The Image of You in a Garden

The image of you in a garden –
Your face concentrated as you work
I feel the true and pure intensity
Of love flowing from your hands
Into the soil, which absorbs this
So that our spring may benefit

I imagine your smell as you work –
A smell of dirt and sun and sweat
That as you wipe off your brow,
The stain on your sleeve speaks
Of this garden as your expression
For it is your gift to our spring

I’d sooner this scent of you than soap –
For it is the scent of your love
For all things that breath and grow
That you would nurture into life
And I cannot imagine you as other
Than this bringer of spring and love

– Sebastian


I am Orpheus

I am Orpheus.
I sang and followed my love to hell
and sang to Hades to let go
(My beloved Eurydice.)

And I was warned.
I was warned to not look back upon
the path from hell. But I did
And Hades pulled

and she was gone again.

(observations in a coffeeshop with halloween decorations)

(observations in a coffeeshop with halloween decorations)

women with
men’s haircuts
and men’s clothes
and big wristwatches

on the wall
laminated menu white fan
brown sugar
metal plate permit number

skulls and cobwebs
hanging from the ceiling

cobwebs cover
green and red
painted apples
on a decorative wooden tray
on the wall

christ risen with
disproportionate halo
in wood

a skull
beside a bull
beside red plastic tubes

my mouth is bitter

Love And Traffic

First Bus:
It’s noisy and it’s dusty
But you’ll figure it out
No signs, Not one,
How to get home.
But you wing it,
Smart one
Yes, so you read
The signs with hope
And soon enough
You’re sitting, relaxed
Streets roll along
Looking at the life of the street
It’s alive for you now,
And arrive

Then Car:
Get into the comfort
It exudes gas and power
Buckle and lean
And control
And hear her purr and
You’re stuck behind
An endless trail of
Red tail lights
First gearing along
Feet controlling
Struggling the death of the street
It’s fighting you now
And arrive

Now Love:
You control
Manipulate and shout
To get what you want
And think
“There! He’ll respond”
(Ha! Look where he’s gone
The bastard!)
And to find himself
He wanders off
And all that effort
Wasted on him
(The bastard)
But all he wanted
Was a chance to Laugh
And you arrive exhausted
So you let go
And allow the moments
To pass as they please
And they roll along
Less stress
And it holds you both
Without effort.

Said the Traveller to Himself

Assume the grief for now and
Tell yourself there’s a future
A moment there where time
Should stop. Allow yourself this
For there is a moment of hope
That no wind could blow away
Even should the world end.
Tell yourself this, the mirror speaks
And you should listen.
Said the traveler to himself.
— sebastian 2007