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