tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52490542019618243842011-07-08T02:16:53.574-07:00Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.comBlogger1351100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-2929807597258996402007-12-12T22:39:00.000-08:002008-03-16T16:30:10.065-07:00

Something Something Something my heart.Something Something that's true.Something Something Something from the startSomething Something I love you.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-54571773682523604282007-11-18T22:12:00.000-08:002007-11-18T22:17:26.065-08:00

Autumn, come quick,burn into my soul theselast impressions of you.Every vowel of hope, pinnedupon consonants of intention,I suffer the misgivingsof this memory lapse.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-83700152284227658542007-11-18T22:09:00.000-08:002007-11-18T22:11:58.155-08:00

Still held: memoriesOf conversations near-lost,bitter/sweet remnants.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-87451294938196540262007-10-26T07:38:00.000-07:002007-10-26T07:42:41.401-07:00

A Nightmare rises;fearing our love was nothingbut some quaint daydream.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-12291691755318542452007-03-11T18:18:00.000-07:002010-11-19T10:23:38.628-08:00

Sometimes I thinkThis whole worldis built on lies.But this is not us is it?Sometimes I imagineWe are still closeand our friendship won't fad(e)But that is not us is it?

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-44239956466805589252007-03-11T18:14:00.001-07:002007-03-11T18:14:55.883-07:00

Nevermind meandOur silence grows angry.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-61163236706086796432007-03-11T18:10:00.000-07:002007-03-11T18:50:38.284-07:00

With a por-crackle-fizzfirecrackers boom - light descendant,crystal-white angelspeer out of sulfur haze.A startle of noiseto remind me of your disappearnace3 years ago today.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-51011523064118331522007-03-11T17:49:00.000-07:002007-03-11T17:51:22.276-07:00

Late at night or in midday,this house creaks and moansand drives me mad.There is no end to winds or rainsor coldnessor blankness.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-83272295768515809742007-03-11T17:42:00.000-07:002007-03-11T17:49:04.439-07:00

When life blurs like watercolor blue-grayit should mean nothing to me.- As it does to you. -My heart doesn't work like that.I do not count backwards whenI find reminders of sore spotsOr when we rise like combatants.I do not let shadows mingle with lightand I will not count back to zero.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-68643988234573386132007-03-11T17:38:00.000-07:002007-03-11T20:19:14.064-07:00

I seek any convenient Jesusor a Mary Magdalenewith which to confess or selectmy new sins.A diplomat in the nightor a friend where I can turn.Someone to lay me prostrateand wish away the shinglesfrom my eyes.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-46381836941969666252007-03-11T17:29:00.000-07:002007-03-11T17:36:52.749-07:00

Filled with the breath of cold-colored windsand a mid-summer downpour, moon is calling.Through broken clouds and harsh rains, she isa performance ignored.The sharpest spinning circles hewn byancient giants, the moon pulls onthe melancholy, dreamer, and roundtowneralike.Steaming, beaming, constantly gleaming,moon is calling.Can you hear its roar?

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-34741645412753631012007-03-11T17:25:00.000-07:002007-03-11T17:27:35.790-07:00

When I close my eyes in darkness,I feel this weight."What do you seen?""How do you feel?"The night is cumbersome,counted out slowly. I havegathered my patienceanticipated your next moveand realized what is to come.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-42409021509552433862007-03-11T17:20:00.000-07:002007-03-11T17:28:13.188-07:00

She is flooded with softnessand softness can undo a man;break him to his barest partsor restore himto what he was once before.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-77751184950197019762007-03-11T16:34:00.000-07:002007-03-11T17:28:35.666-07:00

All I ask:to be hip-handedand locked in tight.One last danceto bring me throughlong, dark nights, a stringof memories to forget.One last 'I love you,'All I ask,heart-felt and whisper-sentto know I am stillwith you.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-2732410337545781092007-03-11T12:31:00.000-07:002007-03-11T16:00:47.883-07:00

Am I asking too much?I know...giant steps.I will give what I can.I will let you roam.I will give giant steps.Just give me a momentJust let me in.Just tell me what you need.Let me know if you cannot handleThese giant steps.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-58078060593320805952006-12-31T12:02:00.000-08:002006-12-31T12:03:25.791-08:00

Nothing as elegantas the swoon and swayof the wind-thrown feather’s flight.Every now and thenThat resilience keeps usWhen we feel like fallingout of the sky.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-47302094574565724832006-12-31T11:56:00.000-08:002006-12-31T12:04:17.280-08:00

Cuddled, popsicletoes stirring me from dream-to-dream: sleeping/waking.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-3766624379703353562006-12-31T11:54:00.000-08:002006-12-31T11:55:17.135-08:00

