The elephant ears are ready to listen,
unrolling more each day to bird’s insistent call.
The grapes promise they will come
once the rain is dried off in summer’s slow warmth.
Again my garden grows.
Poppies give way to day lilies and then
a profusion of blossoms less exclusive.
Busy insects mark off the seconds of their short life
in singing.
I have lasted through many resurrections
and many dyings of the seasons.
At night when the garden closes down
stars prevail on high, reminding me that light displaced
will find us out even in the quiet of our slumber.

I thought I knew the (b)order(s)
the same routine each day
& then you came
a metal rod
in the heart of
this illusion
you brought the
deadly mechanism
to a stop
your atonality
is so seductive-
like schoenberg
or matisse
you despise the fake
harmony of life- you-
the disruptor of (b)order(s)
I hope you’re
more sane than hoelderlin
friendlier than sartre
but I guess it doesn’t matter
there are no borders
left to fight
you’re already in my heart.

This is poetry in motion
This is vixen at her best
Consuming me
Making me her own
Owning my density
Ripping away my masks
Exposing me to her cravings
And devouring me whole

The finest day of spring
Petals dance on sudden gales
Counting everyone
Before the sinking sun
Fly, fly little wings
Like love that never fails

Shadows begin to wake
To a chorus that is the night
Crickets fiddle, slow
Warblers whistle, low
Shine, shine velvet moon
Till last you fade from sight

Hear the sea in song
Where the swallows play and die
Starlight in the haze
Flicker fireflies, ablaze
Stay, stay gentle dream
Beneath the candles in the sky

No questions asked, no what no why,
Rushing by no time to cry,
No care to share, or why or where,
Too complicated, to be there,
A hurried yes to keep the peace,
Longing to be the one deceased,
Not knowing how to spend the time,
Is this real? Am I fine?!
Even so, nowhere to go,
You may not see them, they’re alone,
And even if the time did come,
You sit alone just feeling numb,
Shaking hands, a quick heartbeat,
Buzzing mind, hot, feeling weak,
Impulsive thoughts not carried through,
Don’t understand, can’t think of you,
Hysterical minds pushed away,
Will deal with it another day,
It doesn’t leave it stays right there,
Hidden in darkness it’s own lair,
Forced smiles and laughs so weak,
Can’t see forward all is bleak,
Pretending all is good and well,
That you’re fine l, it’s locked in hell,
Daily business, auto mode,
Getting by, all talk in code,
A living demon locked within,
Glazed over by the thoughts of sin,
A happy soul, once again?
No quick heartbeat, no impulse pain,
All laughter, hugs and smiles so sweet,
No more tears or curled up feet,
Day to day work is done,
Telling everyone that you have won,
But secretary you die inside,
Tears fall down it’s all a lie.

First came Spring—
All rose-red and morning glory!
And then a mild Winter.

But the frost of futility could not reach
The River that sustains us.

And now, my dear,
At the end of the story—
I anticipate those Summer years to come:

When we turn gold like wheat
Ripe for the harvest.

There is no need to fear the farmer of us all.

For I am told that love never dies…
It just grows older and hides
On the other side of Fall.

More at http://about.me/dklawitter.

We both talk
and chew gum
but not necessarily
at the same time
because while I am
coordinating my legwork
and my schedule for the
day or week
you are juggling family
friendship and career
in your attempt
to have it all
and eat soufflé too
then we manage to
connect in the
physical realm
nocturnally
that is
which in turn
overwhelms our
senses and overloads
our dreams which
require
a shot of
caffeinated sobriety
in the morning
when again we
both part ways
and join the rush
hour by hour
patiently waiting
to pool our resources
together again
and synchronize
our mostly shallow
swim through
each other’s
Olympic sized
chlorinated
consciousness