To Turn off the Music- Scroll to the bottom and pause it.
"
PERFECT STORY
Vibrancy ignites, screaming brilliance in constant vibrato. Beaches of green valleys cling like contagious patches, spreading further each day across the skin of the earth.
Once again, I find myself beneath the trees- looking up at the puzzles which pose against the vast moods of the sky. I wonder if the erect boughs which stare back appreciate the design which is me.
What is it about the sound of twigs crackling beneath my feet, or the feel of sun- baked dust on my bare ankles, that lures me to such collective tranquility? -Perhaps, this serenity’s sole existence is simply the device of recognition. Perhaps, I am the reason for this to even exist, as these moments determine my existence.
A shawl of warmth veils my shoulders, inviting me to lift my face to the heavens for an early summer’s kiss. Although my eyes are closed, a sudden splash of gold paints the thin shade of my lids, and I know at this moment, I am looking into the face of God.
The damp scent of ancient soil toils within a jasmine tainted breeze- the moist aroma is the calling of distant tears which weep from a forgiving sky. The flavor of renewal and earthly cleansing fills my pallet, as I draw the crisp, wetness in deep. Soon the rains of baptism shall come, and once again I shall be re-born.
Many occasions I have heard the notion said, ‘dying is easy, for it is life which is the greatest burden’ -yet, at this moment I cannot find truth in this statement, as such beauty abounds to nurture and marry my living spirit of self, as I drink from the cup of earth’s generosity.
Flecks of tiny blossoms speckle throughout the meadow. These unique expressions seem to be the precious stories told by the sunsets themselves. Each small flower a living journal kissed with the essence of a twilight horizon. What purpose should such color be, if not for the pure simplicity of capturing the radiance of today, and entice favor for us to continue our paths into tomorrow. For this, I am thankful.
Winds rise to ribbon around my form, gently lifting my tresses with touch unseen. Indigo plumes ink across a crystal ocean-sky. Rain begins to softly descends and quench the land- as the whispers tap against my skin, I become aware that I too, am the conception of a story..
I am the psalms of an awoken season, the breath which resides in poetic inspiration. I am the maiden storms which seize, the laughter of a wind song- a blossom seed. I am the roots which entwine, and the vines which roam free- I am the legend shroud of each timeless tree. I am the rain drops which cry, and the petals that wilt. I am the endless plains, I am eternal hills. I ride upon the wings of birds which drift into divinity- I am the streams and the rivers, and the shore beside the sea. I am the ink which etches upon clay pages -my composition is earth, wind, fire and water’s revelation. Nothing dwells less than, nor achieves greater balance without me; for I am the sister-spirit to all which is life, and life is the chapters held in the palm of creation’s perfect symphony.
Blessed be.
INSOMNIAC
Pressed against a predisposed cage
My mind imprisoned to stay awake
Restless hours I attempt to escape
Yet, I am not privy to the gift of rest
Night my companion- refuses release
While the ‘others’ blessed with normality sleep
I am my own clock absent of a dial
The essence of a reluctant child
All is quiet in the hours I toil
As I dwell suspended in a moonlit cell
Yes night, she is but a seductress fiend
Enticing my mind, forbidding me to dream
O’ how I long to awake at dawn
To rise with the sun’s gently woven song
However, for me this greeting remains unseen
For countless sunrises have bled me to sleep
The birds- so chorus, announce earth's harmony
Mimic miniature intrusions with chaotic screams
Pecking at my ears with such peaceful strife
While I plead for silence, and try to cling to night
My stomach swims as nausea plays
Daytime again; dark circles to erase
Weary now I can retire, and wake before three
So I can pretend to be like everyone else- except me
*until tonight*
CROWS CURSE And THE BUTTERFLY
Time is a translucent galaxy
Mocking the mind that we remain free
In a land of ice, melting away
Moments hours, hours- days
Who are we, but a nameless face
A passing thought within this space
The chosen seed to complete the plan
Roses laced with thorns- we are man
Names etched in tomorrow’s dust, powdered in the breeze
We are the chapters written, which fall from dormant trees
We are the tears, which baptize each face
The lost and the found, we are pride, we are disgrace
~
When a rainbow cries the colors turn black
Raining down on every crow covered back
Only the butterflies can rise above
To return the lost colors back to love
Do you stand strong when the earth spins to quick?
Are you the candle- or the flame on the wick?
Do you sleep in the soil waiting to grow?
-Or does your vines stretch wild with purpose to sow?
Many are unaware that their footsteps will not last
Oblivious to tomorrow- prisoners of the past
A rose rooted in salt, cursed with a crow burdened back
They shall suffocate in that soil, when the black rains attack!
Worshippers of device focused ahead
They seize the day as they decorate the dead
Desecrating each breath while they blindly walk-
With malignant deeds, they draw their outline in chalk
However, there are few who wear their spirits outside
They confront the plague, and refuse to hide
They only cower when humbled before grace
Their heart bleeds in color, mercy masks their face
The thorns they adorn- are compassion, with faith by their side
When the black rain calls their name, they spread their wings and glide
An open rose which shall reign through the storm and rise high
They paint eternal skies with love
For they are -the butterfly
~
The choice is predisposed when our hourglass placed
As sands sift steady, and our galaxy erased
Take note of the rose you have chosen to be
So when your petals wilt- your vines shall grow free
BLUE BIRD
He calls in song upon ribbons of scent’d apple blossom and pine-
Which bathe forth thro’ my sill, awaiting
Breast vest'd like sand, and a sky hued cape -
He presents himself with utmost right!
His visit is to bestow a late March gift to me
-A note which shan’t be seen
The gesture of a most humble offering
My messenger is he-
A reminder perch’d low for me to spy
That Spring shall always birth and find us-
If we so choose to believe!
He then stretch’d his ocean arms wide-
And flew back into the mirror'd sky
His gift deliver'd with such profound devotion
The parcel unseen was but a notion of splendor
-Such is the spirit’d kind!
For now as my sights are awaken’d
I shall remember this morn’
And the gift of the mood enchant'd
-To be so divinely blue, as he
~EDEN~
Temptation is nothing more than promiscuous intent, dancing off the tongue of a
forbidden lover~
Unbind my chains and release my flesh to entwine me with you kisses which bind. Search
out my urgency of secret tears, which rain forth from my readied vine. Swim within my
scent of a garden pure and replenish my harvest, forgotten -For these are the moments
when lust learns of love, to inhale the beauty of ancient blossoms.
Anticipation is the servant of need, a necessity tasted before the storm. This amorous cup
can only be held, by the master who dares to implore.
A touch which sweeps across the horizon of a meadow untouched, yet lays in wait -is the
very breath captured within a breeze so warm and sweet, that surrenders my earth with
haste.
Fall upon my unclaimed splendor, and bring forth my desire to her knees -so I shall
ravish the seduction of your name, and taste of temptations' release!
Remember not my whispered name, nor my eyes which held your reason. For I have
flourished since the first dawn of mankind, for those who chose to dwell -within the
Garden of Eden.
CAT AND MOUSE
I caught of glimpse of him as he quickly flashed by
Out of the corner of my yesterday eye
I called to the bandit robed in shadows' disguise
'Who is there- and dares elude my curious eye?'
He laughed as he swept past, holding up a silhouette, mirror mask
The sinister then replied-
And who dear are you to intrude my moments of truth?-
For you are because of me, and I am because of you
I am the face of every clock
I am the hour hand which climbs
The heartbeat of the tic, and toc
The voice of every toll, and chime
To some my name has been called life
To others my name is known as death
For I possess the hour-glass
Which contains the sands of man's breath
You may believe me to be a saint
-or a thief who has mastered a crime
For you love, I shall introduce myself
Then he whispered in my ear-
I am your ghost, and my name is... Time
PARADISE DIPPED IN CHOCOLATE
I have not slept in thirty- eight years. I fear the blurred images of trees growing crippled,
and babies falling from the twisted, brittle, boughs will haunt my dreams.
I saw a woman yesterday. Her face long and gray, with lines of distaste burrowed where
her forgotten smile once vivaciously played. Alone- she sat watching as her world around
her erased. She rose with most statuesque grace, and walked over to a candy
counter, where her ten dollar bill was replaced with a brown paper bag.
Anticipation washed over the pollution in her eyes, as she opened her heaven, and buried
her hand into the soon-to-be litter disguised as a gift, revealing a finger-tip size piece of
dark chocolate paradise, and popped it into her mouth- and the woman smiled again.
Everyone has become a monk- following an order of their own convenience. Mankind are
like mice. Although they scurry about in separate directions through the maze of time-
they are each sniffing out the same prize.
The prize; momentary satisfaction, even though the moment melts into a seductive
memory once settled upon the tongue.
I roam within the valley of mountains built by human hands to house the restless. Even
the sun attempts escape- radiating against shiny armor, becoming a reflection of white fire
which severs back into indigo skies as rippled, pulsing, waves.
Birds perch on concrete streams- picking meticulously for feed through the rubble of the
streets. Flowers wilt along the waste-side and realize, they have been born without reason
to possess a scent so sweet.
I find myself wondering; if we no longer inhale the scent of a blossom, will the peddled
angel cease to exist? If the wings of a bird no longer free us of our cares, and we no
longer listen to their chorus, will they cease to accompany our ears, our sights?
And the lonely, search amongst the lonely- collecting more pieces of man-made device, in
hopes that the collection will one day make them whole again.
I find myself wondering; how can peace breathe in a land where euphoria fits in the palm
of a hand, and requires a battery charger as part of the divine plan? A plan
conceived from iron dreams that spit upon the earth, to satisfy the cravings of man.
Who are the predators, and who are the prey- when each strives for the fortune which
cannot be bought, only inherited, when the treasure before us the simplicity for which we
were born to appreciate.
I am deserted, an abandoned orphan by the prophesy of 'what is, and what shall be'. I do
not adhere to these plastic trilogies. I walk in the dust of 'what once was' - opening
my eyes to all of earth's remaining purity. Lost within the wilderness of the machine,
I run to primitive meadows of spiritual bound security.
