Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Rainier’s blue outline / surreal in the yellow sky / sends me off with awe

Labels: , , ,

Monday, September 28, 2009

Whispered Dreams

Your breathing serenades
my whispered dreams,
rising and falling in the night.


Autumn Crescent

Curled up into the perfect arc
of an autumn moon,
love, soft and mellow.... read more

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Swamp Baller

Unhooked, some fish with ripped lips just truck upside down.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Winter's Gift

Winter’s haze
envelopes the visible
in a ghostly blur of
veiled solitude.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Post Modern Parking Meter

No Need To complain,
no need to get spastic.
Don't have any change?
Feed the meter...

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Children on the Playground

Shooting stars zipping around a plastic and metal solar system blue and green and yellow flushed with fiery exuberance...

Labels: , , , ,

Monday, September 21, 2009


Loose falls the night gown /

flower slip softly gathers /

silk pile on the shag

Labels: , , , ,

New York, '94

The doctor said Don’t trust people
who don’t smoke pot or listen to Dylan
don’t trust people who don’t like the beach
and don’t ever trust people
who say they don’t like dogs

and then he walked into the ocean
and just disappeared for awhile
well he found love in some guitarist’s apartment
in the end we find ourselves in our friends
while we crash in the waves together

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Wiccan Dipsplit

just when so many naked people are against me,

aigh need people naked against me, and thayr not.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009


Thirty thousand feet / in a flying tube of folks / on my way back home

Labels: , ,

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Near Neah Bay

Rude hewn branch ladder / climbing up the ancient tree / stairway to heaven

Labels: , , , ,

Friday, September 11, 2009



A bee


On the wall

Of my room,



Paper flowers.

I noticed this

And I cried.

First published in Flight of a Bee (Gazebo Books, 1978) Copyright Colin Gordon-Farleigh


Thursday, September 10, 2009

The Feather

The feather drifted slowly
from the soaring gull
to land on dirty water
at the midnight toll.

Labels: , , , ,

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

White Lion

Summer's end. Golden lions grow white with age-- They will wave their offspring away And wither to a roarless death

Labels: , , , ,

Sucking Beacon

...to be creatures who will eat through song for an invite to a place where space bends.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Old African Woman

Old African Woman

In the rear-view mirror I see you;

your silent reflection

slowly passing behind my car.

The time-worn bones of your body


bent, and slightly warped

by age and experience:

spine hunched, grotesquely,

neck pulled downward

by the dull-bright hanging

of the brass crucifix,

suspended by its heavy chain.

Constant mobility,


on your empty breasts,

sucked dry of their vitality

by endless, eager lips.

Your steady, shuffling gait

a vague reminder of your

distant, proud withdrawal.

From Fragments of Earth, published by Voice Publications, 2006. Copyright, Colin Gordon-Farleigh


Saturday, September 5, 2009

Speechless Love

Words will only steal the moment!
Please don't say them! They are trite!
Every love-song says 'I love you',
They're not new! Not shiny-bright!
If we two could have invented
Words of passion, ours alone,
I'd have revelled in your statement,
I'd have gloried in your tone.
But those words that surely flutter
Round your lips and beg for speech,
They're the words of other lovers,
All too easily in reach.
Please don't say them! You'll debase it,
This great happiness I feel,
Turn it into ho-hum language,
When the feeling is so real!
They are spattered over romance,
Like a pattern on a dress,
Meaningless when duplicated,
Just a pretty-pretty mess!
Men who're cheating on their spouses
Use those words to get their way;
One-night-standers, sugar-daddies
Always start things off that way!
So please don't say them, though you mean them!
They are not some precious prize!
All I need is that expression,
Shining, silent, from your eyes.


Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Winter’s Discontented

An early winter has descended
without warning,
bringing a constellation of icicles,
chilling and pointed,
that offer a crystalline pilgrimage
through the unforgiving night air
and point me toward the North Star.
(Winter's Discontented continues here)