Sleeping Where There Were

sleeping where there were

no stars, we all dreamed of them

anyway

and the light green rustling

overhead

was a music not

everyone could hear

in my dream I tread

on starlight by mistake

but light was never

wounded

or put out-

mary angela douglas 30 july 2008

Walking Straight Into The Fairytale Frame

walking straight into the fairytale frame

I collided with stars and

golden cobwebs

no one took me seriously

but I didn't care:

there was so much room there-

to breathe

mary angela douglas 8 july 2008

THE BEAUTY OF WHAT IS DIFFICULT

THE BEAUTY OF WHAT IS DIFFICULT

the beauty of what is difficult

flows far beyond our hands 

it bubbles in streams

where there are no fish

no container can contain it

you don't even wish for it

you wouldn't know what to call it

and wishes must have names

to be pinned like butterflies

in a landscape where even

the clouds can't move

oh but it's not on anyone's map

or payroll

but descends like some green dream

dead-center in midwinter

and you, you were so drear

or like snow when you

thought, "swelter"

swift and instantaneous

though you watched for it by

your sad windows long

centuries

unbidden by even

the quickest, dearest knowledge

eluding the heart to the point of

despair

then doubling back the

difficulty of what is beautiful,

the poem, among other things, unsaid.

walking backwards into your new

life you thought with trepidation brighter

and better than before than

any precarious, quicksilver, late-lamented

but do not lament or brace

yourself for really bad news

it's too diamond-flecked it's marigold undimmed

this, ever after forever will be

spliced on a reel

that we're not turning

just this beautiful

just this difficult

my friend

mary angela douglas 24 july 2008

On The Assassination Of Benazir Bhutto 12/27/07

here let us chronicle the

futile detonations

of the Rose

in every age, the same

who is standing guard

oh stand with me on this

bridge of air on the sharp blade

of a world-wide

intake of breath suspended

only don't look down-

take my hand

don't take my hand

it doesn't matter

in the country of Benazir

the heart of the Rose is

shattered again

the heart of the word

a golden script signed off on

mid-sentence

a math problem for the more astute;

how many armies would it take to defend her

and:

if such a heart could not be defended,

what are these garrisons for

let the stars collapse inward

to gather ebbing light

for the rose is broken

from the Stem we

occupied unbelievable space

as the shadows in your eyes darkened

prefiguring death

unbelievable space as

the heart of the Rose stood still

at close range

not at close range?

it doesn't matter when

even at a distance we

hear the ripped mantle of

weeping

as though it were in the next room

take my hand

do not take my hand

I would fall from this

bridge of air, alone

or lean into the wind from

the high tower of sorrow

to learn your radiance

let these frail

improvisations endure

the wide-world over

the soul is sovereign over

every terror

the soul that loves in the face

of death

blaze and blaze on

Benazir

mary angela douglas december 29-31, 2007 11:28 a.m. 12/31/07

I Stood Where There Was No Singing

I stood where there was no singing

breathing myself into the final

color of roses

I did not salute the emptiness

I lived where the first stroke of

the first letter of an alphabet

was only used to cut down

and I was cut down

but from that unfurnished crawl-space

I folded myself into

the unmired magnitude of stars-

mary angela douglas 16 july 2008

Me Quede Donde No Habia Canto

me quede donde no habia canto

respirando a mi mismo en el color

final de las rosas

y yo no salude al vacio

yo vivia en el primer golpe de

la primera letra de un alfabeto

solo se utilizo para reducir

y yo estaba cortado.

pero desde ese espacio de rastreo sin amueblar

yo me dobla en la magnitud de estrellas

no en el cieno.

mary angela douglas Spanish translation from original english july 16, 2011

Living An Exiled American Life

living an exiled American life

I carried gladly one spark

of the light of Heaven

tuning my remaindered harp

casting imperceptible music

into the void of all conversation

gaze in your own heart

Yeats said

the holy tree is growing there

and I say, softly

yet with resolution

even if they think your

ship in a bottle is going nowhere

one mere iridescence

floating from a quarter strand of

your unremaindered soul

matters more than an entire country

mary angela douglas 7 july 2008

I Built A Hedge

I built a hedge

between two countries

the one I had to live in,

the one I dreamed of

and then I found a way

to remain

in the second country

mary angela douglas 2 july 2008

My More Than Mothlike Heart Alights

my more than mothlike heart alights

dreading no candle

not even the sun's

light of very Light

you alone are

the touchstone

of all flight

we cannot guarantee anything

watching the floods take everything

except that we are Light's alone

even without second sight

even at sunset

mary angela douglas 16 july 2008

I Want a Poem Like A Faberge Egg

I want a poem like a faberge egg

crack open the mystical shell

to find

lilies emerging from pink enamel;

carriages with spiny

golden wheels

this fairyland of minutiae

jewel upon jewel, a dream enclosed-

under a heaven brought down to scale

infinite snow forever turning in

the mind's own music

and no assassinations

mary angela douglas 8 july 2008

Take My Last Sapphire Wish To Use On

take my last sapphire wish to use on

your best day.

I wished to be the light around your face

that cannot set-

the long wave returning

not the one that forgets-

the harbor filled above

sea-level dreams.

take my last emerald wish

to use on your worst day.

the ocean is infinite for a reason:

it mirrors our hearts

mary angela douglas march 2008