-However, this is my time; the hour in which I was chosen to be. As I walk the path of
roses, I must respectfully accept the thorns which score at the tender flesh of my feet-
for these are the nails which have been driven by the blindness of humanity.
And I shall stretch my arms high, with faith by my side, that even in the dimness of light,
that I may catch the fallen babies.
I find myself wondering; maybe it is I who is spinning to fast to be seen, and maybe it is
the world- which is holding still.
PROMISE BEFORE SHE WEEPS
Barefoot she walks amidst the tall grass
Speaking in metaphor- she rhymes as she laughs
Falling down to greet the swell of a rolling hill
Just to watch the clouds parade by, and get lost in this world
Violet angels dance within her eyes
Like the butterflies which refuse time-
Twirling to a melody of the mid-day sun
While trees sway with serenity, gently hum
Dear child of love bestow'd
I shan't ever let go
May your garden reap purest gold
While your wings divinely unfold
This promise I bid to you
Shall always remain but true
Even if the rivers cease and run dry
And your sky no longer drifts blue
She calls upon every bird and blossom by name
Lending her directions to the chorus by day
To discover light anew, upon horizons portrait change
And within the breeze she dances on an earthbound stage
One day she shall awake
To find that her footsteps have been erased
Her hours shall burden long
And the lasting rainbows shall fade
Therefore, I shall leave her this oath
So she shan't lose her way-
To the place where roses chant
-And the stars ignite her faith
Dear child of love bestow'd
I shan't ever let go
May your garden reap purest gold
While your wings divinely unfold
This promise I bid to you
Shall always remain but true
Even if the rivers cease and run dry
And your sky no longer drifts blue
Twenty-five years have gone by
Since I have last seen that hillside
Yet, time cannot deceive
My promise to hold free
On the path I travel'd, I have crawl'd
As many storms have come to call
Countless tears have bath'd my face
And my youth, has been replac'd
Still, the spirit of yesterday remains
A child of when- who shan't be chain'd
Ah! When earth scent'd wind echoes throughout the trees
I lend a sacred ear of cherish'd necessity
This is when I can once again hear her sing to me
A song held dear of childhood memories
I can hear the promise I solemnly had made
A keepsake that was made -to myself, once upon a blessed day
Dear child of love bestow'd
I shan't ever let go
May your garden reap purest gold
While your wings divinely unfold
This promise I bid to you
Shall always remain but true
Even if the rivers cease and run dry
And your sky no longer drifts blue
WRITER’S RELEASE
My pencil escapes to etch the face of the sun's rays
-Dancing forth from my hurried fingertips
Winds sing with a pitch of peace
-Reciting the verse with precise hymns
I am the wander'r
Catching a ride on earth's rolling tides
A poet-
With the harmony of holy
And the wounds of evolutionary suicide
A child laughs
-I capture the shade within her eyes
An old man whose life has passed by
-My lead paints the tears he can no longer hide
Divinity and despair are my parchment seeds;
The breath of a lover
The un-compassed motion of the trees
These are the elements to which my spirit becomes- me
For to wake upon a dawn and not be that which is poetry-
Shall be the day which I no longer wake-
For that is day my soul has been released
HOPE- BECAUSE
Winter cries upon the earth with miniature feathers fallen from the wings of ice-angels
A single daisy dressed in April promises, blooms with the laughter of Spring against the
frigid winds
Although the master of new breath, possesses a key to unlock the season of birth,
-He has chosen to leave the earth tranquil, a bit longer
Yet still, she awakes to bloom
-Outstretched to worship the kiss of the sun
Her divinity does not exist due to her defiance; rather she has awoken and blossomed,
simply because ~she can
.. and the snow continues to fall
SUSPENDED IN YOUR TIME
There is a moment
A moment of unspoken design
Breath becomes water
-Just to merge into one body
I hear you laugh
Suspended in echoes throughout my mind
A journal has been written
A journal trapped within lost time
Haunted by your eyes
They are the still life portrait-
Of a thousand transcending suns
An impression of why each dawn must change
A longing for the stars, to forever remain
*so that I may wish to feel your touch upon my face*
You blink, and whisper my name
Just to taste the words on your lips
I listen, as you whisper my name
Just to hear the words on your lips
Follow me to a land where lovers play make believe
Where the stage is set, and onlookers anticipate
For us to kiss
Here is the place where you shall take my hand
And on your knees recite poetry to me
This is a place where I shall become a poets’ rose
There is a moment
A moment of unspoken design
Breath becomes water
-Just to merge into one body
*there is moment~ which is you*
OUTSIDE MY WINDOW
I settle beside the frame, to evoke inspiration, on such a winter's day
The season began to renew the 'once was' within my humble gate
~warming my spirit to celebrate, from the tip of my toes, to the dimple about my chin
And slowly I arose, to draw forth all that was 'good'- in
A smoke awakes, twirling without lesson from a chimney, escaping into the crisp, white, January air
And my collective eye meets the fleeting stare of a passer-by,
My new discoved friend stirs the wind with sparrow's dance, then ascends
~to sweep the canvass of heaven's wide grin
I could hear bells toll wildly; from where, I can not confess!
Snow then began to fall sweetly, whispering the secret of laughter's test
;For to capture these designs within your palm, bids no great labor
~However, the token kiss shall not keep
And may only remain for eternity, within the meadow of our dreams
As the snow sugared the streets, silence became the song of harmony
And all was good, and all was peace...
The BLESSING
Along the path we strolled hand in hand
Suspending our time within the sand
Our hair dressed with flowers of wild
A new chapter written for mother and child
She giggles a song of curious fair
Poking at berries on a leafy liar
‘Momma, is it safe to eat these kind?’
-She asked with raspberry hope in her eyes
Only the ones the deepest color of love
-I replied as a plucked one from high above
After our feast, ahead of me she ran
Until she discovered a caterpillar clan
‘Oh, Momma, can I hold just one, O’please?’
Only if you’re careful dear, and set it free.
The cotton climbed up her finger with stride
Gently, she kissed the fuzzy white hide
‘Oh Momma, I love it, do I have to let it go?’
If you don’t my dear, then it’s wings will never grow-
If you truly love it, you must set it free
So it may become all it can be.
‘Earth to Mom, are you listening to me?-Hellllo!
I awoke from a yester- daze, to find a young woman’s glow
I’m sorry dear I was just day dreaming again.
She laughed and said, ‘Today he asked me to move in.
-My decision won’t effect college, this fall I will start.
Oh Mom, I truly love him, with all of my heart.
He said he wants to marry me, two years in May,
-with my job, and his, I think we’ll be ok.
So what do you think Mom, can I have your blessing, please?’
I thought of my answer
I thought of the yesterday’s breeze.
I took a moment to reflect on her ripening young spirit
I took a moment to reflect on all she is yet to inherit
Then I looked at my little girl, now twenty years young
Holding back a tear, these are the words I sung-
Yes, my daughter, I have to let you go-
If I don’t angel, your wings will never grow
For if I truly love you, I must set you free
So you may become, all you are yet to be.
Along the path we strolled hand in hand
Suspending our time within the sand
Our hair dressed with flowers of wild
A new chapter written.. for mother and child
WHERE THE SPIRIT DWELLS
I woke on the chilliest of a winter’s morn’-
Collect’d my thoughts, as I set my cup of tea to seep & simmer,
Looked on at my daily ledger; Why ‘tis the 25th of December, the day which marks
the birth of our Lord! On such a day crowned with glory to adore brotherhood towards
man, I regret to inform, that my holiday had been displaced. Where had the child that bid
such chorus in me, escaped?-
The child who once danced to the light of the trees, upon a charmed Christmas day?
Ah!- The absence which hover’d within my gate, was due to a spirit, which had lost her way!
Today shall be the day, I so proclaim a gift to oneself; and with that I set forth to find
the spirit which I had misplaced…
~
I buttoned up my cloak, and wrapped my stow tight- Opened the latch-hook to my door
to welcome winter, and find the image I still so fondly remembered. Past my postal port,
on the road that leads to the trains, over the tracks, and down a well worn path,
my intentions are to return to the grange. For ‘tis been ages since my steps
had compassed this way, to my recollection ‘twas the land where I once
skipped with laughter, and played.
The grange was sternly silent- and the only company present was the characters posed
within the black stilts of the trees, and a dozen dubious eyes speckling the brush,
belonging to burrowed mountain bunnies. Altho’ the solitude held presence, a sound
most surely could be heard; the echoing spin of ice-laden winds,
and the carol of seasonal birds.
All to my gaze beheld a blanket of heavenly white, except for the shadows which
stretched to caress the snow with blue- and for a moment I could swear, I was followed to
this pass, by the young child which I once knew!
~
I set my rhythm forward, each step creating a new stone, and my heart began to dance in a
rapture of suspense, to the gay sound which plunged beneath my soles.
The crunch underfoot almost squeaked- and a giggle suddenly imposed!- From where, or why
this elation arose is not of matter, only the joy of remembrance of a Christmas that I once owned.
-I must be close to finding that spirit of the past, for the world before me was now awoke
to a tune, as if time itself, had reset a forgotten hourglass.
The clue appeared quite suddenly, so suddenly in fact, I held my gasp! For perched above
on a tree fringed with evergreen, a cardinal had crossed my path! I know upon first gaze
‘twas more than a painted sparrow, with a twig clasped between her
beak; but truly a messenger placed here per my request, to redeem the ghost to
which I seek, and the twig in actuality- was really a berried mistletoe wreath!
I call out to the angel, carefully wording my inquire-
‘Excuse me, O’ fairest of raven’s rose heart, but if you could be so kind as to direct me to
discover merriment upon her throne, I shall repay your efforts abundantly, with a
smile of purest grace, to illuminate your flight back home.’
O’ how the branch she decorated bounced so, when she bound forth into that icy sky, that
snow rained down from the bough in a veil of glistening white- gold upon the forest
floor!- And I clamored quickly in pursuit, as so the angel of blushing hue should
not elude, the resolution to my lore!
Beauty then began to descend, as powdered whispers fell curiously from the holiday sky.