Sip in the mix of chaos and stillas false-winter dies in city streets,door open, door closed,Pick up the clutter of our lives again.Make a resolution, break a promiseIt`s been too long/too muchbut I ask for one more...neon blue, red, green moment with youand the electric flicker of the cityreminds me thatI’m still vibrating,forget to call, forget to smile,Scars too numerous to count,and too many

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-73254572955254355392006-12-31T11:43:00.000-08:002006-12-31T11:50:27.434-08:00

Relics rememberedafter spring cleaning and garage salesfinding useful places in a new houseor another sale.Ward and I take the tandem, a colossal weld ofTwo bikes into one, to scour the cityFor heroes: Roberto Clemente, Sandy Koufaxor Rod CarewPacked into shoeboxes, our heroesWait to be separated from the rest.We find ourselves one garage salePast curfew, returning home,Finding our way to Theo's

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-62658020245242338012006-12-31T11:38:00.000-08:002006-12-31T11:42:56.398-08:00

The lure of Cracker Jack prizes,Fouled ball souvenirs, or an autographFrom Number 9...brings me back.Crack – ball and batSmack – children popping beer cupsOn the stadium floor,Bringing me back to daysOf Charlie Hustle, Barry Bonds,or Darryl Strawberry.Those old round parks likeRiverfront or Three Rivers orSomeone’s backyardWith barn doors and clothes wiresand low-hanging apple trees,waiting to

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-30236333494933945702006-12-31T11:34:00.000-08:002007-03-11T18:09:15.856-07:00

I have prolonged the agonyOf sleep and failureEven when my pencil has abandoned me.Where are those words whichSpeak of your graces? I have searchedThrough written reminders and odd collectivesOf related excerpts. Nothing foundHow do I tell of tawny eyes staringAnd a silhouette polishedFor hours upon hours upon end?Or of kisses that line themselvesAlong my spine and soothe my fearsOr embraces that

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-86802997613135880902006-12-31T11:02:00.000-08:002007-03-11T16:06:21.962-07:00

Turn off the light,put the glasses and goblets awayAnd say good night.Familiar faces split into(sub)pairs and meander homeand now it's only us.Tonight, we'll return homeAnd collapse together.Time to put ourselves awayWorn out from the drunken buzzOf part-time friends and lovers,Worn out from the game.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-11262853814908698532006-12-31T10:26:00.000-08:002006-12-31T10:28:42.558-08:00

Your face, a perfect little circle,Made for the hand cradleand a midnight ramble of kissesall over your lips and chin andcheeks and forehead andlips again....but maybe I've saidtoo much.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-30061953393207313492006-12-31T10:24:00.000-08:002006-12-31T10:26:00.241-08:00

Angels walk with us but,we are deaf to their callings.Quiet sobriety when we whisperacross the top of the bar.Instead we ignore the bigthings in sake of the little thingsthat spark our fires,keep our dreams alive,and kindle our spirits.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-84764527172010663812006-12-31T10:21:00.000-08:002009-02-16T05:24:13.224-08:00

A sheet of clear glass: silence,Unable to break into - or out of,So I've scratched another emotionAnd I am saying hello (again)...hey...here I am......yeah, over here.Or maybe I'm saying somethinga little more cleverso you just might bea little more intrigued ora little more inclinedto remember my name.(...)

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-19011090093428485172006-12-31T10:20:00.000-08:002006-12-31T10:21:25.867-08:00

It is quietly comfortingWhen some foreign objectFits itself comfortablyInto wild new places.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-83760724785787365762006-12-31T10:16:00.000-08:002006-12-31T10:19:04.386-08:00

You cut through the roomTo present yourself,A scissor of motion -Served with won ton, hot teaAnd fried rice. Paper-thindisturbed, I swerve through small talkThen watch as you curve awayAnd skirt the clutter of tables.Each visit brings a gift untilYou bring the check,And I come to the lastpoint where I canKeep you near.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-68021426334986657212006-12-31T10:15:00.000-08:002006-12-31T10:16:48.649-08:00

In a sesne, it's her absenceThat defines the day.A lone aspect, eatingWithout her warm innocenceDrawing me nearerTo her.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-68864512005617736862006-12-31T10:12:00.000-08:002006-12-31T11:00:32.039-08:00

There you are again -A shimmer of silvery pinkLipstick and a singular smile,Ready to receiveAnother little love noteFrom me.And here I am - returning,To remind you thatYour smile smacks in my mind,Kisses me into emotion.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-7026862113309574362006-12-23T00:57:00.000-08:002006-12-23T02:44:55.524-08:00

