mike hiler poetry

                                                                                         Devil's Slide, Milk Creek   Stone's Source, Part #I  /43   I do not choose to glorify  the color we see when we change colors,  the shapes we create, in plastic or metal,  the sounds we create when we welcome noise,  the people we become when we try,  the Earth as it is becoming,  the stars which do not live in the heavens,  the concerns of glory, or avarice or profit,    the chance not taken or      taken for the wrong reasons      which beg results which can transcend      heaven.   I do not choose to glorify  the time it takes to complete ...

    Stone’s Source  /41                                    INTRODUCTION            Choosing a medium is the most complicated part of it, the act  of putting down, drawing out,          or otherwise shaping the granite into flesh, from experience, for closely guarded moments          of insight or the process of gain, or the recess of pain.            From that spot it looked like a sort of ooze. It was expelled   from fissures which had no other purpose          than to tell us what was possible a million years ago but is now  solid rock, s...

                                                                                                                                Photo by Jo N. Miles                                   END                   Shadow Of Forgotten Ancestors           40.  

                                                      Photo by Kristin Hiler     Closing  /39   But for now only the ocean floor and a great expanse of water between can render for us the vision of a world immersed in moving fluid, as we move within ourself.   To break time by sequence is an art wholly of those whose hearts are driven by a steady, rhythmic beat.   For those who simply burn, the fire is enough.      39.   

  Fifth Day Of Virgo  /38   This once as mine calls together in line,      Tells from being quickly      closed all snow, Saw and growing green the answer chose to know.   Quietly then to see what's known of hills under      grass or pushed above      clouds too soon before night by being told in a winter's tale from      under the open window flow      cold centuries grow.   On the fifth day of Virgo   Longer than who owns who, all held and know:     likeness in likeness,     then whispers,   "time to go".     38.    

         Between Us  /37        There is a time           made for mending;      it is the space between           all things broken.        There is a color           which you can not see      Past your moods           with none to caress.        There is a world           among worlds      adrift in this ocean           of starry emotions.        There is this heart           reflecting all I can see      off eyes, from a       ...

         Token For Venus  /36        While the ticking of it turns there is      but reason for the separation of each      moment,, and as momentum in      the cleavage of each we bend      against this steady rhythm of dying      or sleeping like a clock: wound each      evening for hands to turn and faces      to say what they may      of this day lost in time.        We are running down,,, yes, but not      with the rhyme of a lost globe's      spinning or laying hands on an      instant in Space as with Death.  This      day has gone on forever and as such      will my love last and my bones decay,      as you are...