Sunday, December 29, 2013


She slowly circles
the tip of her finger
in his still waters

the ripples spread
to pleasant shores

©Eusebeia Philos 2013


Raise your eyes
look again


the sky remains
where it's
always been

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Her Soul

Her soul

beats to

the rhythm

of a million

tiny suns

bouncing off

ocean blue


©Eusebeia Philos 2013



was found

in the brake lights

of an idea

that was accelerating

before it knew

where it was going.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Saturday, December 21, 2013

His Name

Hot water whistles
from the faucet,
fills the sink

razor in hand,
he leans closely

facing the person
in the mirror

recalling his name

Sunday, December 15, 2013


Torn apart

& rebuilt in a year,

this version is an upgrade

with steel skin

& backup soul.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Saturday, December 14, 2013

This Candle

this candle
between us

in holy ritual
& vow

our clock
this candle

let it burn
burn down

the time of color
and fleeing
waxen faces

this light
this candle
between us

would you
snuff it

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Written for dVerse Poets Pub

We Were Close

When we were close,
the smoke drifted
through the porch
into the night's
open mouth.

Stars shined
out of its throat.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013


That darkness
between lights,
more fearful
for its suddenness.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Beyond Eyes

Forever ended
before now began

to capture
each other
in the lens
of our eyes

beyond eyes

next time
we see


will be

light & colors
of our introduction

see us
parting ways

of our
sentimental brevity

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

dVerse Poets Pub: Open Link Night #126


Did anyone hear the hammering as pain shaped you in the forge?



They were only words
from a voice,
but I heard the sound
of something tearing
below the level
of my thoughts.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Sunday, December 8, 2013


I wobble
in an uncertain step,
nearly fall
but for my wall,
just within reach,
a hand's touch away.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Our Love

Our love, a cord of twisted strands, unraveling at the knot we tied.


©Eusebeia Philos 2013


An arcing of current
passes between us,
voltage finds our path,

this energy will flow,

do you feel the charge
through your resistance?

©Eusebeia Philos

Wednesday, November 27, 2013


Call it down,

bring it on,

     that magic

when your hands

weave the air,

your head tilts,

hearing music

from above,



©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Saturday, November 23, 2013


The fascination of this world
is its brokenness

wrapped & held in
tiny tethers of beauty

     hanging by a thread

dawn breaks
& something else
is sure to drop
& shatter today

the constant repair
to keep it going

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Earring in '77

At the party
Gladys was eating Oreos
& squeezing a plastic cup
of flat beer
when she offered
     to pierce my ear
     in the night
that apartment
where Morgan
     fell off balcony
     of Paul's sermon,
     spirit of tequila deadened.

Morgan beat the physics of a falling body
& his two-story
Galileo drop
while Gladys
had me hold
a gold post
in a shot of disinfectant
she's close enough
to numb my lobe with ice,
to stare at her robust mouth -
     gap-filling crumbs between her teeth
     & Procol Harem
     reassure me

& a gold post punctures flesh
into potato backup.

An emergency room visit
& Morgan's still unconscious,
     unable to see
my flash gold earring
and the reasons
to make the drive home
     in bleary dawn.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Thursday, November 14, 2013

American Sentences for dVerse Poets Pub

The glory all see shining from inside her life hides from her own eyes.

Rain falls on an empty park bench, an umbrella floats in a puddle.

He rested his head on her memory, the only trace she left for him.

His conscience was the critic sitting in the audience of his life.

She slides her finger across the spines of books on her shelf, deciding.

She refuses to accept a rose without the thorns - and the blood they draw.

We can leave clues to find our way back - if staying lost together fails.

All she would ever be to him was marvelous, distant perfection.

With a torch in his hand, he lined up the straw men for execution.

It's been a while since I've stopped in at the Poets Pub. I'm glad I swung the pub doors open today when I saw that Gay Reiser Cannon had presented us the task of writing some American Sentences. Perfect. I've been experimenting writing American Sentences on Twitter since I stumbled across them in the same book that Gay referred to, Kim Addonizio's Ordinary Genius, A Guide for the Poet Within. I've found this form of seventeen syllables to be less restrictive than haiku and a great way to launch creative thoughts when I feel stuck for a longer form. 

