after i posted that last bit of ancient hieroglyphics, a friend wondered if i had more published elsewhere. i did self-publish a collection of 333 poems back in 1993 (yes, 333, because i’m only half evil, and because that number was exactly 1/3 of what i started with). i haven’t made an assessment in these later days as to my editing skills at the time, but theoretically, the sabre, as i titled that collection, represented what i felt were my “best” works. and occasionally, when i read back through them, i am not displeased. although quite often, i am so far removed now from those sentiments and the emotions which brought them into being, that it seems like i’m reading the works of someone else. especially the really long ones.

anyway, i’m contemplating making this a weekly “feature”, but i want to keep it relevant to current events, if at all possible. so, to kick off your monday’s “fix of dawnne”, here is something i wrote on my birthday 1990 while in Saudi Arabia during Operation Desert Shield.

windless

The wind shuffles its feet like an old man waiting to die,
. . . and in the passing of an hour,
I came to know the emptiness of that moment.
And still, only one thing remains truly clear:
I shall remember you . . .
. . . and your memory shall light my way
like the peace of the forgetfulness of slumber.
And now the wind lies on its back like a young man already dead,
. . . and like I never thought it could,
it burns me with a coldness that leaves me void of words.
So, I say this one thing with all the fear that I have:
“Goodbye.” —
for I know not what, in truth, it means,
or what it promises . . .
. . . to then become.

~ near An’-Nu’Ayriyah, Saudi Arabia, November 2, 1990
Copyright © 1990, 1993