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ai li

d  e  w  -  o  n  -  l  i  n  e
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two

created, designed & edited
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by  ai  li

for the first magnolias
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out of still

                        a house
                        the color of snow
                        darkened windows

                        serving breakfast
                        in the emperor's clothes
                        no less

and here's something for free:

                        my mind
                        is there
                        waiting
                        and I know
                        this is
                        the closest
                        I can come

                        in the crystal ball
                        she sees us
                        a shoreline with broken shells
                        and we leave
                        no footprints

                        an old graveyard
                        in the wildlife preserve
                        no birds

                        as the days go by
                        I'm so sorry for the nights
                        spent sleeping

                        translucent teardrops
                        grace the cool pavement
                        tap dance a river

night falls and is slow to get up

                        dad's things
                        one knight missing
                        from the chess set

                        winter playground
                        the wind
                        louder than the children

                        Christmas lies
                        naked in the tree lot -
                        a friend's death:

                        the children we hear
                        in a deserted house
                        the children who were us

                        gingerbread man
                        biting the head off first
                        it's more humane

                        love
                        
                        a swingride through this fragment of time

                        ask me for my name
                        I just admire your lips
                        changing shape

                        winding up
                        the tin bluebird-
                        spring again

                        Family picnic

                        We encounter one another in the attic. Dust all around and a scant
                        sunlight through the wavery window. Faint sounds of laughter and the
                        chock of croquet balls. The heat stifling. Five summers now. Five
                        summers now and we've not been caught. How long will it go on?
                        How will it end?

                        rice again
                        long night
                        the widow
                        pairing chopsticks

                        a very good year
                        from today's point of view
                        raven's meaningless shadow

                        A dusting of snow--
                        the scent of buttermilk biscuits
                        fresh from the stove

                        a pink tongue -
                        passing over milky whiskers.

                        Under the Maple leaves,
                        her naked body
                        waits for wind.

                        A long way from home--
                        watching the crows take wing
                        as graves darken in the snow

                        lampshade footsteps

                       Empty cages, the year the zoo moved away. A man at the window
                       shelling peanuts. The sound of his wet street, a monkey's paw put
                       out with the trash. Typewriter and its long words begin his night.
                       Caffeine stirred by attic moonlight, ash finding a path out of the
                       ceramic urn.

                        homeless man-
                        making soup
                        from a snowman's nose

                        As twilight deepens
                        the pines fill with crows
                        a scent of distant wood smoke

                        Night without End

                        For seven years I all but lived in her. Then one day (after words)
                        she took her beautiful tits and left for the coast. Left me bereft.
                        That same night I dreamed of touching her and woke to a cold,
                        stained sheet. Of the dream I remember only her liquid velvet.

                        In the soap dish,
                        brittle and yellow
                        as bone; the windows
                        closed, only sunlight
                        comes and goes.

                        Those I never knew--
                        ice-bent elm limbs sway
                        through the cemetery moon

                        we hug
                        our bellies breathing together
                        as far as we go

                        Corpus Latino

                        Tango class. In glass shoes she traps the light. Chandelier
                         in evening dress, the chairs faux gold. This room out of barrio,
                         Christ warm on her cleavage. His big hands take her to distant shores,
                         fill the acreage of song. After, long after night's association, the
                         broken pearl earring lies punished.

                                                                               American Girl in Italy

                        My Roman armor
                        Big backpack and baseball cap
                        Shield me from their eyes

                        Don't think I don't know
                        how your hands feel.
                        I rested at the table
                        where you sat this afternoon.

                        in the open field
                        a single tree-
                        shepherd in the shade

                        i make a sign
                        in the air
                        scratching sky's blue

winter afternoon        all the haiku        frozen

                        Lonely
                        in my haste to nowhere
                        in particular -
                        a sidewalk robin
                        gives me the eye

                        light snow icing
                        the farmer's pond
                        a winter tea-cake.

