73114

1.
a tear cannot
be repaired
if needle
rejects thread

2.
when
airbrushing out
flaws
in their big picture
they opt
to blind
a questioning few
caught
in the overspray

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead

72914

leapfrogging morality
in a rush
to open the cage door
setting loose,
another migratory legend
of righteousness
the beast,
strong now,
will naturally
starve
its howls of glory
overtaken by
newborn hymns of dissent
and the approaching
rattling of keys

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead

the visit

he recalled how she came
through the barrier
when no one else would

just to see him
at the end of his vigil –
waiting for fires to go out

his slow voice
so low
a listener had to
meditate on each word

he said she had not
aged, said
she held an onyx teardrop

in one hand
a lapis eye in the other
that was

all she had to offer
as an answer to a question
he was afraid to ask
years ago

he recalled
how she came through
the barrier

when no one else
took the time

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead

72314

all of this
may only be
a struggle to define
what happens
in that
space between
two people
locked in
the effect
of a
gaze

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead

thread gatherer

her, lost in
mulberry dance
trips no toe to a
lark working through

familiar passages,
rising off the minor,
a beat added
to push the theme

of her fingers
manipulating air

a thread gatherer

unspun
silk for
unbuilt loom

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead

anniversary

I thought I caught
a glimpse

faint, a
sliver of moonlight
on feathers edge

familiar laugh
winging toward
the horizon

final note
of a year long
rhapsody

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead

limit

the way I see it,
the obsession
of going until
exhaustion takes
over is just
a convenient form
of risk compensation

considering
every added task
as another
fistful of down
for the pillow

testing the heights
from which
I can fall

crashing hard through
the dream stage,
confining confusion
to one world
at a time

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead

71014

sent into
this
nest of silence
a
chest of voices
under my care
I fear
unprepared
to relinquish
the only key

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead

testament

still
in the skeleton
building stage
framework, support,
shell –
any arbitrary
definition will do
I do work slow
and will flesh IT out later
IT being whatever
I claim as testament

I’ve dragged
this work
between dimensions
shouldered it
from one life to the next
I’ve pillowed my head
with it
sleeping beneath stars
of other galaxies
sat staring at it, perplexed,
for eons

then,
as always, I build –
sacred geometry guiding
my hand as I insert
another rib
or fix another joint
just as ancient intuition
will when
time comes to apply
the first layers
of clay

its surface etched
with
my interpretations –
to be
made permanent by
distant suns

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead

70514

decades –
wound
nearly scar
now
not so tender
to touch
when some
trigger
moves my finger to
trace it’s contour
conjuring questions
of a twin

(c) 2014 Fred Whitehead