ORIGAMI HEARTS

Clean, new, flat paper lacks substance, yet has potential…

Cut it, crease it, fold it,
Damage it microscopically
Damage it irreparably
Make it three-dimensional and sensational
Give it shape, a shape you can name
Call it a crane.

It can never quite go back
To being quite so neat or quite so flat
But now, at least, it has a story.

And they say if you make
Just 999 more of these beautiful,
Damaged little stories
That your wish,
Your dearest wish
Will come true,

…just…

…like that.

DRUM

So we trapped your voice down under my skin,
That electric sound prickling all that I travel in.
Cool scarves, eyes of silk, and the crystal sea,
How should I? Escape what all has infected me,
Your name, your voice, your tears? I have cried.
My name, my voice, my thoughts? (How you lied!)
So I hear your voice, trapped under my skin,
And I rip off my flesh to begin again.

HUSH

(WALKING AROUND CAMPUS)

There are secrets here
In this open room
Framed by life and air.

And dancers, poised,
Slow,
Gnarled and graceful
Listen to the gossip
Of the breeze
And all those traveling
Through it,
Alarmed,
Fluttering and scandalous.

There are secrets here,
My secrets, lost
In the rush and hush of green,
In frames of wood and bone,
Your secrets,
In the gaze of brick, steel, and glass,
Our secrets,
In this open room
Framed by life and air.

FATE

This is how it will all go down:

Lighting strikes, possessive,
Claiming the muscle and bone for its own.

Subtle fire prickles across the skin,
Proudly proclaiming mortality
To all with a mind to hear.

Earthquakes render tendons to mush and
Floods beckon, drowning all in froth and mud.

And then, when all is said and done
Mankind will take your bones to the kiln,
Forge fragile pots and cups which crumble
Into ashes and dust, caught by the wind.

Carried off at dusk.

And this is how it will all go down:

You will become

the lightning
the fire
the earth
the waters

And you will become the dish on which
I eat my birds and bread.

BEAUTIFUL FLAME

Someone struck a match
And you were born
Invention’s quite a catch
From nature’s combustion torn

Oh, Beautiful Flame, so-to-speak
On sight candles go weak
At the knees, level the forest
The hearth warm, and you never rest

Mesmerized by the toy
No one glows as brightly
Terrified to destroy
None devours as fiercely

Near you I’m hot, but learn
Touch you and I burn
Unkempt combustion is thrown
Give me a torch of my own!

Beautiful Flame, this isn’t a game