'like unto like'
but do not say it
my forbidden simile
Photo of War - 1
no milk for her
child the nipple
droops a sad
thing while dogs
run wildly about
Photo of War - 2
Geese tell of return
the burning village
counts its embers
measured in hands
Photo of War - 3
there are treaties
generals
prisoners and
gilded boxes
exchanged
then the
Mongol spices
Photo of War - 4
boys
muddy feet
cheer
chase behind
battalions
innocent fists
raising threat
for them
such regrettable
punctuation
Photo of War - 5
Hold Fast
the greatest
among us
he knows
only war which
makes him great
in one thing
alone
I know
of waiting
what the horizon
safe keeps behind
its ear
of love, yes
Photo of War - 6
your top knot my hand
unknotting
your long hair my
scented bedding
sudden
startled
wildness of laps
in the vase
so very
still
a clutch of stamens
arrival at last -
the fallen petal
of your navel
Photo of War - 7
Dream again
of moonlight
of sewing
that work of warriors -
needling of seams
I know the pattern well
so near to hand
a blessing
let the dead bury
theirs
Photo of War - 8
his face
sleeps upon my
belly
I do not breathe
do not wish to disturb
Dawn just
light fingers
trace in circles
each
breast
what tickles
but a sigh interrupted
Photo of War - 9
In your dream
a gentle
boat slowly rises
with waves
the gentler subsiding
slides up
my torso
to keel
to kiss
to vow
never again to go to war
Photo of War - 10
liar
already
the men are heavily gathering
new arrows hot for flesh
only for yours I am
Photo of War - 11
captured
fortressed
a better world
between the teeth
on tips of tongues
on lip perimeters
strung by kisses
Photo of War - 12
hunger
paper curtains
for ink yearn
their brush strokes
burning stories
to bear
a fly
strolls a realm
just on the other
side of light
only silhouettes
guesses too
thrills at motion so
slight framed in
window gray
slackening skin
the better
when simple
loves caress
in love with
small things
keep what
is seen where
hides the wind
Photo of War - 13
only this
to take a quiet supper
to hear the dipper spilling
too full
the deep well
yielding
knowing a hand of dew
brings such sweetness wet, cool
wet
From childhood our song:
Hurry awake sleepy bee
Softly sings the breeze
To sweetness we are called
when the sun high shall be
freshened with tears our parting
Photo of War - The Last Entry
behind the barred door wait
a lock of wound hair
silk pouch of my gated heart
it will be a hard arrow to pierce it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem