Starseed Projects

Poems for the multiverse

website is relocating

Thank you all for visiting and reading my poetry.  I will post the url of the new website as soon as it is live next week.

This last collection is dedicated to a friend who died young of addiction.

---

poems

THE FALL

It’s a slow day in Paradise. 
Eve sits under a fig tree 
Polishing her toenails, 
Her body moist from the heat. 
Adam meanders nearby 
Tossing a ball in the air, 
Stopping now to take 
A swig of warm beer. 
He glances at Eve’s thighs. 
No, it’s too hot, 
Has been for centuries, 
And besides, it’s always the same. 
Eve eyes the apple tree, 
Plucks a piece of fruit like 
A magazine off the rack. 
So what is going on with J-Lo? 
Eve has to wear shoes now, 
A closet full of Manolos, 
It has added a swivel to her gait, 
A coyness to her smile.

What If 

He is the three-legged dog 
Devouring leftovers in back alley dustbins 
With the gratitude we claim during grace, 
The dark spot in the egg yolk 
There to remind us of the  
Perfection of the egg, 
The last spoonful of soup 
At the bottom of the tureen 
Holding the magic of patience, 
The day we wish would end, 
Our disappointed expectations 
Clouding a perfect sky, 
The last Hail Mary in the penance, 
The one we don’t finish, 
The one that would erase the sin.

last rites

He watches as we pass the salt, 
Voices lowered like buckets 
Into a well gone brackish. 
The possibility of afternoon bridge, 
Phone calls, 
The new hospice regime, 
More phone calls. 
The said and unsaid, 
Ave atque vale 
For the last time, again. 
Would you like dessert? 
He will not answer. 
We give him a slice anyway, 
Then throw the uneaten portion away. 
The cat watches the duck 
But cannot pounce. 
Even the water refuses to get hot. 
Father brings Communion, 
His hands hovering in the pause 
Between two eternities.

dreamcatcher

One morning he never woke up 
My son Christopher, 23 
Sleep apnia they said 
He just stopped breathing 
But it was really the dreams 
That took him away 
The ones that whipped him from 
One place to the next 
As fast as lightening 
Where he could surf the clouds 
Jump through galaxies 
Shapeshift, mindbend, bodydance. 
And his young soul, thus seduced 
Spoke the final words to his body 
Like an ancient Muslim to his wife 
I divorce thee, I divorce thee, I divorce thee 
And sailed away. 
We later found that sleep meds 
Had been misprescribed, medical murder 
But it was really our misplaced effort to contain 
The jazzed up energy of testosterone dreams 
We had ourselves sacrificed 
And now have lost a second time.

sober living

In this halfway house 
Halfway between insanity and 
A reality that will not take shape 
Vibrating like a Van Gogh landscape 
Where I am forever missing an ear 
I slip between A Starry Night 
Exploding in my cells 
And this new place whitened by 
Forgiveness 
An empty canvas of hope 
Navigating the continuum between high 
And what is its opposite - low? 
Between the cerebral cortex and the amygdala 
Home erectus in a cement city 
Or a crawling creature in ecstasy 
An adjective that undermines my sobriety 
As memories sabotage my adjectives 
The thing about sober living being 
It is sober, but is it living? 

bodily fluids

Blood spatter on the ceiling, 
a woman reading tea leaves, 
fate patterning, 
thunder in her head with the first call, 
he’s been fired again, 
lightening in her hair with the second call 
the Black Mexican has a new shipment of black tar, 
rain on her cheeks with the third call, 
the bank account, like the fridge, empty. 
She steps onto the toilet, 
the sink, damp sponge in hand, 
Lady MacBeth 
erasing the evidence.

freeclimbing

Just you, your wits, the cliff, the sun and the wind 
No one knows why I do it 
Every handhold and foothold 
A near death experience. 
He is lying on the floor 
White foam coming out of his nostrils 
The bloody needle still in his arm 
I run in frantic circles around the body 
Afraid to touch him 
To know if it is still him or a body 
My friend, my lover, my nemesis? 
Each time becoming more a stranger 
In they stomp in firefighter boots and helmets 
Gracie flying through the air 
Binky low-crawling out the door 
Would I ride in the ambulance 
Or follow in my car? 
Oh no, I have to find my cats 
That look from people who don’t understand 
The cliff is too steep 
It is all you can do to reach up to the next ledge 
And hold on 
Years later when the oncologist explains 
About the drain under my arm  
My only question is how do I feed the cats? 
That look from people who don’t understand 
The cliff is too steep 
It is all you can do to reach up to the next ledge 
And hold on

get over it 

He was channel- surfing when 
UPS came for the last time 
With my birthday present. 
No apology is forthcoming. 
After all, he never had any birthday presents. 
She was talking on her cell when 
The new kitty slipped outside 
And hung itself in the mesh hammock. 
No apology is forthcoming 
After all, she never had a pet. 
They were playing golf in the Seychelles 
The week I spent being molested 
By my grandfather. 
No apology is forthcoming. 
After all, he had done it to her too. 
She was getting a cranial massage 
During my one visiting hour 
In heroin rehab. 
No apology is forthcoming. 
After all, it wasn’t my first time. 
I left them an empty envelope 
The night I swandived into the 
Caloosahatchee River. 
No apology is forthcoming.