Swirling like cotton clovers, skating within the winds’ playful tides. Yes, I was twirling
about, allowing the etched tokens to melt kisses upon my cheeks- remembering timeless laughter; remembering the youth I so beseeched. For a moment I felt like a pawn
captured, in this land where wonderment so lavishly flowed, that I had
lost site of my winged- director, and the quest for which I homed.
The falling wisps then fell faster to and fro’, and the wind began to swiftly swing! White
was blinding my sights to push forward, and continue to search for the spirit which
Christmas brings! I called out to the cardinal queen, and attempted to hurry my pace,
but winter retained my efforts, as I fell to my knees, and began to pray-
‘Shall I surrender Father, to elude the daughter who hides? The daughter who courted
you O’ Lord, the child I have buried inside. Will I ever find marriage with the spirit you
so divinely chosen to accompany me?- Or shall I accept absence, and inherit understandings thro’ mans’ empty luxury?’
~
With my fate accepted, I then rose, turning back to the path from which I came- when
suddenly I heard the distant sound of bells toll most triumphant, calling out to me by name!
The obligation I must follow became clear, as this journey to recover my spirit, I must complete.
I dusted the winter off my cloak front, and continued my course of relief.
The bells rang out louder with every step I placed, and the melody, a rhapsody of holiest
earth-bound thunder! Atlast breathless, I had reached my searching place;
an arbor birthing winter flowers, and an open vine clothed gate aflutter.
A Christmas village lay within, just beyond my readied steps; complete with lanterns
aflame, and swags on every post with decadent holly. Children ran amok
on pearl painted cobblestone, and the air held the sweetest scent of freshly baked barley
. For I was convinced that I had stumbled upon such a town built of fine treasure-
to view such a land with ignorance of discourse, which harbors such hospitable gesture.
Altho’ this resort embraced attentions to charm, my pursuit to locate my lost spirit
remained un-claim. For ‘tis my belief that true joy is not only to dwell in such light; but to
possess the wick which feeds the flame!
On this note, my messenger reappeared- swooping down in a gracious trace. She circled
my startled presence once, then landed on the most respectful of Christmas array!
‘Twas a tree of such majestic statue every branches flickered with tiny lantern stoves.
Ribbons swayed within the breeze, laced with golden stitch, and beside
every pinecone tower, was the companion of a rose! Beads made from most
precious seeds, looped to cascade like rubies bathed in a fountain. Silver streams swept down in a mass of strings, as if bewitched upon this Christmas mountain!
I approached the tree, unable to blink- struck by the view which astounded me- when
from a fleeting glimpse of my eye, a childhood spirit flashed to the other side, of the most
magnificent tree I have ever encountered! At that moment the cardinal took flight, after
that spirit so free- following her to the other side! I hurried around
to find what I so seeked, as to capture the ‘who’ or the ‘what’ in which I pined so painfully to still be.
However, I searched high and low for the child I once owned, but on the other side stood
only- the tree!
~
A rasping cough clattered, and I lent my ear in close. The choking decree seemed be
escaping from beneath, as I knelt down to find the host. There underneath, set against the
tree, was a man keeping sheltered from the cold. I assumed he was a pauper without a
home as he looked at me quite gray, and I proposed he had been struck ill with
melancholy fate- on such a blessed day.
His face was rugged and worn. His lips chapped and cracked, as he attempted to smile. I
wondered of his past, I wondered of his spirit- child. Garments fell displaced on his arms
covered with soot. No gloves covered his hands, and only one boot on his foot. Within his
hand he clenched an old empty can- empty on Christmas day. A day where peace and
giving are said to rule the land, and every miracle bid will find grace.
I filled his cup to the brim with clanking riches, removed my mittens, and unwrapped my
stow. I covered him gently to fight off the chill, for I am sure these are tidings he does not
own. He braced my arm softly, and then began to speak-
‘My dear, today you are my Christmas angel bringing strength, to an old gentlman who
has fallen weak. When I woke today, I thought m’dear, will Christmas remember me?
Then like a spirit you appeared, with a smile so beautiful and free- you my angel have
washed away my tears, and brought me such a gift of relief. Listen.- Can you hear the
bells toll? Do you dance within the snow which paints the trees? Can you see the child of
yesterdays wonder? Do you feel the moments of a lost breeze? Look deeper m’dear
within this old mans’ eyes; past the hours which scorned, past the sands of theiving time.
See not what is before you in flesh, but that which dwells within the bells forgotten
chime.’
~
I held his hand to me close, as I looked into his tear swept eyes, ‘twas that moment in
which I realized- that I had found my Christmas ghost.
For as I stared into his eyes, ’twas my own reflection I came to see, and that my lost spirit
had come home, because when we give, ’tis only then- that we truly receive.
LAST POEM OF A MARTYR
Bathed in filth on this prison floor, I bleed- quenching the dirt beneath my knees, with
tears that spill forth with man’s vile iniquities.
Altho’ this moment is my prophecy, I weep for those who befell this impurity before me,
as well as those that shall dwell upon my path when I am nothing more than ash that
powders the wind, to soil the lilies of the earth, with my sacrifice.
Bound in shackles which strangle my ankles, and ropes which cut into the flesh of my
pulse- I abide to no man’s imprisonment, as my body is the less of me, and my mind
remains open to roam.
The sill which blesses me from across my rodent chamber- altho’ small, sings to me with
a chorus of halos upon each new morn’, and whispers the journey of my escape, upon
each fallen eve, as the stars ignite a staircase for me to climb and slumber within the ripe
blossom of the moon.
My loneliness has not been a punishment induced by ‘them’-but a companion, to allow
my mind liberty to speak! Upon the hour ‘they’ call and muffle my screams, and ravage
what is left of my femininity- I look for the bird that appears on the tomb walls; bodice
decorated with the loveliest of rose-petals to rescue me.
The crimson angel opens her delicate wings to lift me
to recall the field where I can be lost within my childhood melodies.
Starvation is but a remedy; to truly accept that my flesh is but a part of who I use to be.
For famine clings with rot upon my breath, as a farewell kiss
of that which I donate of self.
O’ how I long to continue on this plain to inherit such joy and earthly harvest! Yet, now
must only resurrect such as a dream.-
My voice that chimes out loud, as the earliest of temple bells- has cost me my garden of
splendors. Altho’ this has been of such curse, the gift has also bejewl’d my soul to cherish
that which I am certain, shall always remain divine.
Tomorro’ shall be my last witness of the sun’s golden veil, as I am taken before the
village masses.
When I am drug tho’ the streets to be fastened to my pole, I shall not avail their attempts
to desecrate me, as they cleanse my dirt with their spit- but I shall dance upon the ocean’s
tides that grace the shores
where lilacs grow wild, and angels echo my name to paint the horizon.
; And when I am erected upon my cross, and their unholy flames bite at the brush below
my feet as they proclaim their last rites, and command-
‘Confess before us witch, and thro’ the eyes of the Almighty, and the church- you shall be
released!’
I shall raise my head high, and thro’ my parched blood-laden throat reply-
‘Brand my flesh with the order in which you govern- For the possession of my body I
bestow to you as a symbol. That which cannot be tarnish’d from your flames,
reside within my breast, and shall not be held mute by any tongue; not even that,
which is my own.
I speak from the vines which birth forth the fruits of poetry, to enslave my spirit with
psalms, eternal! So lay your torch, executioner, to feast upon my bones- For I do
not exist before the courts, nor the church- as my spirit is but my scripture,
and scripture is, as it shall always remain- free.’
Am I a martyr, or merely a chosen seed, sown to die for the voices- that are yet to be?
HURT
Sounds of anger pour forth
-off the blade of his poison fork
A tongue birthed of malicious seeds
Relentless despair, burrow’d against the roses I breathe
Why does such teeth severe flesh
Upon the tender breast of the meek, sincere?
We the cursed plea for mercy b’fore the slaughter-
Our cries piercing thro’ the invasion of wrath stenched air-
Can his jaws not stifle from the feast-
When blood seeps in the form of tears?
A stream which screams the evidence of his name
-Shall forever be carved within the wounds which he creates
Countless mirrors have shatter’d
Within the very frames which they decorate
To reveal splattered reflections-
Which mock my name with waste, and self-disgrace
The shards are reminders that I shall never be whole;
and that pain shall defy the healing to ever disinigrate
Claustrophobia- is the dreams that seize
For the walls entomb the euphoria which surrounds me
Shall this moment be the last vile act that consumes me;
or- shall the beast release my sorrow,
Allowing me the hour of peace
-so that I may wipe my tears, and attempt to finally sleep?
WHEN SUMMER FALLS ALSEEP
What is this moment of stillness which looms upon autumns’ breath?
Tis’ not the strike of saddened wind thro’ the erect crowns which grace the trees-
but exists within my very soul, as tho’ loss, and awoken change dares to whisper in grey.
This imposter, which I cannot reveal- consumes the meadows below-
where my spirit, so often seeks refuge to escape.
A mood, of blank- impedes, not that of tears, nor that of laughter; but of a melancholy
type of curious- comparing only to the naked touch upon a wrought iron gate in the dead breath of winter.
I wipe a lost tear, altho’ the contents of this wet birth does not bid purpose to the icy
intrusion upon my warm cheek- I welcome the cleansing.
For these are the moments which our flesh has been given pardon to feel the kisses from
our soul, and accept that- we are.
I hear 'them' move about; the 'others' which share my likeness.
I hear 'them' amongst the -hush.
The hush, is a song which speaks of transition in mourning, yet celebrates natures’ right of passage.
I wonder, as the hush whispers thro’ the decaying, paper- skin, of dying leaves; do 'they',
can 'they', also hear the prophecy sing?
A bird to my knowledge, clothed in white, takes flight across this gossamer stream-
Is he such as I, capturing the essence of sorrow, or is the compass of his wings a symbol-
to where ceremony should belong?
My reflection within, now illumes as I bestow this message of traverse measure, to accept
this recourse- eluding the ray of grim, and to praise the motion of the sea
which unfolds overhead, and underfoot.
For the eulogy adrift before my eyes has been sent forth to announce the season now
shall sleep; not because the hush of the wind sings of change, but simply
because even the seasons must gently lay to rest- so they too, can dream.
