Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously

Archive for March, 2015


There is no perfect safety

no guarantee of anything

in this precarious happening
that is happening
as it happens

one breath at a time

if we are lucky
we might share the breath
inhaling what little
safe haven we find
before we expire

who knows what will happen

I am just glad

that if there is no perfection
there is the potential
for a space
for a moment
to be imperfect

(c) RCGA 2015


Musical Interlude

Just outside the Creole bar
in the gravel
we laugh

emerging from the hot dark noise
with a swaggering stagger
in the face of night chill

the stars roll
like the tiny lights
across the dance floor
twinkling in their constellations
keeping a cosmic beat

we drift into a circle

almost huddling
but not quite

conversation moving
to the right

don’t hesitate your turn
move along
move along

I can see the moon
reflected in your eyes
but the color is gone
we are all the same
out here in the dark

like cats
we are grey
like cats
there are no strangers
in the alley
or the parking lot

keep the conversation moving
until we’re all full
and go back inside
to bathe in the blues
and the tiny lights
that now look like stars
in a particolored sky

(c) RCGA 2015

The Opposite of Casual

Yes, it may be just as easy
to fall in love
with a rich man
as a poor one

if you don’t mind being
the camel
on its knees
making its way through
the needle

Despite mother’s dictum
I tried it early
and ran away
selling my picket fence
for the chance
to run in untamed fields

Once or twice
when I said
to another wandering soul

Oh, let’s not marry
let’s just play
I’ll be your sister golden hair
you can be
my leader of the pack
we can thunder across the landscape
of this crazy place
or some other
until we ease the pain

somehow my grasping hand
found another in it
and caught up short
I slipped into domesticity

with no desire
to shake free

and yet in some twist
the great forever
always managed
to unlace my fingers

though I feel a little ruined
for the midway
not as easy with the open road
standing on the sidewalk
peering over picket fences
into warmly lit windows
framing circles
I will never know

I feel you standing
tall and warm behind me
your eyes fixed
on the same tableau

and I am afraid
you are going
to reach for my hand

(c) RCGA 2015

Love Sometimes

The day that you broke me
was when you proved
that even though
you wanted me
that even though
you loved me

you knew you couldn’t have me

and the fantasy fractured
the truth inside us both

love sometimes
is not enough

though it is a great thing

love sometimes

and other times

we can hold
we can press
we can wish
we can dream

but eventually

if we let go
and it doesn’t stay
or we step back
and life intrudes
with tasks and paths
and lessons
the medicine of breathing
preventing us
from holding our breath
in that shared space
sending us gasping
into the world
alone again

love sometimes
breaks your heart

(c) RCGA 2015


One night
sitting out
admiring the stars
I stared for so long
it appeared
moved across the sky

his arm raised
as he chased
his stellar prey

I know
from my lessons
that it is me
moving silently
despite my inactivity
on this watery ball

but my right mind
tells me
that his deltoids flex
over Betelgeuse and Bellatrix
that the caps of his knees
shift beneath
Saiph and Rigel
that his belt swings
as he runs
Alnitak, Alnilam, Mintaka jingling
and Meissa twinkles
in his eye
as my own eyes drift
to the nebula
barely hidden
at his loins

So maybe I am moving
or maybe
I am just moved

(c) RCGA 2015

Crossing Rivers

Saw a sign in passing
that said
“Honey Island Swamp”
when I crossed over
the river of pearl

and across the years
the image came
a Cajun boy
with mussed dark hair…
walking ahead of me
on a disused iron trestle bridge
because I wouldn’t look down

then giving me
my first cigarette
when I made it across.

Inhaling that smoke
that he lit
with a match struck
on a rusty support
felt like victory

even if there were devils
of amusement
dancing in his dark eyes.

The river of pearl still flows
under the bridge.

The swamp still harbors
wandering children
wild in the marshland
small victories
reflected in the water.

(c) RCGA 20154th Iron Trestle or 1st iron Bridge


White sky


all along the sidewalks
pink and white
magnolia petals
shiver in puddles

unsure harbingers
of spring

or perhaps
of dying winter

beginning and ending
the same

small boats
with nowhere to go
but around again

(c) RCGA 2015flowers

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