Fingers of stone wait for passers-byto visit awhile.The lighthouse at Saint Paul's had agedbeyond its years, a beacon dead and buried,the stones holding it were letting go.I eased down to the shore on a gravel trailpulled the rowboat from grapevine and dodderand set it afloat. Slow. Steady. I fought wind and waves;working my way to the island.I drove it to shore, scratching into sandstonesThen

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-42342510030482138962006-12-23T00:56:00.001-08:002006-12-23T00:56:56.424-08:00

I TALKI WALKI LOOKI SEEI THINKI ACTI LIVEI BEI FALLI SLOWI DIEFOR THEE

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-41811842178974062872006-12-23T00:54:00.000-08:002006-12-23T00:55:51.722-08:00

I slit a sheetof cool combed cottonto throw over my headI slit a sheetto mask my identityand the fear of myselfI slit a sheetto go haunting. To burn down housesAnd churches.- To strike fear in hearts of niggersI slit a sheetof cool combed cotton.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-78975796604607731302006-12-23T00:53:00.000-08:002006-12-23T05:02:15.650-08:00

Wish on the momentwhen fountains spoutand foot-traffic orbits.A romantic trap, sparklingEach moment. A glimmerOf conversationSends us wondering.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-36279954770530116302006-12-23T00:52:00.000-08:002006-12-23T02:52:56.814-08:00

I bend and twist myeyes and cheeks and mouth and noseDistorting the silvered picture of meWanting to beAnything but who I am.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-11188213225074590382006-12-23T00:51:00.001-08:002006-12-23T00:51:52.683-08:00

You've been here before:The taste of lipstick, the smellOf hair spray, the touch of nylonAny of these will do.Let me drop intoA deep blue ocean,Dip in the shallowsPour into a living vesselThis certain necessityBreathing, seething, teemingI could drink oceans of your company,Drown with your presence,

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-60500062050851962122006-12-23T00:50:00.001-08:002006-12-23T00:50:56.795-08:00

We descendinto the cloak of nightand rise like perilous voyagersto the sea, feedingon jealousy, we walk the wire,confused by weakness.Let’s seek further shoresBecause I cannotbetray myself for the sake of youI cannot allude your shadow for hersand I cannot disable the past.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-44334699007471678302006-12-23T00:49:00.000-08:002006-12-23T00:50:08.950-08:00

I got a melancholy smile: it's you.I got a funny feelingabout this: it's you.I got a strange way of lookingat the world and I gota strange feeling we are doomedto be not close enoughto grasp: it's you.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-15603701467722868682006-12-23T00:48:00.000-08:002006-12-23T00:49:22.769-08:00

Boys play crazy cool with youIn the street, calling your name.But I know better,Waiting for right moment,Then when you least (most)Expect it, I willHold your handTouch your faceSteal your kiss.You know you have meCrazy cool.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-20709135540879297652006-12-23T00:47:00.000-08:002006-12-23T05:03:47.035-08:00

A knock at the family doorCome inAsk my sister for her handCome in come inStop and talkWith me for a whileCome inStand up, step throughCome in come inJoin what little warmthWe have to offerCome inShare embers of breath,glowing with anticipation.Come in come in.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-5232991700108253022006-12-23T00:46:00.001-08:002007-03-11T17:54:54.906-07:00

Forbidden by brown and gray,earliest light is in winter repose:awakened briefly, a wind-runner caughton a distant line, strayed to the horizon,stayed in the night.Restless like September's song,We live a ragged existence on the warmthOf forgotten failures and continued aspirations.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-13917176222596205182006-12-23T00:27:00.001-08:002006-12-23T00:27:33.732-08:00

She is some disgrace,laying there in my headacross my back,pressing into me.I remember every argument.The one after making love: "f-cking,"you told me. I lacked the passionor the talent of a real poet,how absurd, coming from an ex-loverwho hadn’t even cooled downafter getting up from my bed.I pick up the wine glasses,the dirty laundry,the poetry journal you brought and left,saying, "I don’t need

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-15108438858509243042006-12-23T00:24:00.001-08:002008-12-18T03:52:58.780-08:00

An Autumn sprinkleOf rust-red & golden-yellowAmong the black curlsLeft unattended. A not-so-naturalDeath. A question laid alone.A stranger taken into new consideration.Questions extinguishedIn the bonfires of light.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-89461232511267714742006-12-23T00:20:00.000-08:002006-12-23T00:23:13.254-08:00