AMANDA‘S SWING
Underneath the boughs of an old oak tree
There sits a young girl, on a swing where she dreams
Of land without warnings-
A place she can hide
With hope to reach the angels
Higher she glides, eyes closed tight
-maybe today if she can swings high enough she’ll disappear into the sky
‘Maybe today they will take me before tonight’
The other children on the playground
Unaware, they sing riddles and play-
Of Amanda’s blanket of sorrow, and the rescue for which she prays
'Am I a ghost
Created to hurt?
Am I a lost princess
Born without any worth?
Why do they laugh
;and skip so free?
Do they not know fear
;and wear the same wounds as me?
Would ‘they’ believe me
-if I told them my truth?
Or would they deceive me
;and blame imagination and youth?'
Then she could hear her mother’s words still etched in her mind-
“To speak my name, would be public disgrace”
As she sneered the warning-
"Then you my dear, will bare those scars upon your face!"
'How can I cry for help
When my tongue has been snipped not to scream?
Will I ever find childhood
When I have been stifled to dream?'
The bell of the school house rang loud
Recess has come to a close
For a moment Amanda waits-
To see if an angel calls
'Help me, please.'
She fixes her strands to mask the bruises
Then she walks to the doors
For these are the marks scorned
When a bad girl does not finish her chores
Later that night in her cell
Amanda hears her mother shriek her name with command
Then the thunder of footsteps drum down the hall
Before she bursts open the door, with razor strap in hand
Amanda tries to cover quickly
Her tiny arms, her only shell
The strap crashes forward
Like a kiss sent from hell
Amanda whimpers- but knows not to cry
For brave little girls are not weak-
;and Amanda would rather die
Then leave mother satisfied
She pretends her silent tears are rose petals
As the bloody pools stream down her face
With the hope that the Winds of Peace will come-
To lift the hurt, and carry them far away
'My prayers have been answered'
She thinks as her flesh becomes numb
Then her sights befell darkness
;and she heard her angels come
While the strap continues to lash
She lifts her body to kneel- and rose her arms high
Then she felt the Angel of Mercy’s wings wrap around her-
As he took her spirit gently, ascending into the sky
Yes, the angels were listening to a young girls plea-
For underneath the boughs of an old oak tree
Swaying in a breeze now empty is- Amanda’s special swing
This poem won a contest for Kenneth Wooden
Please Visit His Site
childluresprevention.com
DEATH SPEAKS SWEETLY; BENEATH A BED OF BLEEDING ROSES
;and drink of my wine for eternity
Be not ‘marrow’s hand of time
Shan’t severe stillness upon heart’s despair
Whisper promises in the depth of solitude, deeply
Side by side, within soil bound, hollow
To sing a symphony within my stone ear-
Of the moments in which we have shared
[I]Shall the raven recite the truth
-When ‘they’ ask for such knowledge to find our where?
Shall the moon reveal our secret
-When vines grow thick to obscure our coven?
Join me now in our veil of ashes and lace
Precious this crypt; temple of sanctuary-
Our garden which shan’t honor time
For this is the church forbidden, love- to where we shall hide
[I]Hail before our union design, and lend not in the bell-keepers' chosen toll
- but allow that which is the holiest of death, to cleanse our vows-[/I]
My love, crawl beside me now-
In my earthly bed-chamber
Draw close my icy clasp to your warm breast attire
To become that which is but one, and reside eternal-
Beneath the blood-red roses
THE CURE, QUITE SIMPLY-
Love.
HOPE‘S ROPE
Radiant valleys of angelic intuition
Lilies on borrowed time-
Will their holy, holy become a memory
-or remain a precious thought design?
The bluest haze, of yet another day
Surfs across a carefree sky-
Will the sun wake with a kiss of raspberry- blush promise
-or will the flame rise to bake the earth to clay?
Children play upon a perpetual merry-go-round
Shrills drown out the sound of birds nursery rhyme lullabies
Do they dare step off the ride
-or spin, spin, spin, blurring the vision of Mother Earth;
Her apron held wide to invite them in?
Stranger walk, throwing spears as they speak
Of lonely hearts lost, and addictions which bring them peace
Who can justify a heart which bleeds unsatisfied
-a heart that dissolves from neglectful seeds scattered?
Not I, not I-
For I intrude to unleash my truth-
As to feed the chamber left vacant with my oath to replenish mercy
-and unbind the imprisoned spirits, to set the world free
If only I could tie a rope in a knot
-and cast the twine to capture love, and faith for mankind
All of those who held onto hope-
Could grab hold as one, and embrace
The hour passes, yet the moment remains unchanged
I ready myself to accept a sign-
That my notions will not become dormant, and starve in vein
When at last, I hear the crow of hope-
Which comes to call outside my door
I rush with haste to invite him to enter my sacred space-
However, as I open the door, the symbol falls dead at my feet
-poisoned from humanities sin, and fate!
+ Within his lifeless beak, a knotted rope dangles limp and- empty.+
HAND TO SPIRIT
Night- lends a silent light to guide the recluse of my mind-
The ancient gardens that bloom promises, whisper upon tongues of distant diamonds.
Above are indigo seas that bring such solace,
a rainbow with ribbons which are the deepest shade of wine- looms to pray.
I receive this moment of cherished bounty, released
As I outstretch my arms wide to allow this feast to embellish my soul.
I exist not- because I am;
For I exist because- we are.
We are-
The reason the stars ignite upon the hour.
The melody which calls upon the sun to awake.
The ocean which is heard thro' the boughs of the trees.
The trees which teach chorus to the oceans' rising waves.
The breath which resides within each tiny blade of grass.
The perfumed petals which dance within an uncharted breeze.
The spell which is cast by the earliest morning glow;
that powders the earth's path with gold.
We are-
The eyes of every beast.
The wings which adorn every bird.
The creatures which chant beneath our feet.
We are the soil-
We are the worm.
We are-
The clouds which pass; shifting to receive a new face.
The tears from the swollen sky, which we call upon as rain.
The mountains of high-
The meadows which play.
The stones underfoot-
The mighty cliffs of slate.
I am because you are-
And you are, that which is me.
Together we are the earth.
Hand to spirit- we are unity.
MY NAME
Allow me child to introduce myself-
Formally to grace your listening ear..
He said-
I am a dream-scape, awake mastered
To alleviate man's fear
I walk not within your footsteps
tho' I travel by your side
To wash away tears, fallen
Teacher of peace, where worlds collide
I am your true light companion
When blades of lost faith severs hope
Healer of unspoken wounds
The binder that knots love's rope
I have witnessed wrath thro' ages
Before your breath knew the dawn
I am the roar of a lion
I am the whisper of a fawn
The legend of my sacrifice
Etched in blood within your soul
Adhere to these laws of wisdom
To spare your ear of death's toll
If you shall need to call upon me
You need only to awaken
For it is I which surrounds you
When flesh has forsaken
Listen as the birds wake the dawn
Hear the hush within the trees
Feel the sun's breath upon your skin
The cool mist of a lost breeze
Have you ever danced in the rain
To feel the force of thunder?
Have you ever drank from a stream
To taste the earth's pure wonder?
I know that you have, my dearest-
I was there, beside you then
When you danced freely thro' the storms
; and asked the rain to never end
It was my hand from which you drank
My body, the streams water
-To bathe you in my sacrifice
-To quench your thirst, my daughter
My love when you shall fall alone
To suffer empty claim-
Call out to me my precious one-
Jesus Christ~ is my name!
THE READER, THE WRITER; THE WEB, AND THE SPIDER
The day was a mood of grey
Cast aloof under skies so blue
I sat on a bench for two
Writing, just to realize-
All the thoughts that seem obtuse
When the lead begins to cry
Then I felt him lean in closer
;and met his intrusive eye
Beside me he sat, relaxed
An open book adorned his lap
Neck stretched, trying to read my notes
As if lost, and I, the map
Excuse me, I sternly said
As I closed my journal fast
Is there something that you need?
With a laugh, he answered me at last-
Well I noticed that you write
The notion caught my attention
Perpetually, I am a student
Intrigued by a poets' devotion
I looked at him curious Then, sincerely I replied-
To live we must embrace devotion
To truly breathe, where we reside
If I may be so forward-
He said, politically
But what is the point of a tide
When it is just lost within the sea?
We only grow from lesson
These are facts for prosperity
Why waste precious time-
Recording love, hope, and charity?
What do you expect to gain
When the hand of time passes by?
Do you think your 'words' will hold you close
When poverty strikes, and proves poetry a lie?
I looked into his eyes, deeply
Two empty educated holes
Then smiled, and answered gently-
I refuse to hear times toll
You see dearest student-
Freedom is my chosen sun
To reflect not on laws of man
-but on the laws that make us one
Time to me, is a murderer
Killing who we are born to be
And you my angel, are a slave
Imprisoned by a false reality
My words are not meant to scorn
but rise up that one lost tide for all to see
For what has been lost, may always be found
Thro' the voice of love, hope, and charity
These intentions are valid
For survival of humanity
But darling, knowledge is power
And powerful, I long to be
I agree knowledge is power-
However, this treasure you already hold
For life has already blessed you my friend
With a spirit more precious than gold
Can you not realize your spirit light
That ignites your flame inside?
The same that dwells within the earth-
The same that finds that one lost tide
I am more concerned with facts
What can be proven, and what cannot
Everything else is just in theory
A story, without a plot
A story? How interesting
Our universal language
Without thoughts, there are no books-
Then you dear slave, would be stranded
The books I read are not tales-
Written of imagination
They are statements, proven
Not some poet's declaration
Yes, but these facts are written by man
With an undying thirst for life to sow
This is the DNA of a true poet
The same thirst in which, I know!
For a moment he fell silent
Then with a smirk, he finally said-
We shall agree to disagree
My curiosity has been fed
As I have said, I am a man of science
And you, a poetic heart
Neither of us can finish
A race we did not start-
I then opened my journal to write-
He opened his book to read-
This is the note I scribbled to him
My self-awareness in a folded poetic seed;
Dear Student,
Yes to disagree, I must agree
You see, I am the web; and you are the spider.
