Leslie Philibert Poems

she swings her hips
and waves with the
back of her hand
and doesn`t look back
...

flows as soft oil
trees newly dead

beneath a consciousness
...

Lost in Times Square he notes
That the heavens are looking down

His eyes too dry to be wide
...

through glass; half shadows
a vomity parade of green
the anarchy of growth
thick as chlorophyll
...

magic or wood or lost in light
inside of heaven, silver-struck
to press against dry lips
hands sanded with night air
...

As if the silence is frozen
And the first houses at far
Have lost their voices
...

a frame cold-sprayed with
perfect tranquility; the world
and the bell in perfect harmony,
a flock of wheels that join and
...

honking and grunting from
the gutbucket of hell,
angry as a burning parrot,
crazy as ju-ju. mad as
...

(Das Land ist licht und dunkel ist die Laube - Rilke)

The land is light, but dark the arbour
Your face broken with hair, your hands
...

My poem has fallen off the page
Now sitting stupidly with a big dodo smile
Now sinking at waving at salty feet.
...