As carefree kids we play,Fosbury-flopped on top of bedYou in Keds, me in tee shirt and faded jeans.Sunday Sun works its way betweenBlinds, curtains, and seams drawn shut.With tired squeaks, a wing nut seeksTo be replaced, here, in the shadow of the house.Sunlight pokes into cracks and corners;Between crevices, edging intoThe sprinkle of a rain-faded day.Belly-bound, but I've still found

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-26721450199150517612006-12-23T00:17:00.000-08:002006-12-23T00:18:18.734-08:00

Me and RandyMade like toy soldiersRunning through the orchard,Coming home from school.A raindrop, then a shower.Apples shatter on the ground,Popping open like smashing pumpkins;We split.Charlie and Alan were hiding.Apples at that tender ageWhere they explode on the groundBut still bruised a rib.Apples like grenadesCut through treetopsWe ran –Charlie and Alan were hiding.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-6374261507010831362006-12-23T00:15:00.000-08:002006-12-23T00:16:51.571-08:00

The pace of summer days is long-goneAnd we have to admire it from a distance.We (that being Randy and me)Came home from the parkTo find grandma at the cutting boardMaking big smaller, making good better.A tug at her apron stringsBrings the handout of Granny Smith,Cut into four summer moonsAnd we force-feed ourselvesUntil the last oneIs consumed.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-42754246232324405572006-12-23T00:11:00.000-08:002006-12-23T00:14:14.393-08:00

Long after sun has lengthenedIts shadow and we have thrownOn overcoats like old man winterHas with his snow, we feltThe juice trickle over our chins;One last bite into canned Spring.This is daydreaming by firelight.Mother’s workings at oven sideA taste of bubbledygook and dough oozers.December’s orchard waiting to bePicked from: fifteen canning jarsselected for the pie-makers.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-16125084564986550122006-12-22T23:59:00.001-08:002006-12-22T23:59:52.886-08:00

Society’s children smile,Zeroes added: nothing becomesSomething. Years from now,our laughter will disappearFrom these hallsAnd dreams will become memories.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-87932870106692694222006-12-22T23:41:00.001-08:002006-12-22T23:41:54.207-08:00

Could you be superman for a day?Or do you fear kryptonite and tall buildings?Could you be a bird or a plane coming into my crashing sky?Could you be superman for a day?Or is your cape worn from one too many heroic rescues?Tell me, what would make you feellike a superheroor even Mark McGwire for today?

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-81530103497999987822006-12-22T23:36:00.000-08:002006-12-22T23:38:17.278-08:00

The uncommon charades of certain urban girlsIn time-tested trades: Purple Plum lipstick andA black racer-back dress, the gentle gameLies in her allure.Distracted, I, watch her walk as I am carted awayBy mass transit, this bus where dirty old menSit beside me, unshaven and unbathedFor an undefined time.I imagine her flavor curling outIn some flowery perfumeOr the smell of cheap hair sprayAnd the

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-84013752032398813102006-12-22T23:34:00.001-08:002007-03-11T18:22:10.192-07:00

I snapped off into the woodswith JonIn search of...I looked for signs of life,beside the ones I already knew,I found...Jon kept the lead, knowing nothingEnough to guide us well.We wandered...The moonlight hardly lit the trailsWe ambled among the treesWe discovered...Jon held branches back longenough to spite me.He apologized...I gave him a stronger leadTo restore my faithHe understood...We walked

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-2534634715990219572006-12-22T23:32:00.000-08:002006-12-22T23:33:46.860-08:00

Can you recall the Grandview avenue walkor how I adore the city at night?- a stroll, a pause, a sit for coffee.Can you recall the cool coil of nightor the feel of the gentle fit?- a touch, a kiss, the intimate gift.Can you recall the kiss of my lipsor the feel of my hands over your back?- a caress, an emotion, a summer night.Can you recall the time I made you crywhen I walked out the door and

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-49174482324001239982006-12-22T23:28:00.001-08:002006-12-22T23:28:54.687-08:00

Under stuffings of board games,ice cream makers, and poster boardWe dig up the Tinker ToysAnd constructSkyscraper/Triceratops/Castle/PlanesEnds gnawed by nervous teeth.Jimmy-rigged, spare parts tuckedinto open holesConstructed,Left to admire for wandering eyesPieces run for refugebehind the couchWaiting for movers or spiders to find them.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-32087543821680023522006-12-22T23:24:00.000-08:002007-03-11T18:06:27.063-07:00

Kisses like pearlsmake wet circles along my backand ease precious pains.Sometimes the only consolationwhen the rest of the nighthas gone astray.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-44810882269195802212006-12-22T23:20:00.000-08:002006-12-22T23:23:32.669-08:00

