Table the conversation, bed the silence

Long after we have introduced ourselves

and cast every thought into the volatile waters

uttered every minute detail of every minute

divulged the diary of our doldrum day

sung every love ballad to the other…

our thoughts and speech will dwindle like a slow-dript faucet

 

in the silence,

our eyes will lock

and all that is left

is the movement of our hands

speaking the things words cannot express

our mouths on skin, forming

a language that is not fully translatable

the fine articulation of bodies

declaring a rare love

that is yet still oral

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Slow progress

I’ve finally managed to finish something. It’s damn near May!  Egads. I need to spend more time in that art room. Time is in a sieve.

So here’s one I started about a year ago:

(sorry the pix aren’t the best. I think I need a new camera)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I did this one a few years ago. I just refound it. The medium is pastels, and I used my thumbprints to make the background. Add this one to the androgenous soul series…

the target in the cross-hairs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

  

 I’m easy prey these days,

a rapid catch.

ready to play?

 

teasingly left garments torn

soaked in my musk

hang from the oaks

 

and tracks where the mud

squooshed between my toes, show

you are on my tail

 

if your gun is loaded and ready

and your hounds can sniff my trail

you’ll be sure to bag me soon

  

if your senses are keen

you will recognize

that there are tracks aside mine

 

an imprint, but of what?

and pointy shards of shattered dreams

a struggle has occured, it seems

 

dear hunter,

are you stalking game

or a tracker shepherd ?

 

where I hide

under the leaves and bramble

and piles of loose earth

 

freshly discarded

ragg’ed and shucked

bum luck. Your mark’s already snatched

  

wipe the horror and shock from your face

rise to your feet

for at this very moment

 

you may be the target in the cross-hairs

My Reincarnate Besotted

 

My mental recycling

discards the rest and keeps the best

parts of you you you

 

Masking matters that

never mattered with painter’s tape

blue blue hued

 

I drink to forget

liquefying you down, remolding you

in me, booze broods bruised

 

Like a bloated tick

you return, popping in my mind

reuse use used