We each rely on the other to exist-
For you cannot be a reader- without me, who is the writer!
Sincerely yours,
The Poet
~~~
Just then, a lost tide from the sun
Streamed through the vast sea of grey
A gesture to thank, and congratulate me-
As I perched under a tree -alone, to write the lessons of my day-
We are all perpetual students
Some are the readers, and some are the writers-
We the writers, catch free thoughts within our web
To nurture the mind of the readers; for they -are the spiders
SYMBOLS
Lost inside- disposable haste
Searching for a blanket of peace
Society falls with cries erased
Within a land decorated for death-
Rivers of blood flow from the East
Sent to drowned unsuspecting ones
While we dance, dine and preach
Searching for the blanket of peace
The cock crows to warn of the feast
Doves are lifted by ordained hands for release
Rainbows reflect through tears of ash
The earth ascends to dominate the last
A girl of tender years attempts to pay for love
-she makes her wish upon a copper penny
Clenches the token within her tiny hand
-before an empty well, forgotten
Bellies swell from a starvation pill
Created by pharmacies who dine on wealth
Giants extinguish cigarette butts into the earth's clay
Under the soles of their Italian, woven suede
Ants scurry- ants hurry, to carry bricks upon their backs
Working the foundation before the storm- to last
Diligence is the master who creates the mound
To shelter from the rapture of the piercing crown
Mankind builds the towers which surround
Concrete achievements, for the serenity of lawless fiends
We are the colony; we are the ants
We answer to no-master as we construct our mounds
Why must we strive to plant iron seeds
Which grow high- to poison skies, waters, and trees?
We aspire to aspire, to escape our reality
Searching for the blanket of peace
Bruises on the backs of visionaries, without eyes
Live stock in breech of regulations, hormone injected meat-wagon suicide
Ocean ribbons of high-tide, leave afterbirth of plastic waves
While downstream children run barefoot and play, upon latex sand
Paws of dogs scar from glass shards, which sparkle like diamond collars
-crystallizing the land
We kneel before our mocha-latte double cappuccinos , and drive our SUVs
Searching for the blanket of peace
Once upon a time we imagined a song
A song of harmony
To breathe-
To love
To live
To be free
Yet, mind designs with prosperous intentions
Have set a path with soiled perceptions
A kingdom we began- with one solid stone
Continues to stack, and become our tomb
A girl of tender years attempts to pay for love
-she makes her wish on a copper penny
Clenches the token within her tiny hand
-before an empty well, forgotten
Upon the stone ledge she climbs
Draws in a breath deep, as she opens her arms to fly
Kisses the penny, and shuts her eyes tight
Her last word 'Amen'- and then she steps off the side
She is the cast symbol for mankind
A sacrifice lent to awake our sight
To breath, love, live, and be free;
We must never stop searching for the blanket of peace
IF ONLY
If a seashell which is cast ashore from an ocean of indigo true, imprisons the echoed songs of the deep
Then I too am a precious shell, for I bestow the moments of eve within the chamber of the spirit I complete.
I wondered, as I wandered throughout the blanket of meadows which unfold to sow-
About the spirit so royal, which dressed the stars in the sun's shimmer of gold.
O' how I wish I could perch upon the haze of clouds that ribbon the moon's glow-
To sing of a dream to the treetops, while they reach to touch the light of my soul.
Night-time butterflies frosted with the ash of Luna's powder-
Flutter disrupted as I pass, and settle upon flowers which behold the hour.
If only I could saddle between their wings-
I could take flight amongst orchids, and rest within a halo of twigs.
The restless ones call from a brush nearby-
Beckoning the pack for a mid- summer ride.
O' to inherit such legacy without boundaries upon land-
I would roam and set to drink from the streams, unknown to man.
The melodic howl alerts the innocent at play-
To seek solace within shadows that praise.
Passive creatures of the season scurry to nest-
While the wind captures the scent of distant rains which quench.
The caress of the breeze whispers against my face-
I inhale the bath of pureness, to taste.
Yes, this is what I most long to be-
The perfume of the earth, rivers, and trees.
I would dance upon the flesh, before a storm;
I would recite a lullaby within each child's open arms.
I would tickle the pastures, and sway along ivy;
Breathe a breath for hope through every locked entry.
If only, if only I were more than me-
I could bid salutations to earth's artist master.
Set to sail upon clouds woven of laughter.
Journey with butterflies, and slumber on feathers.
Run wild, and free with the wolves through forest rafters.
Discover the shelter in which nature invites.
Resurrect faith, and hope upon each scented night.
If only I were more than a keepsake cast to harbor treasures within my breast-
.. but I am merely a writer with thoughts to collect.
However, if you please, I shall fetch my pencil and parchment to take note of all that I long to be-
Then dearest, you can place your ear against my shell, and in spirit-
Come to dream with me.
HIDE AND SEEK
Waiting for you, restless I sleep
You come to me like silent seduction
Your lips brush against my ear, you whisper deep
-to touch my dream; 'Descibe your scent to me'
and I answer..
You are my garden.
Yes, I will tempt you with a reply
However, before I do-
Remove my layers of complexity
To avail my simple nakedness
My every curve shall meet your lick
My every crevice invade your kiss
Lift my arms to masquerade the sun-
To expose my flesh
To nurture your exploring wish
Tantalize my mystery, uncovered
I am your maiden, in waiting
Across your horizon, my sunset shall lay
To spread my rays for your bouquet
You see my dear, submission is how I play
To please your admission of pleasure, divine
Do you like the games which I play?
Can you not conceive my ocean of many waves-
I am but a child, trapped in the temple of a woman
I am but a woman, created of rose petals;
I shall open to be inhaled, when mastered precise
Do you like the games which I play?
Can you find me?
Slowly count to find where my sensual hides
Slowly count, while I part my thighs
Feel me writher against your search
I shall answer you now, my wicked love
My scent is that of innocent lust
The musk which rises to meet our storm
-Can you smell me?
-Do you want me?
-Come, and taste me
My storm has arose
My petals awoke
My turn-
Slowly I count, as I lure you in close
My lips against your ear, I whisper deep
-to touch your dream; Describe your scent to me
Ready or not, here I come-
A VOW TO CHERISH
I am cradled in the palm of necessity
O’ how I bare the fruit of your knowledge, so lovely
Yet still, I abate with hunger
To be nourish’d from your wine, mature
Blanket my absent sorrow when longing is the master of remembrance
Where shall I roam without the blue of your night?
I am but a stow-away lost within moments of your heart
Awaiting to be carried home to your arms
Come to my silent sleep
Forever wake my light
I lift my face to meet your kiss
Even if for a moment fleeting, once felt
I shall succumb to your promise when-
Kisses of rain awake the bounty of the earth
The leaves fall only to count the many
‘I love you’ whispers, which pass your lips, afar
Embrace the empty hours I am not near
For the captur’d breath in which we have shar’d
Is the eternal vow bound
Within the heart of true lovers- to cherish.
ONE WAY ROULETTE-DIARY OF AN ADRENALINE JUNKIE
So it has been said, ‘When you are closest to death, you feel the most alive...’
The only light in my compact church is the dim glow from the control panel, in which I
worship, as well as the two synthetic rays of sunshine which bounce off the wet
pavement.
My thought before the game is simple; not to think.
My thumb strikes against the small, metal wheel of my zippo- and a single flame ignites
to feed ‘the wick’ of my cigarette. I exhale the twirling, blue, smoke rings- and trace the
engraved words on the shell of my lighter case, ‘Daddy’s Angel’ -I smile, as I snap the
keepsake shut with a click.
I pull the visor down to take one last look at my reflection, just in case. My mane looks
like a halo of wild, emerald clouds in the ghostly light. I smooth the curve of my lips with
my tongue to taste the shine of my watermelon lip gloss- “my last supper,” I smirk, as I
gaze into my eyes, my father’s eyes. Oh, how I admire the inherited mixture of
anticipation, and fear which stirs in their depth at moments like these, the moments- just
before.
It is time.
My hand takes cover over the thick wand beside my thigh. Slowly, I travel down the
metal shaft, recording every ‘indention’ with my fingertips. The stretch of highway that
lay ahead, appears to grow narrow into nothing but a black slate, which pleads for a story-
my story, to be written with the rubber from my Mustang’s hooves upon its hard surface.
My eyes shift to study the rusted BB holes which spot the backside of an old sign, to my
left. I know what the front of the metal rectangle warns; once again, I remind myself not to think.
My hand glides up the vibrating stick, this moment should not be taken to quickly, for I
have always felt the time 'before', should be as memorable as foreplay can allow-
especially when one is entertaining, one-self.
Just as my hand caresses the cushioned, leather knob at the top, I lock my fist tight and
shift into ‘D’, pressing the accelerator down with a fast sweep with my bare foot.
My tires lick the slick pavement, then bolt forward with command! My heart begins to
dance, my navel begins to swim, I love this.
The sticky, hot, fingers of summer tease through my tresses, and loose strands whip at my
face and neck. The loud crackle of the engine sings with music I live to hear- I would die
to hear.
"More. I want more, just let 'her' do it for you," I whisper-
as a giggle escapes, and I increase the speed, wrapping both hands firm around the wheel.
The tar-dressed street is now the barrel of my gun, and I am the bullet. I curl my toe
around the flat lever, and press down further.
The gallop of the Mustang levels to an even hum, as the fuel releases through pulsing
veins, to quench the valve’s waiting, open mouth, and intoxicate with the
flow- which I pine to taste.
I dare not look at the speedometer. I dare not look away from the road. I am forced into
submission by horsepower, as my back is pressed hard against the seat, like a human
magnet.
The painted margins on either side of the roadway ignite and twitch with quick flashes, ‘a
little more, just a little… more.’ I can feel the petal now tap against the floor, and I pray
the road won’t change direction- yet, I pray the road will.
Beads of icy sweat begin to cry down my forehead and breast. The rhythm of my breath
races to catch time with my heartbeat, as my bullet sears to slice the night, driven by the
adrenaline gods themselves!