A steady clacker: evening freight skimsa rail, balancing on one footthen the other, repeating the measureagain. A pole barn rides alongsideWe are there, on the roof’s edge.timing the train’s arrival,hopping Conrail.With a rough thudwe land the top of a boxcar,then skin the cat to get inside.Mike pulls out a Buck knifeand cuts into a bag: apples.He whittles it down and eats what's left.We roll a

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-73451076129551251992006-12-22T23:18:00.000-08:002006-12-22T23:20:00.813-08:00

Churning softly, wheels burn on pavement,Wet like yesterday: he wenttoo far, too fast.An exhausted flame,An acquaintance ripped out, a flashon evening news, a star in its fifteen minutes,Casual conversation, we spilled your nameLike we knew you better than we did.It played out wrong, droppedInto oblivion, even after you passed on.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-72587740393693135522006-12-22T23:13:00.000-08:002006-12-22T23:17:34.546-08:00

Cars and trucks dodgedSkillfully through the snowsnap,leaving jagged trails behind.Randy & Ryan &I waited on the cornerSometimes retreating to Randy's garage,catching what warmth we could.In time, we migratedT one bus stop,then another.Wrist watching for 8:15, hoping for a snow-day.A tired and cold trip home,never too much to launch snowballsfrom behind trucks and cars.In crystal white crossfire,

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-54724035712145759092006-12-22T23:11:00.000-08:002006-12-22T23:12:25.616-08:00

After we are most intimate,I realize it is too lateAnd I have sacrificed another egoFor the sake of mine.I hear you breathe my nameAnd I wonder why you feelit is necessary.Jump the hollow, skipthe fall. We will notbe seeing each other again.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-39234960908999998852006-12-22T23:07:00.000-08:002006-12-22T23:10:37.611-08:00

Autumn burns in goldenrod and sweet asterAfter the lazy haze of summer has fadedAnd we are none the wiser.Summer lifts her raspy coughAnd leaves dance from weaker boughs.It comes; we know our nocturnal danceAll too well.Pink and black clusters wait -Nobody bothers to rake them away,So I kick through them,Feet, socks, colder, wetter.Not enough time for busywork.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-91341887826531869292006-12-14T16:01:00.000-08:002006-12-14T16:02:58.043-08:00

Fires flicker, dreamsspark into of what, where, whowe dream. (awakened).

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-59288275741035085802006-12-14T15:52:00.000-08:002006-12-14T15:56:10.607-08:00

A firm handhold and a gentle breathsends me verilyUnto this dream.A vagabond castInto this modest conditiondancing with serpents, dispirited as I ammolded by the artist's touch.Take me to wishing well or picking treewalk with me through the barren wood, Lead meTo a gentle resting place.And I ask,Is it all I have to offer?I build a house to keep youAnd give you lamplightTo guide your path.I toil

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-26810679338778449082006-12-14T15:50:00.000-08:002006-12-14T15:51:46.809-08:00

The outskirts of this neon city,Wrapped in glowing suburbs, boundBy the desolate desert.We buzz about like fireflies litBy argon fires as tires churnOver the asphalt felt.Nevada winds tremble into being.A night dream,slow and surreal, fills our headsAs we drift aboutIn this patch of paradise.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-58883385370714712872006-12-14T15:44:00.000-08:002006-12-14T15:45:51.015-08:00

Lighten mine eyesI have seen alland encountered nonewith an equal grace.- I am lost in her allure.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-56844061247265169902006-12-14T15:38:00.000-08:002009-02-16T05:27:24.103-08:00

How would you feel ifI asked for your number,Kept your glance,Called you beautiful,Blew a kissOr gave youa poem?

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-61034794653795611002006-12-14T15:36:00.000-08:002006-12-14T15:37:45.435-08:00

I quit. I give up.I tell you I am done.Spent and spindledtorn and mutilatedwith trying to work things out.Dispensed with the swoon and swaleof heartache; doneWith the misery and Iam no poorer for it.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-9286683082864740642006-12-14T15:31:00.000-08:002007-03-11T17:52:26.473-07:00

Vivid green, bold palmswatch over sunlit rice pads,Bus buzzes us home.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-30576539041928257222006-12-14T15:26:00.000-08:002006-12-31T10:39:10.031-08:00

The aftermath of breakup:a toothbrush, a quilt, some borrowed clothes.An old shoebox for safe-keeping- one last trip home againClusters of habits I've inherited from youintimate knowledges of rituals performedin the company of one.Some sweet permanence has driftedInto our lives and I hear the questionsPress into my head - continued illusionsAfter we dabble in the dark art of love,Indelible marks