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Sunday, November 10, 2013


Words strung together
by the fluent tongue
to ink and paper

created in innocence
for a discerning ear

born to please
monsters they became

in misunderstanding

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Thursday, November 7, 2013


All your yearnings,
each a whispered prayer,
ascend to a high place,

let the rain fall,
complete its way,

let it splash in answers
on your face

turned up
in question

to the sky.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Your Heart

Your heart
confesses an eloquent
ruby flow,
bleeds poison,
potent by love's sting
that should have been
a kiss to heal.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Monday, November 4, 2013

One Way

She walks
the long way

rough gravel

barely a road

through waves
of rippled hills

never looks behind
to see the time
already far gone
from unravel

rusted wire fences
stitch both sides
in firm denial

heavy weighted clouds
above & ahead

where is shelter?

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Green Paths

The untouched
in you
is wild,
still new,
the dew

of morning
in your mind,
fresh grown
& green,

a path
for you
to find.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Friday, November 1, 2013

Sunset From Sea

Knifing mountains of clouds
slice upward
through the sky
from the dappled sea,


the color of warm honey
bleeds through the cracks,

rivulets glisten
in the cuts of shadow.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Monday, October 28, 2013


Don't make any
   sudden moves

   in this,
our quiet oblivion,

no sense reminding
anyone we're here,

happily disregarded.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Sunday, October 27, 2013

In Me

They are one
living as two,


the other
we are not
sure about,

     there may be more,

     we don't go looking.

Neither completely
body or mind,

they politely
step aside for each

     when it's one's turn to go out,

passing through
     the membrane
that cannot contain

a voluntary location
to repose until a
call to action rings
a quick exchange

     for the proper face.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Time Springs

What does time ease
but springs in an old clock,

winding down hours
until energy is spent,

metal coils
without purpose,

waiting for

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Tide Marks

Tide marks
of your desires

rise and fall
on my heart,

the degrees

leave scars
stained loud,


in your oceans
     of storm
          and calm.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Wednesday, October 23, 2013


Meet me in
the old grove
beneath the
untended fruit,
where the sun leaves
its last touch,
and we'll fill 
of sweet flesh
in warm grass.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Brown Autumn

In farmer's fields
green that screamed
of spring rise and 
vibrant summer life
drifts to dry brown of 
autumn's harvest store.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013


Even in ashes
our words stirred,

in warm currents,

to descend.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Monday, October 21, 2013

Flying Leaves

Driving on the familiar road
in the early morning distance
between death-like sleep
and caffeinated hyper-sight,
a form moved across my eyes
ahead of me,
above the lanes.

The sky swirled high
with weaving leaves,
growing outward
and pulling back in
like a chest rising and falling
in search for air.

The spell lingered
for a few more deep breaths,

then broke in a rush
as the leaves spilled
out of the sky
and became
hundreds of joyous sparrows
on way to winter's home.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Note: an expanded revision of "Flying Leafs" posted earlier.

Sunday, October 20, 2013


the sky stands tall
buzzards glide
in spirals
stacked 1-2-3
descending to earth
where death eats in dirt

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Friday, October 18, 2013

Flying Leafs

Driving on the familiar road
in early morning absorption,
living again after 
night's temporary death,

the sky swirled high
with weaving leafs
till the spell
turned them back
to sparrows by the hundreds

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Saturday, October 12, 2013

Cracked Window

Every day
she stared out
through a cracked window
at the world around her
and came to understand life
in shattered visions.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Fuel and Air

Unrestricted in space
we are volatile,
in freedom we twist
into turbulence
like spirits released
from a long,
lonely confinement,
swirling in and out
of each other,
a spark ignites
our primal elements,
weaving, flowing,
threaded together
into this burning knot,
a dancing ball of blue flame

burning and not consumed.

