Poems Range From Several Years Back To Present Day

Some are untitled, and the titles of other poems are merely the first line itself. Poetry is subjective, so if you send e-mail, be nice.

Like horses, like stars


like horses, like stars,

lyrical wasteland, your hands in my heart,

the curve of time, a dance sublime, a taste of the dust of space, cosmic salt shines in vast pepper mines

(wisps of galactic brine twists as skirts ‘round dancers...)

this pressure in my ears, it is the passing of the years,

this pain within my forehead, was i coming to or going from the spinning in my bed?

the manner in which sweat slips from your chin, fluid consciousness

when she cries i'm pierced by a light,

unravelling...

12-14 February 1992
©1998 Michael Wade Bailey


a musing susan

a musing susan gathered each of my attentions and kindled them with laughter,

danced, dressed in the sheen of energy which such inspiration imparts,

danced round the circles of my logic,

the rings which bear reality, rings which hold all time from but imploding (scoring silenced millions in sheets of seconds, split seconds...)

this she did before the demographic stain of television grey, unjeweled, naked...a glass of juice in her hand

velvet feet, hair as fall's vintage orange, a crooked smile that hooks the eye, and eyes to still a smile

princess disposition, flesh unbeknownst to revolution, she walks the sun across the sky and charms the moon to stead the night,

the evenings are hers—

as hourglass guardians march each moment underfoot,

as cherubs and children offer drawings of horses, and lovers, and knights glowing in taverns—

yes, the evenings are hers

©1992 Michael Wade Bailey


"A Musing Susan" published in Stir magazine,
University Of Missouri (Columbia).



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This Page Revised 27.6.98.