The moment I have craved, the moment of my elation has arrived! I reach blindly for a
Marlboro- and don’t feel my zippo. I glance down for just a few seconds and retrieve the
small, gold, box, ‘Daddy’s Angel’-again, I smile. I return my gaze to the black, open
spread of highway- to find a pair of demon eyes are staring straight back at me, like two
burning coals of white death! My last thought, don’t think, and my bullet shoots the
beast,
right between the eyes.
So it has been said, ‘When you are closest to death, you feel the most alive…’Yes, you
do- until you die.
TWILIGHT IN THE GARDEN
The breath of the hour, clothed dense in dew’s attire
Clings about my face; a violet mask, of the exotic kind
The serpents' chorus to court, earthly masters which toil-
Intoxicate a lent ear
Canopies entwine to display, caves that braid
For the darkness to bestow- silhouette lace
Within thy breast, a touch held to adorn
This fruit, untamed
Seeds appease to penetrate, deep
Conceive crowns which birth forth, to nurse upon the moon’s wine
To dwell within such decadent kind
Of a vine’s bodice embrace
Is but true, sublime splendor- enthralled
The hour within the garden;
Where the things of the wild kind, grow
FALLEN
Do you remember~
My letters to you, which whispered of the dawn?
The passages opened for- what we have not become.
Do you still reflect on my spirit, restless-
When the birds call to you in the waking moons?
I was once your divine, now I am the angel who weeps.
I stood outside your window today-
Only to listen to you recite.
I hid myself well, behind the great rose-vines
-just to taste once more, the scent you inhale.
My mind holds stern;
This is my virtue-
My heart bleeds upon your hands;
This is my suffering
My voice is held mute;
Yet, still I call your name.
Do you remember~
When you would lift me high above the earth- to spread my delicate wings?
Today, I tried to fly without you
-but my wing has been broken..
GLIMPSE OF A SEASON
I walk along the narrow banks of ‘what has been‘, to search for ‘what use to be‘. A pool
that whispers promises of tomorrow, casts not my reflection of ‘what could have been‘;
but mirrors ‘what has become‘.
The Song of Echoes, mock from the breast of owl held breech, which clings to the great
tree of wisdom; who are you, who were you, who-?
If the sun dares to kiss my face to discover breath anew-
why then, have I not captured the phase of the passing moons?
Upon the shores, afar; I see ‘her’
I know this spirit, so fair; although she has not yet, met me.
To beckon her, I recite the farewell lyrics of a weeping rose who mourns the end of her
season. I sing of the blossom petals which carry upon the wind to decorate the heavens,
for eternity.
-The spirit memory appears before me.
Her beauty is laced with innocent mystery.
The fragrance of laughing lilacs, her youth.
Her smile, the first taste of wild berries, warmed with early morning sun.
Every diamond which embellishes a night sky, ignites the wonder in her gaze.
She is the blessing of an open meadow.
She is the sands which write the tales of time, beneath my feet.
She is me- when I was.
She offers her hand for one final dance.
Barely do I kiss her fingers, as she tilts her face to the heavens and begins to cry.
The tears which fall from her eyes, are that of my wishing stars.
I quickly reach out to catch them, and she evolves into a shimmer of rain; returning to the
dust of the earth, with the whisper of a lost waterfall.
I realize now, that my visit upon these sands, shall not be my last.
Although my season for ‘what could have been’ has come to an end, my search for
‘what
is yet to be‘, shall always remain.
As wisdom etches another symbol upon my brow-
I attempt to find my path upon the shore, which has lead me to this moment.
However, the footprints of my journey, have forever been washed away- by the tides of
yesterday.
AWAKE- TO FLY
The night pristine, whispers distance-
The night is clothed in garment of change
Does not the watchman which resides in the moon-
not notice my tears which bleed about the pavement?
I cannot ride upon the waves majestic;
when the oceans arms refuse to meet my feet
Who shall rescue me when the only solace I know, truly-
is but the embrace within the branches to which I confide?
I wake unable, to comprehend evolution
I wake unwilling, to comprehend man-kinds’ solutions
Who am I, which rise to behold each rising sun?
Who am I, who awakes to unfold within the moons’ love making?
Time.
Time has proven sinister
Placing me to carry out my breath within a space which is void
Time is a deceiver-
For to gaze upon his ticking face, I shall view his expired intentions
Who mocks the air and tranquility, to inhale the blossoms of today;
of yesterday- of tomorrow?
It is I, who mocks such with every breath of wonder I seek-
in a world I am convinced is not my own, but yet, I lien to exist upon
I call to the earth
-she is there
I cry to the heavens
-I am answered
I walk along the path blind
-and it illuminates before my sights
Still my eyes choke on the intruder of device
There, upon a stem of a wild orchid-
I spy a thick, woven, chamber
O’ how the fibers radiate from the kiss of the moon’s glow
The dome appears to almost be that of an angel lost, which clings to hope
This ghostly sanctuary, is but blessed
For the house needs not concern with the elements just outside the door
It neither suffers the rapture of the storm; nor the cries of fate
A waiting heartbeat is but the only sound heard, within those walls
My eye stings as another tear begins to skate across my lower lashes
As it forms a trail down my cheek-
I know that it shall be my last taste of sorrow in this matter
For now I have become aware, all that is I
I am-
Nothing more than a caterpillar, awaiting my release-
Dwelling within my cocoon of flesh,
I too, am woven of precious design
I shall cherish this hour, until my spirit is set free
Until my spirit awakens, to become-
all that is.. A butterfly
SONG OF A ROSE
I shall lend my ear today, to listen to the secrets of a tiny blossom.
Perhaps, she shall sing to me a melody forgotten.
I shall lift my face within the earliest hours of morn'-
Just to be kissed upon my brow, by the sincerest moments of warm.
Should I stumble, and fall to the ground, as I run the meadows that grace my day-
I shall thank the earth for my fortune, as I meet the stillness, and lay to capture the scent of rain.
And if my path should be obstructed by a great oak tree-
'Tis his branches I shall climb into, for the knowledge he whispers, sweetly.
Should I-
Could I-
dare to dance upon the wings of a storm?
Will I-
Won't I-
reach for the sunset, when I fear the breath of harm?
Yes-
I will stand, when the foundation beneath me begins to cave.
Not because I set to ruin-
but because I lent my ear to the melody sung by the tiny blossom, of today.
A MAN, REMEMBER‘D
With a cardboard sign held tight
There he stood, rugged and old
Veteran Please Help! -inscribed
Yet no story, need be told
Vehicles passed the road side
Each pretending not to see-
The hero, left forgotten
The hero, who fought for you and me
I reached into my open purse
Randomly choose a crisp, green, note
Eye’d the president's profile
;and the words government wrote
In God We Trust, the bill claim'd
I wonder’d if that held true-
For a man that owned no land
That would die for red, white, and blue
My son was my companion
That day by the super-store
Ten years old, and full of hope
He ask’d, 'Can’t we give him more?’
I smiled as I pulled over
The man came beside my car
His face was desprate and drain'd
His clothes worn, and stain’d with tar
I offer’d him ten dollars
‘Bless you‘, I quietly said
My son asked, 'Are you homeless?’
With pride he then shook his head
His voice was cracked from the sun
Tho’ clearly we heard his reply
‘As long as I can walk this land-
I have a home under the sky’
‘I am sorry’, my son then said
As a tear filled his blue eye
‘I am sorry, you fought for me’
;and then, began to cry
The man stared at us awhile
Gently, closed his hand on mine
‘Son, I would do it all again-
So you’ll never have to hold this sign’
I held his hand to my cheek
I could feel his tatter’d flesh
He studied both our faces
To lock this memory fresh
My son rose one last question-
Before we told him goodbye..
‘Excuse me sir, when is your birthday?’
‘Son- it is every Fourth of July.’
LISTEN
They spoke of the sun
Of the moon
~and the stars
They preached of the soil
Of the rivers
~and the creatures of the sea
They whispered secrets of blossoms
Of the meadows
~and bursting gardens
I heard them chant of angels
Of snowflakes
~and the rain
They sang of the birds
Of the animals
~and the insects
They called to the heavens
To the dawn
~and the sunset
They told of storms
Of the tears
~and solitude which follows
The trees spoke today
They spoke of love
Of brotherhood
~and peace on earth
The trees spoke today
I listen'd
They spoke of me
and.. of you
MEET ME THERE
-Let in the first moments of dawn
Open the sash on the window, brother
-We shall return where we are strong
Listen, to the ghost’s story
Whistling the waltz of our past
The flame within his lantern
Reflects the truth, behind our mask
Can the sun create colors thro’ the mist
When our heart is left un-kept?
How can our hand- held flowers bloom
When in the rain, is where we are left?
Meet me where the willows touch
In the land of butterflies
This is the road lit for the lost
For children with unheard cries
When we close our eyes
We can open our sights-
Join me brother, in our field
Where the strawberries run wild, and free
The birds laugh our name in yellow
Where we drift on a blanket breeze
Can you still see me, my dear-
Dressed up in lilacs of velvet?
Will you still remember me when-
The snow blows over our sunset?
‘If I should lay me down to sleep’
Ever- so gently, sing me our song
Of two babes, that went lost in the woods
; and learn that peace, is where they belong
When we close our eyes-
We can open our sights
MIRROR, MIRROR IN THE SKY
Reflect within myself
The truth that is myself
Against the march of time
I search to find the sun
Reflect within the sun
The truth that is the sun
Breathes the scent of found rain
To seek, I invite change
What is same, must change
Who I am; shall lead change
To be- who I become
I search to find myself
Reflect within myself
The truth that is myself
Shall become- rain of time
Against the march of time
Breathes the scent of found rain
To be- who I become
Shall become- rain of time
REIGN PAST THE STORM
To lace a drum of sorrow, upon ears
Of a time past, which ceases to demise
To reflect such an image, thro' lost tears
Who dares seek truth with absence of the sun-
When the spindle of age bids to be spun?
