Pulsar, by Dah

Pulsar
by Dah

‘We can only be
as close as we can touch
until the Eye
stares, until the Eye
finds us, again’

I look through the grille
of bare trees
through the mineshafts
of shadows

then you say:
‘The Eye finds its way
when the sun sets its mouth
to earth’

I am motionless
like a broken shell

You continue:
‘I believe that
we are at the beginning and
in this deadly universe
we are nothing sacred nothing
more than matter caught
in a surge of light

Then you whisper:
‘You can make me happy
but it won’t change the way I feel’

I finish another night
without tears or repentance
without promises or sleep
watching stars traveling south
your black hair
bobbing and bending
like the weight of crows
on thin branches

your twin nipples glowing, expanding
pulsing, like dark radiation,
the morning-milk of kisses
flooding my mouth

Dah’s forthcoming fifth poetry book is due in late-spring 2018 from Transcendent Zero Press. His poems have been published in the US, UK, Ireland, Canada, China, Spain, Australia, Africa, Philippines and India. Dah is a Pushcart nominee and the lead editor of The Lounge (a poetry critique group).

https://dahlusion.wordpress.com/category/about-dah/

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Say This In A Whisper, by Dah

Say This In A Whisper
by Dah

Like an anxious bird I come
again to those days,
the pale winter’s
billowing winds

In this cold place, I ache for
the mingling of our lips
in this empty place
the only place left

Let me conjure you naked
o beautiful demon
to wet my thirst
o trembling flame

o rapture’s gift
lover, stimulus
you gave yourself to me
our bodies, goblets

filling, again, again
spilling over
a bloom, a fragrance,
petals falling

sweltering heat
rising, swimming
mouth to body
luscious inlets

O fragrant demon, paramour
nothing is left
but this aching current
this drowning in my sighs

Dah’s forthcoming fifth poetry book is due in late-spring 2018 from Transcendent Zero Press. His poems have been published in the US, UK, Ireland, Canada, China, Spain, Australia, Africa, Philippines and India. Dah is a Pushcart nominee and the lead editor of The Lounge (a poetry critique group).

https://dahlusion.wordpress.com/category/about-dah/

They Could Be Crows, by Dah

They Could Be Crows
by Dah

It’s when the voices start and
divide against one another with
outbursts of anger

returning, like hunters dragging
a dead boar
pretending to be heroes

the boar staining the dry earth
red with
its spirit leaking from

its heart
You ask:
‘How many voices will it take

before I’m defeated before
evil is The Enlightenment?’
It’s almost Autumn

this early chill jingles
like rappers beating words
into clever rhymes

Unraveled threads of rain loom
in the distance
voices muttering in despair

I answer:
‘Maybe it’s crows in the trees,
chattering, chattering

I clap my hands
the trees clear
the voices flying off

Dah’s forthcoming fifth poetry book is due in late-spring 2018 from Transcendent Zero Press. His poems have been published in the US, UK, Ireland, Canada, China, Spain, Australia, Africa, Philippines and India. Dah is a Pushcart nominee and the lead editor of The Lounge (a poetry critique group).

https://dahlusion.wordpress.com/category/about-dah/

Misdirection, by Dah

Misdirection
By Dah

Sometimes the gray sun
is like dry rain
other times an old bone

Sometimes there is a whisper
from the inner-ear, a drag
of words announcing a profusion
of discontent

There are times I wear sadness
like deep sleep
so rising into the day
creates a storm that places its mouth
over my ears
and blows cold wind
to produce a melodramatic silence

Some days I hold tightly
to the quiet that surrounds me
and listen to the dead
for they have much to say
about unfinished lives

Beneath the fog’s tarp
the moisture is a wet parachute
undulating in the air
and the light’s eye
has rolled back into its skull

Sometimes I ask out loud
What is the point?
but my thoughts are
discombobulated, misdirected

and I wait for a voice to answer
but there are so many
that I cannot separate them
yet, somebody inside knows who I am
and keeps laughing and laughing

Dah is the author of three books of poetry from Stillpoint Books. His fourth book, The Translator, will be published by Transcendent Zero Press in the summer of 2015. Dah lives in Berkeley, California, and is working on the manuscripts for his fifth and sixth poetry collections. He blogs at Words Of Dahlusion.

Small Bird, by Dah

Small Bird
By Dah

Snow scatters the ground

In a field of ice
a small bird’s frozen corpse

What else can be said about
a dead bird
I love you and I am sorry?

In this cold
hands are useless

In this cold
death’s precise exhale

Make a note of this on a yellow Post-it
stick it to a mirror

then look away

you are gone

Dah is the author of three books of poetry from Stillpoint Books. His fourth book, The Translator, will be published by Transcendent Zero Press in the summer of 2015. Dah lives in Berkeley, California, and is working on the manuscripts for his fifth and sixth poetry collections. He blogs at Words Of Dahlusion.

Chair, by Dah

Chair
By Dah

Sunlight swells into buildings
rolls over my feet
gets trapped under my soles
and at this moment
there is nothing more to say

When you rose to leave
your skirt
made the sound of a bird
caught in my hands

In the distance your silhouette
dark, then gray, then
birds landing on a statue
make the sound of your skirt leaving

Overhead a low jet noise
I say something
but cannot hear myself
and across the table
your chair
is the emptiness left behind

Dah is the author of three books of poetry from Stillpoint Books. His fourth book, The Translator, will be published by Transcendent Zero Press in the summer of 2015. Dah lives in Berkeley, California, and is working on the manuscripts for his fifth and sixth poetry collections. He blogs at Words Of Dahlusion.