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-38055925540416621862006-12-14T15:22:00.000-08:002006-12-14T15:25:15.796-08:00

Like sad clownsRaindrops leave their markOn my windowsillAnd I just keep staringAt them.WonderingIf you are alright.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-69963062946857745132006-12-14T15:20:00.000-08:002006-12-14T15:21:34.862-08:00

Collections of passages, millionsOf scraps I’ve hoarded away.Expression comes slowWhen we are the main character.I hope you understand when IHit a dry spell, quit sending roses, can’t hold you,Ease your pains, miss a date,Or say the wrong thing.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-80998324871798571322006-12-14T15:04:00.000-08:002006-12-14T15:05:16.239-08:00

Muckymire licklollipops laughingSerenading at young agesLearning to love, kissing in closetPuppies toss on lawnsBoys fight and wonder whythe other side is not awakeOedipaedia magazines stuffed under mattresshair grow fear alone hornyFrolics in parked cars fumble fooling claspsToo dark guess work something in commonscreened fear lie die.I know even know now when she saysDon't hurt me.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-52374930049881572002006-12-14T15:01:00.000-08:002007-03-11T18:46:23.650-07:00

'Close your eyes,' I askAfter a bottle of pear wine is tippedand we are alone.'Don't cover them, just close them.'She cannot handle that sort of anticipation…I pull green grapes – frozenfrom the ice box downstairs..'Open your mouth,' I ask.Her tongue comes to the gentle flesh.She holds it in between her teeth,letting it meltSoaked in September's sweat, her nightdresscurves over her bare brown

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-41533561384674216132006-12-14T14:57:00.000-08:002006-12-14T15:00:05.214-08:00

Put on your graveclothes, the moon is full tonightdon't say a word, let's walk instead.Think about what it meansTo know you are still there.Chasing through shadowslike the stream to the river to the oceanoverwhelmed by who we are and are notTonight you think I am bottom-bound.Babble to me and fill the darknessWith feelings unshared, disparage all we've learnedabout each other along the

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-26398656444826965472006-12-14T14:54:00.000-08:002006-12-14T14:55:50.280-08:00

An emptied house still desires companyAnd the restir of associationsWhen a tenant is lostand a woman becomes a widow.The family fill softens hard remindersLike rocking chairs and curio cabinets.Lurking past dinnerOn the old porch landing, uncles and cousinsOffer the comfort of consolationand time-worn stories retoldAs foolish as we are,preferring that time stand still.But still we breathe.Losing

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-15517622405949535472006-12-14T14:50:00.000-08:002006-12-14T14:53:34.401-08:00

Dismantled, he adopteda new horizon, takento private exploitations; and chosen asylums.Still wanting a sort of reconciliation.Derailed: a train of thought.- breaks the tender threadsA man restrung, taken apartfor the sake of family, thinkinghe must be torn from what he once knew

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-50616441107454821482006-12-14T14:44:00.000-08:002006-12-14T14:49:43.493-08:00

Pale brown leaflets roostin fragile huddles, wrinkledOn brittle boughs, these tiny corpsesSlip from Hickory shelvesAnd die on earth's tired brow.Grieving refuse litters the crust.I look out my window and know it is timeTo pile these sorrows and store them away.I take up a rake and hand basketAnd scratch away at the cloak of leaves,Dead grass seems pleasantcompared to rotting, black leaves.The

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-85348508514708503702006-12-13T13:35:00.000-08:002006-12-13T13:41:50.036-08:00

At twilight it becomes clearHow quickly these short hours fade.The last luster of sunset ripplingUp the face of the hill in marmalade patches,Urging light on waiting trees.Senseless nerves find little significanceIn the eclipse of generations.Wind whispers over the watercapsWalking silently on the water,among the trees and away.Sun dips below the horizon's edgeAnd these days of lightLeave no

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-37349478813478664132006-12-13T13:34:00.000-08:002007-03-11T18:37:21.469-07:00

When January subsides, still resideswithin the confines of recent memoryI am twisted and torn betweenits solace and the warmth of the summer sun.She persists, exists, to rue meUndo me with her witting charmsBut winter winds interfere,catching a stray hair - pulling it out of placeShe tucks it safely behind her ear,Lost again but she continues with the fickle game.The invite of her smilereminds me

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-90205778700173686182006-12-13T13:32:00.000-08:002007-03-11T16:42:09.000-07:00

We share a common languagea brief touch – connectedby words.Nuances providethe affair, taken up - by friendsborrowed,bartered,beloved

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-78658573766535698282006-12-13T13:27:00.000-08:002006-12-13T13:30:46.238-08:00