                        remembering Jesus
                        I walk on a sea
                        of concrete

                        more clouds
                        but still the scent
                        of hyacinth

                        under my eyelids

                        black

                        against the blue
                        
                        of some sky

                        you lie under

                        
                       lying

                        the sound
                        of an envelope
                        being opened
                        in
                        your empty garden

                        LIBERATION

                        After all this time
                        only now -
                        finding the face
                        of my grandfather
                        behind the second
                        officer's shoulder

                        the prayer book
                        and a chocolate heart
                                                              your lost hour

                         I tasted your hair
                         as if dinner
                         was not enough

                        moonlight
                        frost covered
                        grapes

                        wind blows its way to
                        sea. deep in night.
                        alone

                        without you,

                        I breathe in

                        I breathe out

                        my scent of you

                        that did not leave

                        with you

                        Bare maples glisten with snow--
                        in their shadows
                        the ages of gravestones

                        An unexpected scene
                        after the end-titles
                        and me the only
                        person still sitting
                        in the auditorium.

                        Hard days

                        These are the hard days
                        like uncrackable nuts
                        break your teeth trying.

                        Faces turned heavenward
                        pitiful little satellites
                        transmitting intolerable Longing.

                        dressed
                        by the undertakers
                        a starched shirt
                        white
                        after violence

                        Our old table
                        and the place hasn't changed
                        a bit -
                        if it wasn't for the glint
                        of her diamond  .  .  .

                        traffic jams
                        black air.  hands move
                        in white

the boy I taught to read writes

twins
me and me

                        Lonely

                        A clock chimes, midnight,
                        Snow, the elusive king, falls
                        as I wait for you.

                        over
                        lapping
                        leaves

                        Looking at the stars
                        I have one thought
                        where I'm holding you
                        until they disappear.

Warm breeze        from somewhere to somewhere        tiny spider

                        sundial & shadow
                        the timing for love
                        in a quiet garden

                        I found you
                        while looking for a teaspoon

                        on dad's shoulders
                        to glimpse her passing
                        smile

                                                                             In Memory Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth
                                                                            The Queen Mother 1900 - 2002

Walls

Inside
cemetery walls
silence

Inside
cemetery walls
my silence

Inside
my silence
walls

inside
walls

                        late in life
                        a poem comes to her
                        in her mother's kitchen

                        alchemists

                        Awake to the beguiling beauty
                           of a bouquet of birds,  busy
                        rendering world song
                        -  uncanny alchemists.

                        beneath the tree,
                        white sheet -
                        green buds above;
                        the nib begins to
                        sing fresh ink.

in
swimming
pool
at
eye
level
bounce of a raindrop: Bikini Atoll
  

                        all night in the museum
                        Goddess of Mercy
                        sits in the dark

(Un)Forgotten Works

Long gone, trout in wolf's clothing
(Silent in shallows / howling at the moon)
Mellow eyes gaze still from dust-jackets

Let us share once more this fruit,
Taste and taste again, as life is tasted
In Watermelon Sugar, sweet and sad.

Later in the pine woods
The stream sings still:
All words are mirrors
Reflecting silence.

[for Richard Brautigan: 1935-1984]
    
    

                        they prepare the hall of kings
                        for her people

                         .  .  .  in ghost light
                         they come      mourners
                         through the centuries

                          in memoriam
                          her majesty queen elizabeth
                          the queen mother 1900 - 2002

                       Out of Mothballs

                       For the 4 -H fair                 freshly washed fleece

                       Last straggler           pulled by a V of geese

                       Non-stop       an albatross over open ocean

                       The moon looks down with an ivory face

                       Spring sale              the gentleman wraps milkglass

                       Autumn's end           digging deeper for the poems

                       Mud splatters on a calla lily                potter's field

                       Labor day               last chance for wearing white

                       Contractions               the woman continues to pick cotton

                       Mothballs in the closet                  tiny

                       </