all that jazz

(for Michael Harper)

falling like the rain goes
landing on a needle's point
as the sun strays behind
     a rainbow moon
grandiloquent jazz beaten blue
echoing hughes in its resonance
angry arrangements
     harmonious beat of
     enigma and intention
is this what drew allen, jack and bill
     to the bars of the wild neon night
     drunk on port
     high on green apples and benny tubes
mexican fresco
     painted on a cracked wall
     carelessly spattered with tar
a ragtime rhythm
sweet from the alto sax
sinks like liquid lead
in the ocean of cacophony

~ dwmetz, 1994


where are the feast of friends
dispersed across the earth
like lung blown dandelions
london, paris, linden and roselle
where is the church bell tolling
to call the demon saints together
where are the days of youth and innocence
bottled beer and railroad tracks
first date at mcdonalds mother driving
training wheels and rubber masks
bloodied in the pavement crash
arcane rites to summon demons
dice tossed deciding death
military dreams stunted by frail heart
the romance of tragedy
basement boiler room razor blades
catholic school tie tourniquet
a dare a chance to end it
cyclical sorrows interrupted by mirth
time passing like loved ones old
the seeds were dark from the start

~dwmetz, 3 november 1994

poem while dying

gasping for breath,
i still insist on maledictions.
i stare death in the face
and she laughs at my audacity,
calls me a brazen fool
and brushes me away with a
silk dressed thigh.

~dwmetz april 1995


waiting tides

while the tide divides
and night bleeds to your dawn,
within that dreaded silence
i cannot help but look upon
to reminisce in moments shared
and words between exchanged;
linger in your photograph,
sigh deep to breathe you in.
try not to mourn the empty past
where arms could not have been,
the ache is almost over,
our future i have seen.
the beach is near within our reach
in hand to walk along,
with orchestra of stars alight
mesmerizing oceans song.
to walk beside til end of night
and when the sun does rise,
waiting there at end of time
to hold you by my side.


going home

the last time in, 
i was already out, 
returned for 
odds and ends;
room to room 
a ghost i walked, 
ill not knowing, 
where fate was going,
shedding tears 
for each bit taken.
left behind 
the golden ring, 
on hand an 
empty space;
absconding with 
a book of poems, 
and memory 
of friendship's face.
the absinthe dream, 
of love it seemed, 
would sleep 
another night.