'Tis I who shall stand, to embrace sunrise
O' precious be, the voice of rain which cries
WELCOME TO THE TEA PARTY
Little Miss Mary May
sits in the sunshine to play
Singing a summer tune
; about ladybugs of June
In the Kingdom of Waking Dream
things are not, as things should seem
A hillside crest, made of stone
hides a castle, with a throne
Rolling meadows are enchant’d due to secret wishes grant’d
Whimsical, laughing, butterflies
; are costumed fairies in disguise
The ruby-red apple tree nearby
grows ruby-red apples that can fly
Honey bees stroll about a blossom course
riding on the back of a sunflower horse
Mary lifts her china pot
to splash tiny cups with a spot
; of golden, magic, young-heart tea
-which only purest eyes can see
Her guest, a doll that is so fair
yellow ribbons garnish her silk hair
Dressed formal, with frills and lace
A timeless smile paints her face
'Dear would you like some cream?'
Laughs Mary, with a gleam
She stares and waits for a reply-
The doll nods her head, then winks her eye
A blue bird has came low to perch and sing
Tis' a message in song, sent by Waking Dreams' king
A note about clocks, that tick without time
Of bells that toll, but do not chime
Summer days that always will last
; and yesterdays, without a past
Where a talking rabbit drives a train
; and rose petals fall, instead of rain
Gardens reap with sugar lemon drops
Fields with rows of candy-corn crops
Kittens hatch out of tiny, daisy eggs
Rainbows walk about, on wide-arch’d legs
The frogs begin to strum cricket guitars
; as the moon awakes to dance with the stars
Sheep leap across a topaz sky
numbered for the sleepy eye
Clouds form into wispy ships and drift
upon a dream where lazy tides shift
A fog-horn blows to bid goodnight, to day
The kingdom sets to sail upon Milky Way
Little Miss Mary may
sets in the Sunshine to play
Singing a summer tune
; about ladybugs of June
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Remember my dearest ones~
Your heart shan’t ever grow old
When you sit in the sunshine to sing
; and sip magic tea, brew’d with purest gold
*Would you like me to pour you a cup??*
SUMMER LULLABY
Embers within a ring of stone reside
-to paint the wood with the glow of sunset
Crickets chime their chant
Beckoned is the wise owls concerto
Cast under a hue of velvet
-deepest and true
The night sky seems
-to wink and bloom
I wonder
I wonder
If I close my eyes tight,
-shall I hear the song of the moon?
Entwined with the scent of wildest rose and clover
A love letter arrives
-delivered by the wind’s messenger
A caress to my cheek
A tickle upon my ear
The words ‘I love you’
-sweetly linger
The trickling gallop
-from a brook nearby
Invites me to dance
-upon a night’s tide
Imagine
Imagine
Twilight butterflies as they dip into the rippling waters
-and attempt to capture liquid diamonds;
So they may spin their wings to gold
Two silver pearls shine
-thro’ a curtain made of glades
My sights hold curious
-I watch my spy hide
In a blink of an eye
A trick of the moon
The tall glades twitch, quick
-and my visitor peers.. no more
The hushed chorus of the trees reminisce of the days gone by
The forest echoes with sound
-of a rolling sea at play
I gaze at the boughs melodic waves
The season’s warm kiss adorns me with her gentle
-forget-me-not;
Tis’ The eternal rhythm that enchants the land
The garden which graces the iridescent sky
The perfume laced within a seeking breeze
The pirates that attempt to catch treasures of the moon
Tis’ The lawless ones, who parade in shadows
The decadent which offer their chamber
The ancient kings who share tales of the sea
-within the voice of their leaves
Tis’ I, whom sets sail- upon a raft of cool grass
-to slowly drift away, and embellish a dream
For these are the moments of remembrance
For this is the lullaby of summer
BLUE
~While you slept during the darkest moments of blue?
Blue, is the river of thoughts which bathe my mind
O’ how I long to convey these written words to you
~Yet, I remain silenced
Silenced, while I witness an eclipse of torment,
~Suffocate the light within your eyes
Your eyes, how they hold the promise of the sun
Yet, the mass fury of destructive storms
Storms shall always dissipate, my beautiful angel
We may find truth, within tranquility that shall follow
Follow my voice; when you fear you are lost
Listen with gentle ears as I call for you
~to take my hand
My hand, altho’ sometimes weak;
Shall be forever open for your embrace
~To guide you thro’ the sifting sands of time
Time; the hope in which we cling
The hope, that within the mysteries of this escaping gift
~You shall heal
Heal your wounds, and be brave
When the wrath of life‘s blade cuts deep, my dear
For the scares that are to follow
~Shall lend us strength
Strength is a virtue of peace
Thro’ peace; we are able to confront pain
Do not fall victim to the uninvited pain
Pain; the force that shall keep you seeking comfort
Let me blanket you in the arms of my security
Security in truth is our choice, my love
I know the mountains you struggle to climb
As also, I know the moments you fall from grace
Grace your path with stepping stones
~ Of my love, unconditional
May your wisdom and compassion, flourish
~Within each placement of your steps
Your steps, altho’ unsure
Have brought me pride
~From the first, tiny, footprints that kissed this world
This world, shall prove to be the greatest challenge before you
Always remember my child; even when I am gone
~I will always wipe away your tears
Your tears, are that of art
So many have painted your face
Each drop, a perfect song
A perfect song which echoes of your trials
Cleansing your suffering
~Upon every new beginning
A new beginning, is written each moment of your precious existence
Within the warmth of your smile; and thro’ the blessing of your laughter
Your laughter, etches lyric of who- I am
This poetry is the key, which unlocks the purest keepsakes of my heart
The keepsakes of my heart, complete my identity
This identity came to be; the precious hour in which I became, Your mother
Mother is;
The living portrait of an open rose
The scent of an awoken field; after a spring rain
The healing touch within a gentle kiss
The exquisite love, so divine; seen thro' the eyes of a child
I am;
Your guardian earth-angel
Your protector; when shadows come to call your name
Your defender; from the ignorant, that do not understand
The meaning of forgiveness; when my tears fade to faith
Share the songs of your heart with me, My Son
For I inherit the greatest of tidings
When I hear you whisper; I love you, too
~During the darkest moments of blue
*I love you, Joey*
TO GAZE
Beside the azure, crystal, stream
Sun laughing throughout her hair
Dandelions kissing her knees
She hums a song, familiar
Her mother once loved to sing
A song meant for her smile
Her name was the melody
Carefully, she plucks the petals
One by one, off the daisy’s crown
Thinking of ‘love me, love me not’
Releasing the tokens upon the ground
Her sky painted eyes sparkle
From the light of secret keys
Which unlock earth’s treasure
When tears lace her soft cheeks
Although, the rapture of storms will rise
On her hillside, where sunflowers speak
She adorns a blessing beside her heart
-A crucifix, with dried, rose beads
She studies the clouds play masquerade
While they sail across a lazy sky
Curiously, they shift to change shape
Silently, she wonders deep inside~
-Why could I not be born a bird,
To soar with open arms, so free?
I would decorate each sunset;
And get lost within a night breeze
-Why can I not be dressed with wings,
To harbor the beauty of a dove?
Why is my gift, soil beneath my feet,
Has my flesh not suffered enough?
Then, windows of her eyes wept sorrow
-Like two panes that frame melting, stained glass
She raises her arms and face, to heaven
Worship renews her spirit at last
She can hear the calling whisper
-Of the wind caress the trees
Inhales the scent of blossoms
-While the earth beneath her breaths
I watch her set there, lovely
Beside the azure, crystal, stream
Sunlight laughing throughout her hair
Dandelions kissing her knees
I look for just a moment longer
Into the reflection, which is.. me
Dip my finger to twirl the water
To gaze at my spirit, dance in peace
CONFESSIONS OF A POET
Here I lie on my bed made for two.
Belly down in His favorite shirt, my favorite shirt.
Blonde hair in a tangled mess tumbling down my back,
spilling over my shoulder and face.
A candle burns on my bedside table. Sandlewood.
Cigarette burning in a dish on the edge of the bed.
I only smoke when I am like this.
When I write.
The words force with convictions, yet with no sense of purpose
I form the symbols as they conceive with no certain direction, coming from a curse which impends.
Yet still manifests as my greatest gift.
The words come faster now.
A smile crosses my lips. I feel a shutter come from deep inside my navel.
I know this aphrodisiac well, and the sensual euphoria it owns.
Forever marking my thoughts, and pouring through my fingertips
to leave its impression always written, and tattooed on my soul.
Scratching imagery on paper as quickly as I breathe.
My hand cannot catch my thoughts fast enough.
I race to catch up in fear that the story will be forever lost.
I know keys would be less pain and faster, but a pencil to me is quite melancholy.
Forcing one to work for their supper.
A tiny lead stained bump on my middle finger stings with every stroke of my wooden tool.
I relish the bittersweet pain.
As the ending to my series of epic self-gratification begins to unfold, I feel a chill run through my body from deep within. A warmth washes over my skin, making my pulse quicken.
Yes, there it is.
It is almost there!
How shall it end?
No. Dont force the words.
Let them come, Let then come.
And they do.
I slide my tongue over my lips in anticipation. I catch my breath.
A slight giggle escapes my throat, like a child with a secret to tell.
My heart is beating fast now.
Faster! Even Faster yet!
My fingers ache as I near the end. My breath catches in my throat,
and for only a moment I close my eyes.
Atlas, the final release. So sweet.
A tear fills my dialated eye as I write the last word...
FIN.
I lay my head down on my private masterpiece for only a moment.
The candle flickers.
The bedroom door slowly opens.
I shift to one side, lift my messed hair away from my face,
and look up at Him with my glassy green eyes. He says I am the most beautiful when I am like this.
When I write.
Then he said", Lets Make Love."
I take a long drag from my cigarette, slowly exhale.
With a sultry smile I reply,"Im sorry my love, for I already have."
COME WALK WITH ME
Undress me in the corridors of utopia.
Watch the warmth of the sun bathe over my skin.
Lay me down in meadows of green velvet.
Cover me in butterfly kisses,while the wind softly caresses us and sings our song.
Let your body be my tree,and I, the vines.I will wrap all of who I am around you,until our souls entwine.I shall blossom tiny flowers for you,just so you can be filled with my scent.
