Wanderlust

I wanna tightrope walk on contrails,

skinny dip in the zephyrous yonder

lost in wild blue wanderlust thoughts with you.

We can linger in the umbra

when the sun holds its nose and dunks under;

let our starry Van Gogh eyes

light up Cheshire bright

and wink

like Betelgeuse and Orion.

We can fit our feet with Autumn leaves,

surfing the dusky sky’s coffeebreath breeze

and jump into the raked piles

of our fall in love.

Published in: on November 6, 2012 at 2:29 am  Leave a Comment  
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Mellowfluous

On days like these

ink creeps down the confessing page

rain slides down the windows

and blood weeps slow through my polar veins

the coffee perks and drips in sync

and someday soon

all these liquids will efface

amalgamize in a swirl in the palm of my hand

and I will smear them down my sullen face

ink rain and blood

Published in: on November 12, 2009 at 11:05 pm  Comments (1)  
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The wind: a breath, a current

A breath
went for a walk
with two gallivanting fingers
up and down
her spine
That doormat
sure can hold on tight
when the wind
comes from behind
  
A breath
that couldn’t talk
through pillows and trachea hugs,
exhaled in tears
and darkened stratospheres,
that muffled wind
who can bend and ascend
to the heights of beanstalks
 
Some foreign breath
that blows wind chimes
carries, like rivers,
the silence
and disseminates
the seeds
much like dandelion weeds
to a distant resting place
for unspoken violence
 
The wind: a breath, a current
that strips trees or tickles noses,
waves flags,
shifts sand,
and is a collection
of the sighs
of millions of years’ toil
Published in: on June 25, 2009 at 12:03 am  Comments (2)  
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Invisible Enemy

Like listless marionettes
The trees dance despite the rain
They bend and kiss the ground
The oppressing master swirls around
It battle rams into our barricades
The defense seems much too weak
It finds a crack and seeps in
I’m telling you, it is the end.
storm-on-farm
Published in: on March 22, 1995 at 4:48 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Presentiment

Oh so amazing

Stuns my bare eyes

The plague we need

Endure it to survive

 

Coming down hard

And filling up quick

The fix for cleansing

Retreat for the sick

 

And what shall we do?

…fell through holes in the net

fall as it may

it’s not our concern.

Published in: on March 10, 1995 at 3:40 am  Leave a Comment  
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Sunset

There is a melancholy shroud

That clouds the empty sky;

Leaving us with nothing

But despair of sun or rain.

 

The shadows grow to nothing.

The light cannot char through.

Departing to the backdrop,

Color me very gray.

 

That pasty horizon settles

And preys the sunset’s show-

Showing nothing but a coveting tear,

Nor breaking loose it’s will.

 

The sun folds behind the mountains,

The dark lingers still.

It suffocates the galaxy

And now the warmth is gone.

Published in: on April 29, 1994 at 3:52 am  Leave a Comment  
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