and sweet dreams to find
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December 26, 2007 in poems by tanner
taketh with eyes
by tanner brockwell
taketh with eyes
lost to you find him not
for the earth trembles
the cedars sway
he appraoches
no resting for the day
but the whole grassy plain
shall be feed
and satiation will not be found
the brooks running to the river
and lo they are dry
for the thirst cannot be quenched
there is a fire in the belly
there is a desire
wherefore is loneliness
where shall be found
company i say
no kin survivest to this day
this is a passage
the marks and manner
shall here be left
though he moves
a move forward
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December 22, 2007 in poems by tanner
the pedestrian
by tanner brockwell
the pedestrian
thoughts in grooves
though steps fast
or slow where he goes
a hundred no more
gliding rider
the rules unwrit
where you step
i am not
my mind the slow
evolution of thought
million million million
years are the rotation
a spinning a go
there is a fragile mystery
there is a hidden know
full front and so
but back the slithering
wiss wiss of electric instinct
but never a mode that would be so
this is crafty and unique
a genius of motion
so go and go
before there was petrol
there was bone
all shrunk down
beneath a quiet ground
fear can be fabulous
for a fabulous fright
we had the fire
before yet before we had the night
and hunted we
with charred sticks and stone
hunted we upon bison home
there hunger was abate
there we chose the myth to make
and daubed with ocher slight
we crawled the cavern tight
to leave the marks
and leave them right
a message of all we knew
the passion dangerous most true
and left to darkness dear
what was weak slipped
slipped through years
and buried bones
of other ways
are forgotten in other days
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December 22, 2007 in poems by tanner
decline the year
by tanner brockwell
decline the year
when the cold
takes hold
with chill
and i wish for frost
shocking ice
across the frozen view
i am cold
i am the chill on the tip
the frozen time
locked away
now free to fly
the dark night
bejeweled by diamond facets
the abrasive known
to the oily unknown
my magenta morning nears
what are facts
but lonely fears
you know the show
the warm arm
the hot tea
bergamot not me
brews in the small pot
so sweetness flows
the kiss of daisies
hold so close
close to see
the magic flight
dark my hush
for the shining rush
another push
so i think it near
would i if i might
the so so shining right
close enough to see
eyelids droop
time must find a sleep
was i wrong to appointments keep
departing arriving journey now
the night holds apparitions
silent sleep
dreams in slumber wake
good for night for sleeping thus
wake rosy eyes in sudden spark
is there a better dream
then to find a lover slept
in arms most welcome
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December 18, 2007 in poems by tanner
marchers they
by tanner brockwell
marchers they
in the driving wind
and the storm that hailed
no stragglers
no numbers missing
but a dozen
through the waste
fortuitous this day
that none had fallen
yet all would rise
last night dreams turquoise
were briefest comfort
the slack sail
tied up boat
on the shore
waiting a return
but for journey
to continue this day
slack this thirst
but not on the frozen stones
the wind has a soul
torn as it wills
the landing place quiet
a dream each in solitude
marchers they
but a dozen
were to seek but a legend
continuities
the succession of moments
the vertical datum
glimmering in ascension
measure measure
for toil or treasure
when yet these winds would cease
three to the ides sayest thee
for ides would be past gone
the measure that thou takest yet
but a jigger of courage then
for parched throats for courage whence
the night a type of stockade
has armors and defenses
oh but the shining
forgetful then
there is an oblivion
mark thus a measure
the immobile chill
luna tearful cried
and sorrow such is only hushed
in some frozen sleep
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December 15, 2007 in poems by tanner
fins and thus a relic
by tanner brockwell
fins and thus a relic
bygone by now
the other age
when foolish youth
coursed the vein
i told you then
the generation ends
the generation begins
stars fall to our feet
topsy rush or other day
there is no past relinquished
there is no future extinguished
just the flame
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December 15, 2007 in poems by tanner
deeper than that
by tanner brockwell
deeper than that
no sorrow can ever be
deeper than that
no tears say how much
deeper than that
no pity left unsaid
deeper than that
no journey could ever be
deeper than that
no longing with cold rain
our love supreme
with meaningful sighs
our love supreme
so much it overfills
our love supreme
unknown for good
our love supreme
fulfilling always
our love supreme
takes what could not be
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December 13, 2007 in poems by tanner
in the heart or in the head
by tanner brockwell
in the heart or in the head
join me
try me
find me
before i waking cry
before i quaking sigh
the tears of tomorrow say
why stay this hand
or had you flown
the cherry one
my littlest sigh
from pursed lips cried
if you leave
if i only stay
the words of hunger nourishing
i am solitude and silence
you are the world wide
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December 12, 2007 in poems by tanner
the sands have a dry trick
by tanner brockwell
the sands have a dry trick
that the light in the moon
the shine from the moon
comes down to illuminate
and the dunes sway
and the dunes say
this message is a certain way
the maps long path
is blank
erased
empty in these places
and i have a quill
and the ink pot filled
to narrate all that i find
the sands have a dry trick
that the light in the moon
the shine from the moon
comes down to illuminate
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