Particular Moments

More Stars than There are

Tag: pain

Facing A Twilight Sky

Who placed this horrific Thorn
In my Bone and Flesh?!

Was it a Tough Teacher,
Who, through all harsh disciplining,
Still intends to Nourish—

Or, was it merely
An ill-wishing

Wise Shamans kindly remind Us
To not think only in what Lacks,

But We mortals remain too Hungry
For our own Sakes—

Wisdom passed on,
Yet scantily We digest.

Oh the Irony, baby.
Are we Rocks
In this Fountain of Life,

Wet, but never to have
Drunken a true Share?

If it is too hard
To stay Awake,
May I at last humbly ask
Of thee—

My Love, my Kin,
my Eternal Mate, whomever
I think You are—

Could You please contemplate,
Inconveniently, this corny and overused Notion,

“Have you ever seen the Rain?” 

Well, Have You?
Have you heard its Forthcoming,
And allowed its Simple Rumor

To have Stirred you
Deep inside?

Shall We Sit
Side by side, and Once More
Try to taste the Ocean
In this Raining Sky?

Carnivores in Love

they Consume and Devour,
with innocent eyes,
Tragically without hindsight.

Ruinous tracks
left behind, yet
they know not
What they do—

Alas, cared for and get by they will,
For those who Love them
love to Live,
to love, and
to Embrace suffer.

Living For that Afternoon Day

The Rain clouds
Had come down
And washed
The Dirt

It got cool,
Wet, and Gray
For a while,

The air anew;
Once more

A Revival Breeze.

Then the Sun
Peeked out,
And slowly
Brought the Sky

Back to day;

Late afternoon
Brilliance shone
Gentle yet luminous,
By the impossible,
Afterward caressing

Of the Rain.

In great pain,
I was Happy
To Live
That day.


One Empathizes

After great pain, a formal feeling comes–
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs;
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round–
A Wooden way
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought,
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone–

This is the Hour of Lead–
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons recollect the Snow–
First–Chill–then Stupor, then the letting go.

After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes, Emily Dickinson.



A Rainy Walk in Late October


In the dampened
Mess of things,
You shall see
Once more
In Clarity,

Able to shake
A few
Mulish monkeys
Off your bag—

On a day like this,
Crave not to
Wish not to

Make yourself
as Cruel as
You can be—
Hard wires
To your being.

Walk out
During this Storm,
For no one
Fragile tears
Or hears
Sorry weeps

In a Sea
Of razor-sharp

Let the broken
Seek refuge
In the tremulous,

For its Deluge
Equally wets
Justly absolves
Bitter ache.

Bring Me The Truth

Bring me the Truth,


Like naked bones

Of the Dead—



Foul and ghastly, but

In time

Factual and harmless.



Toss and Slam and Shove

The Truth

To me,

Blinding and caustic

It might

Presently be,


But spared I will be

From eternal



Invoked by the

Fleeting, empty smile

And the briefly comforting


You wear

And tell

So well.

The Sunshine Missing

Wishing to get clean

Once again,

I stand in the shower—


Looking at

Countless droplets

Sliding down

My wax-like skin ,


I wondered


Would they really,

Grazing swiftly past,

With them carry

My Filth away?


Wishing to Rewind

Back to the Swell Ways,

Yet all I want

Is to Forget;


Craving to be Saved,

But I know Sunshine




Serious Pang


It’s like someone 

Took a knife, baby,


Edgy and Dull,


And cut

A Six-Inch Valley

Through the middle 

Of my Soul.”



—I’m On Fire, Bruce Springsteen.