We scope out this part of blue skyhunting for seashells and sand dollars,tracing footsteps we've left before,counting them by pairs.He casts a stone to the ocean.Swallowed whole, it is never heard from again.Another fling and the ocean answers in a hollow thud.we weave our way in between.Regurgitated sea swarms strewn along the beach,Collecting barren reminders of lives past.In these undiscovered

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-13346476839033152472006-12-13T13:25:00.000-08:002006-12-13T13:26:59.273-08:00

In my prayer box, I hold secretsWaiting to open my Pandora andlet skeletons play.In the eye of the storm,every sinner makes a covenant.Even when it's timeto run in rain and danceIn graveyards naked.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-79288661102313893782006-12-13T13:21:00.000-08:002006-12-14T00:07:12.759-08:00

Twenty years ago, maybe ten.Alive and awakenedThese walls, if they couldTalking. Walking. Seeing. Being.Grasped a finger. Learned to crawl.We cannot (k)now.They have gone awayWaiting for the twenty-fifth of DecemberTo let us in.Clutter-clean. Dust balls accumulateCouches, Beds, and DressersRooms otherwise emptyToo much noiseThese walls, showing usHeight chart, pencil-markederased with paint,still

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-48172651346168081902006-12-13T13:18:00.000-08:002006-12-13T13:20:45.080-08:00

Birds fly on- Through the sky.Soon they're gone- Erased from high.Eyes bereft- To see them fly.And we are left- To wonder why.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-50062758522360422632006-12-13T13:17:00.000-08:002006-12-13T13:18:34.114-08:00

An angel of strength, an angel of hope,An angel to pray, an angel to cope.These wild wired daysAnd fevered frenzied nightsLeave usA little more grayA little more whip-smart.We rise like impatient flames,To defy the day and define our lives.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-59316670516384849992006-12-13T13:14:00.000-08:002006-12-13T13:15:30.278-08:00

See waves churn, curlingblue-green, cees crashing inwardsinto em-ocean.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-80674735850703785772006-12-13T13:11:00.000-08:002006-12-13T13:14:03.271-08:00

Faded, distant, starkbuildings sitting quietlywaiting for daylight.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-53404413041505829992006-12-13T13:04:00.000-08:002006-12-13T13:07:29.854-08:00

Late & alone,we played gin rummy,Then strip poker.Two ashtrays and two wax-paper cups,half-full of half-finished sodaand half-used cigarettes.Two boys and two girls: we shuffledAnd dealt, shuffled and dealt,until all clothes were crumpledbeneath our feet. Skinny-dipped, a trial by fire,Wanderings: deep end, shallow end,Dive in, take a dip.I pressed against her awkwardly, pubescently,Learning the

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-62001551375852330672006-12-12T21:49:00.000-08:002007-03-11T18:23:24.461-07:00

A thief in night,Fall breaks in and stealsSummer currencies, trading themFor ice-capped diamondsOr autumn doubloons.Trespassing on our time, a colder touchholds us hostage for awhile.And with a changeOf season, fall swindles us again,Smuggles innocence,Escapes with youth,Leaves memories intact.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-87783982430339257412006-12-12T21:44:00.000-08:002006-12-12T21:46:55.729-08:00

My father stands in front of the sinkWith shaving brush topped in white.Paints his beard frosty, grabs a razor,And erases the marks of time.I ask for a tutorial. He dabs the brushThen paints my chin (and inside my nose)- - - Mintyalcohol burning.A lid from a hairspray canmakes an impromptu shaver,Cleaning my beard.careful not to make nicks or cuts.A towel finishes the rest.- - - tinglesmoothclean.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-84652892962539110772006-12-12T21:38:00.000-08:002007-10-26T08:32:52.089-07:00

Last leaf signals autumn's endHungry like neon nights or a lover in your past?September rain, rooftops stirred and drummingMoon larking, disturbed by autumn blast.Mystic enclaves link wife's tale to daughters dance,Deepened in waning light, the entangled role.Nervous nights prevail; Scars mark an endless fight,tattered and lonely is a bachelors soul.These winds, full of lust, wither, and false

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-92074488703574100362006-12-12T20:28:00.000-08:002006-12-12T20:34:50.508-08:00

"Hello Grandma,"- "Well, Hello Nicholas," she’d answeras if she was the only onewho knew how to say my name.This old goat-roper of a woman.Combine Ingredients with care:One part peanut butter fudge.One part Methodist Church bulletinsOne part midnight CanastaOne part clear plastic cups filled with tea(three teaspoons of sugar, please)Then add soda keys and felt-covered knick knacks:pencil

