1. tiny striking cold streams



    from fingertips

    pregnant round
    riddles inside
    riddles side

    tiny fairy
    curled abound
    a lima bean umbilical

    cross section
    sliced of life

    the comic relief
    of commercial
    cartoon characters
    like whiskey hard drinks
    and fried chicken legs
    distinctive in silhouette

    more sinister
    than metaphor
    braided symbols
    in rivulet


  2. faintly waking calls

    I don’t believe we choose our friends
    If I was afraid of your crying I would never come

    walls are required to survive
    and life is hardly everything barely anything
    in comparison

    the spirit tramps ahead
    dancing the pavement
    into the road of existence


    ending to begin again
    ending end to end
    to begin ending

    enjoy the forest
    it rises to the conversation

    listen for the whispers

    in my dying’s

    i promise

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  3. danger

    denying the reality of fences
    i turn face to the harsh wilderness
    driven sun burning feet walked about

    food locked in agriculture
    ideas locked in alphabets
    souls locked in markets
    death locked in governments
    religion tradition rules

    the string of the balloon
    slipped the fist loose

    fear tore love
    gurgling wet
    from the guts
    of the beast

    i deny the existence of fences
    designed to contain fear

    set my face harsh
    wild unnamed
    into love

    so i am

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  4. {turning the essence and surface}

    repetition being
    a kind of change

    a land woven
    lines a loom
    sunshine on blue sky
    strings in a cloud frame
    whites to shimmering grays
    smooth gravelly

    rich dark brown swaths striped
    in black soaked wet dirt clumps
    clumped in piled up rows
    earth turned over from sleep
    rolled parallel one after another
    then young blistering green
    edged road grass

    next stripe silver shoulder
    glowing bone reflector strip
    followed by orange caution yellow
    neon solid to mark the lane
    the black car on the road
    mustard colored slashes dot
    dotted center now past next
    now past next now past next

    being a kind
    of change

    for another gray lane
    white shine pebble border
    wide stunning grassy swirls
    the black earth tattooed
    in draining water grooves
    etched ditches in planet

    reaching to more sky blue sky
    clouds puff on a sky blue sky
    cloud swipe swaths across
    the expanse the vehicle
    travels swift glide down
    the center of the wide 
    shiny day

    long strands of hair fly wild
    out the windows blown
    with a tune on a stereo
    loud on repeat over and over
    and over perfect weather
    to fly elbows out
    down a spring road
    looming and weaving

    being a
    kind of

    repetition being
    repetition being
    repetition being
    a kind of change
    in looming weaving

    where i sense
    i have spent time
    with you undetected
    and unremembered
    of that i am certain i am

    only in dreams

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  5. no-one steps into the labyrinth
    in order to make a quick get away

    no-one denies a coincidence 
    unless they have secretly segued 

    no-one gets out of a living minute
    no matter how talented they may be

    when you were sitting across the surface
    but looking in the opposite direction
    i experienced the communication
    in your pattern of breathing
    the way your chest moved
    said things without words
    i won’t cheapen further

    the pat on the back
    was a spontaneous
    reaction to the unexpected
    second hand laid upon
    the top of yours
    from nowhere meaningful
    nowhere measured
    just happened

    without even coincidence
    to show for it

    no-one will ever know how much or
    if it was reciprocal least wise

    neither you nor i


  6. bucked

    the bridge of the song
    spans the twist in the mobius strip

    likely are we
    to topple off

    the ship is not made by man
    organic vessel

    leafy cupped hand loose
    wet amrit shine

    to the light to move
    along the river

    until it takes
    on water

    into the one
    paregoric dream

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  7. center diameter circumference

    tied k(not) in the middle but to the end
    we are forever tethered to our wits
    funeral and grave dance

    it may not be a knot
    but there is something
    in the middle between
    blowing it all up and opting
    out altogether

    the jester lives at court
    after all the sounds
    i could teach
    you to make

    imagine the goat
    caper and corn
    finding her tether

    at rope’s end
    where else
    of course

    i think it is impossible
    to waste a sunset

    in all the languages
    which will you regret
    not having spoken in

    a sleight of a word
    at hand so much more
    than images

    the genius
    at work
    gets less vacation days
    than the pure
    and stupid

    life is a memory of us
    welcome home

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  8. and when you sense the time
    of your own dying
    switch languages
    speak in touch


  9. our quiet

    emotional memory
    feels your hand
    introducing me
    to my own

    suggest i speak
    with myself amid
    patient listening

    filled with distilled
    internal cogitation

    before pouring

    without knowing
    i dreamed

    my first words
    in silence

    finding invisible
    voice inside

    your mouth
    upon mine

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  10. time tells

    of all the things
    i have managed
    not to get attached to
    you alone


  11. specifically

    parts of the world
    i can only see
    when i love you


  12. babel

    at the cocktail mixer
    for the translators
    who chooses
    which language
    they speak

    which tongue
    will you keep
    in my cheek

    what shape
    what texture
    the words

    what conversation
    do we interpret

    when we run
    our fingers
    across the letters

    will they meet
    in the center

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  13. i am a swollen bellyful
    aching hope
    embossed in links
    spine neat on the surface
    decorative and tangled
    hidden insides
    danced tentacles scrambling
    climb cords
    pulled and hung
    through holes draped
    along the base of my neck
    a curved shower curtain
    haunted with beads

    my chest a fountain
    brims with too much

    spilling over
    water runs

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  14. dear universe et al
    cosmic co-conspirators
    having received my four a.m.
    wake up call
    this letter is meant to inform you
    there is nothing even penciled in
    on my official schedule
    at this hour


  15. alone

    there is coming into your own human
    there is the deep sensuality of cat fur
    there is lathering your naked limbs and torso with soap
    in the pouring rain

    there is the wound of humanity
    and the wish to be unique
    and the truth of it at any rate
    of exchange

    there are dreams
    there are responsibilities
    there are touches

    there are the maimed
    held careful in trembling hands
    specialness fingered well
    made real