©Eusebeia Philos 2103

Senryu 1

hearing her heart call ~
he strains against his conscience ~
unable to respond

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Sunday, September 15, 2013

He Takes

He stole the gold
wrist and neck chains,
pawned 'em
for good money,
took the cash,
rings, coin collection
-gold and silver,
collectors guns,
an iPod and
its speakers,
cashed in the
savings bonds
and his own
"lost" an iPhone,
smashed a car,
blew out engine one,
blew out engine two
(different car)

He's a thief
so he can be an addict,
he likes heroin
heroin eats him

He's a liar
so he can be an addict
he likes heroin
heroin speaks truth

He steals the truth
so he can be a lying addict

he says
trust me
so he can con me


too late for locks,
nothing left

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Your Word

Your word is only a sound you make,
a physical thing
it seems
     an involuntary response
          to some distant stimulus
chord vibrations that are pleasing
some center of your throat
in your cat-ness

for it has no connection
to what is here,
right now, in front of us,
was it even an interaction,
your reaction
to what I said,
cognizant of my sound
but not my thoughts?

Random follow-ups
put you in some distant place,
or perhaps you were never here
to begin
this sin
of pretending to understand.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Wedding Dancing

Aches and pains
at the open bar
in open fascination
of the pulsing,
writhing mass
of dancing bodies
in techno-trap-

A few quick
dance lessons
from Jack Daniels and
the music pulses in
matched synapses,
gives me that old
fashioned primal beat.

Salome, you dears,
don't ask for my head
when you nab me
for a dance, you
three, barely
daughter's friends,
in your combo of
youth and virtuosity.

Escorts at both elbows
with one leading the way,
to their dance floor domain
we go, those three
and my gray goatee to

to the rhythmic method
of da-da-dancing,

definitely not the father-daughter dance.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Something Follows Me

I try to outrun it,
pacing into the tall grass of the fields
where the under-creatures scurry and
chattering insects leap from harvest heads,
even wading hip high under oozing nightness
absent any human companion,

something follows me
and I sooo want to turn and face it -


for though I struggle,
I've built immunity
and want to exercise my
peculiar muscles,
make the adrenaline flow
against this troubled foe,
toe to toe.

It always chases me
because I carry it with me
wherever I go,
I make it so,
I want it so,
attached to me,
this fault in my pocket
that follows free,

my mishapen character,
a pattern in my mind will
distill into the reality
I need to see,
recognize it clearly,
an image burned
in my surroundings manifest,

so comfortable
that my psyche dances through,
knowing that
my coping skills
can thrive,
feel alive,
clash blades,
against this thing
that follows me.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Calydonian Boar

Gone a whoring,
the man-pig
routs with his
snout in the dirt of
the crude temple floor,
blessings for his quest,
calls for the priestess
to attend him,
come accept his
drink offering,
grunting beast,
foul breath in 
unwashed crusts
of skin, names
himself beautiful,
boasts of his
suppurating wound,
fixed in its soul-less
primitive throes,
a lower function mind
appeals to any who
answer his discharges,
husky-filled calls
masked in distinctive
aromatic rubbings,
pleasing words,
read at leisure
in old parlors,
the poems of a
Calydonian Boar,
intent to destroy,
he's a ravager.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Thursday, August 22, 2013

A Short Absence

Pink bathing suits and pillows are packed

for the drive up to the islands,

she pulls the mini-van down the drive

and small hands wave out the window,

while he

reclines on the porch,

takes a swig,

lights up a Cuban,

and wonders -

knowing he would decline

- why he never got an invite.

©Eusebeia Philos

A story written in 55 words for dVerse Poets Meeting the Bar

Monday, August 19, 2013


Fervor burns in their hearts,
pure convicting blood
courses through veins
undiluted by any wisdom
in the circle of human dirt,
anti-intellectual zealots
defying their own creed
of love for others
in favor of their greater love
to wear the judge's robe,
sanctions of imprimatur,
intoxicating authority,
perfect righteousness,
the taste of bitter judgments
lingers on their tongues.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Saturday, August 17, 2013

A Note Past Due

   Send this note,
spinning the clock hands backwards
through a wormhole,
   with no regrets
it's paper and ink,
crumple it,
wad it,
pitch it,
(if you want)
not a weight around his neck,
   to myself,
you were made of the right stuff
without knowing it
to chase the sky signs
blue-stamped in your
essential desires,
free to choose
an alternate impossible assignment
rather than the one
the oracle predicted for you
   in the past
family narrative that says
you do what your daddy did


do what you dream
before you wake up
to the mediocrity of
being practical.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Written for dVerse Poets and Poetics ~ Sent With A Stamp hosted by Mary.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Stranger He Knew