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-33217790806101433632006-12-12T20:23:00.000-08:002006-12-12T20:24:12.896-08:00

The drain of dayCuts into the figure of our lives,Concrete cold and still against our feet.A single digit suggests the frame,naked, advancing to circle center.Her robe drops loosely.Surrounding herWith No. 1 pencils, charcoalsAnd gum erasers popping into action.We sit in chairs, benches,Stools and half-poses, scrawledSilhouettes and curves.Sunlight gathers momentumWhen inspired, faltering

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-19573820902818298362006-12-12T20:18:00.000-08:002006-12-12T20:21:09.761-08:00

Drop a line home by scribble,Open the sliding doorAnd steal to the beach,Zagging over over broken shells, bottlesAnd wind-swayed fences.Tide-chasing-water-mongrels frolic low.Dancing along the shore as it drivesTo and fro – wind-wing Lord-Blessers,Chowder lingerers dig for dinner,Invading their privacy, but they will haveNo part of it. My wonderbagfulOf breadcrumbs waitsFor smarter birds

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-55823536538832885972006-12-12T20:15:00.000-08:002006-12-12T20:16:06.135-08:00

Twenty pesos each,roses for Eiselle, childrenflocking like pigeons.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-2109258837196555222006-12-12T20:09:00.000-08:002007-03-11T18:17:57.619-07:00

Climbing and burningIt tries to shake the shiver outClimbing and blinding,there's something it tries to say.Climbing and warmingwhispering small riddles.Climbing and drivingand climbing and remindingand climbing and burningand climbing and climbing andletting me figure outwhat I have been trying to deny.In time, even the warmth of sunlight fadesin spite of need. The quiet moment whenSun touches

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-18127524012337572032006-12-12T20:03:00.001-08:002006-12-12T20:03:38.219-08:00

Under the great cloudwe climb the tamarack slagbruising, curving,skyward: blue, hotWe kill the sun once againonly to retreat at daybreakto hidden alcovesmillions of milesaway and apart.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-67067993090146029172006-12-12T19:58:00.000-08:002006-12-12T20:01:14.284-08:00

In purple and black, paint the soundof wind and rain and quietly whisper my name.kick-to-kick-froDraw blue squares two, staying insideTo play Candyland. Gingerbread men waitFor rains to subsidekick-to-kick-fro.After noon passes and the day grows dark,We race our bikes, swerving over asphaltLaced with earthworm strands.kick-to-kick-fro.She settles into a seat, I push her higher and higher,she

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-49617500193942105782006-12-12T19:54:00.000-08:002006-12-12T19:57:40.857-08:00

Sometimes it is easier being someone elseor escaping anyway you can.But recreational drugs aren'tAlways godsends, because I know you pickedA funny way of loving me.I should have knownonly the stain would remainbut NOW I feel ugly in your presenceNow I see how damned I'd been,How crazy I was for thinkingYou saying my name made megod for a day.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-15053981322321905092006-12-12T19:53:00.000-08:002007-03-11T15:56:36.467-07:00

We smack - We flipWe twist and turnwe kiss and burnwe wait till wecan be somewhat alone.Couch, corner, wall.skin, hair, hips.This push,too smooth, to soothe.it's good, it’s badit's sweat, it's sweetand it's for keepsIt's oursthis hooch.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-23720422262091251952006-12-12T19:48:00.000-08:002006-12-12T19:50:46.395-08:00

Distant sirens, subtle reminders ofthe pain of hanging on sometimes.included extra-curriculars –there has to be a way out without letting goBurdened by personal plights,we respond to different intensitiesand sometimes we surrenderto little anxieties and we disappearfrom everyone including ourselves.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-75210390045647564892006-12-12T19:42:00.000-08:002006-12-31T10:32:07.840-08:00

Metallic spheresTwist through night in random linesSimilar – drawn – mappedTeflon cars – billboards – shopping carts(sub) urban tribal villagers on parade.Holophane trappings, colonists kept in orderWorkers put to task, queens serviced,Drones disposed with.Silicone surplus – digital kidsAnd the estimate of latchkey values,Split conveniently: pre-definied sub-groups.Pine cord aisles – segmented

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5249054201961824384.post-65883415784319890952006-12-09T17:38:00.000-08:002006-12-09T17:39:37.675-08:00

My voice speaksin completely average tones.I wish it could sing like bells or chimesAnd reassure your gentle heart.but it cannot. –It can only tell you thingsYou don’t want to hear, thingsIt should leave silent.So I pull the wind-catcherAnd let the chimes sing outBecause my voice speaksIn completely average tones.

Balthazar E.noreply@blogger.com0