Poetry by John Eivaz

© 2000 John Eivaz. All Rights Reserved.

El Relojero

El Relojero

by John Eivaz © 2000

Think of a storm
with its malevolence
turned inside out–

thunderclaps nestled in satin,
downpour of intense tiny sweat,
steadily-illuminating sky of skin
flashing heat lightning,
body scents earthier than ground–

your landscape
turned inside out also,
bearing desire to these elemental outbreaks:
you are glistening.

Think of the apex:
maybe there you came
back to yourself for a moment
remembering it always does end.

And when you left, you returned
to it even wetter, in awe
of your own storm,
dancing wilder within it.

leave the light on
by John Eivaz © 2000

inside my eyes
webs form

I can untangle
if you stand here
or sit there

naked and blest
by the small light
in the corner

now mobile within
my fingers press you
as we unmove

there is enough light
for us to see each other

turn to shared breath, exchanged
through our skin



Musica Sola

Musica Sola

Sense Scribbles
by John Eivaz © 2000

night rose wanders
to her cool
private cove

the scent is jazz
conversationally foreign
ransacking her senses
infusing itself
within her and drawing
this scene inside

the sound is the peak of the waves
crisp whack of light petals
popping upon the foam
this noisy moonlight,
night rose muses,
better than before

her sight twists inwards
though the ocean's expanse
grasps her as a jealous lover
might press an arm, and squeeze,
plead and disappear before her resolve...
inside the water is warm
fascinatingly turbulent
awash with chromatic desire
blending her in
like no actual waters could

now touch the sand's grittiness
clean, immense and cool
exquisite shiver, sense of scale
reminder of earthlock
night rose in pliant bloom
delicacy feeding itself
now touch the moon

saltiness everywhere
returns to her,
preserving, arousing,
taste of air, lips licked
diffusion of this secret world
in a metaphor of salt

night rose jazz
petals salty like waves
moonlight turned turbulent
like waves, senses shiver
upon the foam, inside
the water is warm
turns inwards, pliant blooms
ransacking her senses
blending her in
clean, immense and cool
like no actual waters could


by John Eivaz © 2000

this trance of seclusion,
not hypnotic enough
to cause break with you...

a loving haunt,
dwelling in corners,
clothes, bedsheets,

still on my fingers,
inside out, outside in
my pores

filling the rock cold face
of a perfect moon recalled



Papilla Estelar

Papilla Estelar

Weary, After So Many Storms
by John Eivaz © 2000

i wish there were drops
clear spheres of surface tension
sliding down the window

instead of this blur
which cools all off
if you are outside

becoming heavy with water

i'd like to remain aware
watch the drops instead
not feeling them
slide into each other

losing each other
to become the blur
which the guy inside

looks at
yet cannot feel

by John Eivaz © 2000

open windows here in this hothouse
it's an instigation of contentment
when the breeze blows in

when we're distanced by words
and intellect
we circle and swarm through our dreams
blind ourselves with longing
sleep odd hours

open windows here in this hothouse
the season will provide the ripeness of fruits
grown close
yet left to their own reaching
left to each others' touch
there, in the distance
through an open window

Tejedora de Verona

Tejedora de Verona

by John Eivaz © 2000

out of the many of these
grey waddling birds
who end up in my little yard
I have singled out 3 or 4
and have watched them now
for 2 or 3 days
one is quiet another has a bad foot
and limps
and the last one is not
distinguished at all
face it
we don't have a whole lot of time left
we never did
we must streamline, consolidate if
we can't do anything else
so I have made believe
that these birds are all the same bird
I have imagined a different color
a sadder song
and it all reminds me of you
my yard singer,
my brief flyer,
my love

All Poems © 2000 John Eivaz.
All Rights Reserved. Do not reproduce
or distribute without the expressed
written consent of the author.

Artwork by Remedios Varo (1908-1963)
Available at Artes en México

John Eivaz is a writer, poet and winery worker. Originally from New York he now lives in California's central valley. Print publication includes ABBEY, IN THE GROVE, MIND IN MOTION and PENUMBRA. On line he has appeared as part of MINDFIRE, PANIC ATTACK, and POETRY TONIGHT. He is a staff member at THE FULL DECK where he regularly contributes twisted news haikus, limericks and songs, and has a cartoon of a website, POEMETRY. He enjoys the fog.
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