When darkness
turned its brush
on his heart
in paint the color
of livid bruising,
she reached far
and knocked
on his entry,
     an inquiry,
breaking his
of sorrow in words,
the bothers of a man
hid behind a stout
door of oak and brass,
heavy hinged,
     a second appeal
he looked up,
opened the door
to a stranger
from the street,
a city castoff,
standing just aside
the revealing light,
she had a word for him,
a scrap of paper
scratched with verses
of what he knew
about ideal love,
wishes from his heart
through the ghost
of another world,
they'd blown away,
written in
another mind,
another time,
carried far
in updrafts,
car exhausts
to her
understanding eyes,
straight speak,
she shares
of the truth
she sees in him
and his words,
and more,
as she stands
part way
inside his
open door,
and he wonders
how a stranger,
born from the heart of a poet,
came to know more of him
in so few scribbled words,
than others who'd
glanced over him for a life.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Sunday, August 11, 2013

I Left

We left the town
on this beat down
dusty trail of
gilas and rocks,
squabbling about
who owes who what,
and what for that
drunk poker cheat
stole my hard coin,
smack that paint up
girl had a smile
for me at dark,
swilled last liquor
from my saddlebag -

my tongue was a
might bit sharper
than his thin skin
and I jabbed him
clean and through
until he drew...

I left a body
just off the trail,
behind a boulder,
about ten miles back,
clear and peaceful
this quiet track.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Over at dVerse Poets, Shanyn has us writing Cowboy Poetry

Saturday, August 10, 2013


By the treachery of Delilah,
her mythic man
of outrageous deeds
on the fields of war
and the beds of pleasure
was caught up by
enemies of his tribe
and relatives of his victims,
made bound, cured
of his animal instincts,
and the eyes that found
Delilah right and pleasing
were gouged out,
lust for lust,
blood vengeance for those
who had fallen by
Samson's angry hands,
which now blindly felt
in the darkness for
the pillars that would
give the mighty man
a last epic victory,
a rally for his tribe,
a satisfying death -
falling by the violence
of his own hands,
rubble for his grave.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Friday, August 9, 2013

Not Machine

Metal on metal
screams for attention
as the pace picks up
and no one notices
the cracks, small,
stressing from the fatigue,
the battering
that won't relent
to keep the machine
on schedule, tight - too tight
with needs to anoint, 
a patch repair on the fly,
searching for the manual,
the how-to of self healing
to trouble shoot
this collection of parts
- body, soul, mind -
intricacies of movement,
before the ground rises up
to meet staggering knees
that are willing to run,
just reduce the load,
shut it down,
bring it in,
for it's built to go
and go it will to flames
without care.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Tuesday, August 6, 2013


All the bits of you,

unpersuaded permanence,

unable to change,

forever stained in

your personal ink,

unwilling to move

and unlatch itself

from your soul,

kicked into a world

of existence and being,

unrecognized blank pages

when the first person

with a pen writes

the name you carry

forward in identity,

declares you

in their perception

of one-eyed singularity,

to be the doll or beast

in their vision at that

moment of naming,

let the title stick

or find

another person or friend,


holding you by the handle,

to look at you differently,

to become someone new

without changing

a thing

about yourself.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Sunday, August 4, 2013


in the plural,
fused together
as one
the confusion
of years
and new
no marks,
up close
and personal,
deep bruises
where none
can taste,
black breath
hiss in
your ear
with repetition,
oily burns
smell in
your nostril,
no incense
relief for
lighted candles,
put another
coin in the box
and stay
away from
anymore who'd
do the same.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Friday, August 2, 2013


Your mind

stands divided,

speeds in confusion,

swirls in contemplation,

simple tasks confound,

this was your choosing,

splitting the union

of minds grown


as one.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Fluid Love

A liquid, fluid love

that flows from heart to heart

in rivers fast and thick,

to carry out to sea

in current unopposed,

our leisure deep and blue,

a bottom, endless falls,

nor reckless we return

to shore where loveless stand

to stare with painful risk

at we who have no fear

to drown as one with arms

around no one but us.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

A poem of iambic trimeter written for dVerse Poets ~ Open Link Night #107