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C.N.P Poetry 

  • Writer's pictureCathexis Northwest Press

None; When the S.S. Arrived

By: Daniel Edward Moore


Allegedly, the weak mind thinks

on its knees with hands

cupped like beggar’s prayers,

& heaven blushes as if the sky

can wear Babylon’s rouge of shame

as well as me oh lord.

Me, your undelivered kind,

your skin envelope sorrow sealed

by unrepentant tongues.

Lord, as I walk hermeneutical tracks,

where scriptures blaze like

sparks of steel worn down by

what the body needs, I’m

tempted by burning bushes Lord,

by bodies bent into offering plates

rattling with change. I suffer

the spirit’s ten percent,

the rest my pleasure steals.

When the S.S. Arrived

Temped to fall in love with falling

on a northwest island in May, I was

intimate with the unmanageable.

Exposing ourselves behind closed

doors to how much the body can take

and give back, miles from the stares

of urban folks, dying for something

pink to touch, something green to taste.

With life framed by a cold blue edge

in a world not Safe or Sorry, the obvious

presence of a pulmonary passport made

in the dark on the body’s last day

makes time a lover with no time to love,

makes me take refuge in a deafening alarm

bare faces won’t stop ringing.


Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island.

His poems are forthcoming in The Cape Rock, Kestrel, RipRap,

The Timberline Review, River Heron Review, Passengers Journal,

Coachella Review, Ocotillo Review, Nebo Literary Journal

and Main Street Rag.

He is the author of the chapbook “Boys “(Duck Lake Books) and

'Waxing the Dents,' is full length collection is from Brick Road Poetry Press.

Visit him at


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