I long to taste your nectar,to let your honey drip down my lips.You quench my thirst like purest morning mist.
May the strong roots of all you are,drive deeply into me,so for all of time we shall be joined forever,and be as one.
My Sweetest Love,may I beg of you now-----
Would you come and walk with me?
RAG DOLL
Choose Me.
Here I sit upon this darkened sill.
Dust my meadow,cobwebs my forest.
Waiting for you to draw near.
I long for you to become my Master,
-and I your plaything.
Hold Me.
Wrap your fingers on my fiber woven flesh.
Mold me as if my body were clay.
Sculpting me to become your precise fit.
I am incomplete,an unfinished creation.
Grip my form,so I will forever belong in you hands.
Own Me.
Make me only yours.
Etch your name on the canvas of my skin,
leaving your mark with a ravenous kiss.
The stroke of your breath branding my secret places.
Dress Me Up.
Undo my buttons.Dress me in crimson silk.
Lace up my stockings,the way you like it.
You alone control our unbridled imagination.
I alone,am your shameless object of desires.
Lead me to your darkest corners,
and I shall fill you with undying lucid light.
Pose Me.
Let you gently move my body to play your game.
My Master,for I shall always let you conquer me,
as I desire only to be your private conquest.
Dance With Me.
Lift me up into your arms,let me inhale your essence.
Hold me tight against the contour of your body.
We will dance to your amorous mortal orchestra of rapture.
Yes,Play Me.
You my Master, are truely the maestro of my wanton song,
and I,your instrument holding every note for your suductive measure.
Your delusion-conceives my reality.
Lay Me Down.
Lead me gently to your bed of promises.
Whisper carnal secrets in my ear,for I will never tell.
By your side,I will stay always and watch you sleep,
with each breath you take I long to penetrate your soul.
To share your heartbeat,without yours mine exists not.
Choose Me.
Let me be your Mistress and satisfy your persuasion.
The Angel you long to taste.
The Saint that absolves your sin.
The Gatekeeper of your thoughts.
Here I sit upon my darkened sill.
Dust my meadow,cobwebs my forest.
Choose Me.
Take me now,and I avow solemnly,
that for all the sands of eternity I will always remain,
~your little RagDoll.
BIRTHDAY LULLABY
Crouching in a corner, my sanctuary.
My false paradise of claustrophobic damnation.
Nails on my hand as sharp as razors, dig deep into the flesh of my knee.
Tearing the skin
into four deep, thin scratches.
First, they bead up with small pearls of blood before
streaming crimson stripes down my thigh.
The act confirming my existence through pain.
I can not help but to giggle slightly,
as I watch the drops slowly form, and then competein
a race for first place on my alabaster course.
Do you know what today is?
Today is my birthday.
As it was yesterday, and will be tomorrow.
I shall have a party tonight!
Lithium and Thorazine will fill small,
white,paper dessert cups that grace my dinner tray.
The meal will be set in my honor, on a table that mimics a mirror.
This way, I may
entertain my many guests, as I look into my reflection.
Question.
-A birthday,is a celebration on the day
of ones release from the maternal womb,into
the journey we call life.
So why is there not a celebration of Deathday?
Ones release
from our mind into a journey of perpetual rest?-
Loneliness is sorrows maddening companion.
The duo joined as one, harboring within.
Drawing their strength from roots that quench their undying thirst from my mind.
The act leaving my own thoughts constantly parched.
I look through eyes sewn shut.
My seamstress, has been life's unlearned lessons.
My eyes, the windows to my soul, chronically burn.
The condition is due to forcing my eyelids to stay open as to keep awake,
so I will not fall asleep and dream.
Question.
-Is not a dream an undiscovered conquest of who we are meant to be?
If so, then why do my dreams drowned where ships of lost hopes sail in the depths of
fevered nightmares?-
Shh!!I hear a faint humming.
I think it is a lullaby.
Yes, I feel the reminiscent melody vibrating in my chest.
The notes escaping through my skin.
I remember.
Oh, how I remember.
Cradling my knees,
I begin to rock back and forth on my heels gently to the melancholy song.
A tear falls from my weary eye,
spilling down my cheek.
The salty liquid burning an impression on my skin.
As it reaches the corner of my mouth,
I whip my tongue to the side of my lips and quickly catch it.
Bringing the saddened moisture back into my body,
where it belongs-where it needs to stay.
Question.
-Why do people in the position to govern security to the young,
familiarize impressionable minds with sounds,
and objects in direct relation to establish secure foundations.
To then, only abandon their manipulated,
human experiment-with said,such memories.
Which then in part, becomes an anchored pain to the brains sensory perception?
Why?-
I tilt my head up to view the chalk-colored,plaster ceiling.
It has become my sky of white serenity.
Within this pure existence,there are two subjects present.
A long, jagged, black, crack stretched thinly across the far corner.
In the center of the sky,
an over-sized round lamp with a metal cage that covers the glass front.
The crack resembles knitting needle shaped legs of a giant spider.
The lamp, fills the room with a dimly, yellow, glow of rot.
There is an industrial buzzing sound which penetrates the silence.
I know the sounds identity.
It is a demon that will eventually come to steel away my breath in the darkness.
The light flickers.
I blink to adjust my bloodshot stare.
Something moved.
I seen it!
I must escape before the dark closes a blanket on my low set form.
I extend my arms to the floor,
using my fingertips for support to crawl out of my self-made pit.
A searing pain shoots through my right hand.
My index fingernail has bent backward.
It broke off clean in one sharp snap!
Blood instantly skates across my finger.
Compulsively, I reach out and snatch up the broken off nail from the wood floor.
The torn piece is now painted with my fresh red bio-polish.
Jumping back into my sanctuary,
I place the fingernail in my pocket for safe keeping.
It is my birthday present.
An anxious, panic washes over me.
My eyes fix on the stark white sky above.
The long black spidery legs begin to slowly grow.
They twist and reach towards my corner haven.
The spider tips are searching for me.
Hunkering down, I push my back hard against where the two walls meet.
"Please don't find me.
"I whisper.
I look to the caged lamp for help,pleading silently with my eyes.
Suddenly, the cage melts into the light.
The lamp becoming a warm, loving sun.
I can feel the rays caress my face.
The warmth of security covers me completely for a moment.
Promises of cottoncandy,and carousels fill my mind and delight my senses.
My plea had been heard.
-I close my eyes and breath.
Ah!
Chaos, without warning.
A buzzing sound fills the air!
The sunshine, my sunshine flickers.
Then again! I cover my ears tightly with my hands.
Maybe if I don't hear the buzzing, then perhaps the sun will stay!
"Please."I quietly cry.
I squeeze my eyes tight for only a moment.
I feel my oxygen supply beginning to thin.
My breath quickens.
Temperature rising, there is cool sweat upon my upper lip and brow.
I look to the sky to rescue me-but the sun no longer shines.
It has been captured.
The spider has put a prison around my sun, to keep it from loving me.
Question.
-Why in our western civilization,
do human beings feel more empowered when they possess our natural resources?
With such purchases are they not indulging in a god-complex type society,
which in turn will then change mankind's
realistic ideals of themselves and future generations?-
The demon has won.
Surely.I will die.
Suffocate in the black pillows that are coming for my breath.
Today shall be my Deathday.
Will they sing Happy Birthday at my funeral?
Will there be roses or black balloons?
My heart palpitates hard steady rhythms.
Teeth grind like sandpaper made of bone in my jaw.
My mouth dries at once, as if my tongue where a giant sponge absorbing
all the tears that I have tasted.
Darkness growing from the spider cracks,
spreading like diseased veins on an aged beauties legs.
I feel warm liquid run down my legs, pooling around my feet.
The rancid odor of long held medically tainted urine and fear
fill my nostril cavities with bitter stench.
My hand firmly covers my mouth.
My thumb and four fingers squeeze the cushion of my cheeks hard,
as my eyes dance quickly
at the shadows closing in.
A cloak of darkness hovers just above my head.
With my other hand, which now sports a nail-less,
grotesque tip on my index finger-I pry my left hand,
which has viced itself over the lower portion of my face, away.
A scream wells up from deep in my throat,
causing the piercing shriek to escape and slice through the dead silence.
Question.
-If I scream loudly and there is no one around to hear me-Does it make a sound?-
BEEP! BEEP!..BEEEP!!
The loud trumpet-like sound causes a slight jolt to my body.
Jarring my open eyes to blink awake with a start.
GREEN LIGHT.
The car radio is playing the old Brahms Lullaby.
I quickly turn it off.
With both hands I simultaneously push the sides of my blonde strands behind my ears.
I give a quick 'Okay,Already!'
wave to the vehicle behind me.
As I place my right hand back on the steering wheel,
I notice I have broken a fingernail on my index finger.
"Damn!Now how did I do that?"
I wonder to myself outloud, as I raise the sore,
torn fingertip between my lips and gently nurse the wound.
I push down the accelerator with my sandaled foot and begin to drive home.
There simply is no time to get the nail fixed today.
I must not delay-and get home quickly.
There's a special dinner for me tonight,you see!
Question.
-Do you know what today is?
Why yes,-Today is my Birthday,of course!!-
IN SPIRIT
teasing the floor with each quick sweep.
Thunder turns in a not so distant sky.
The slow masculine song of conviction promises the eve of a storm
that will come calling for me soon.
I slowly unveil, letting my gown fall to my feet.
The pale light of a cloud draped moon and flame of a single candle marry together
to illuminate my skin with an amber glow.
The outline of my silhouette is graced with an unsuspecting,
dimly lit halo of light.
I bring my fingers to my loosely pinned hair,
pulling the small metal piece from the fair blonde pile.
The tresses cascade down my back eagerly,
weaving a golden web over my shoulders and almost
concealing my breast.
Without looking away,
I wrap my delicate hand around our favorite perfume.
I aim for my midsection and push down once.
The mist seems to come alive and linger for a moment in the candlelight before kissing
my belly with its scent.
I stare into the eyes of the reflection meeting my gaze.
My turquoise eyes turn green with a blink.
I beckon you to come to me, never looking away for a moment.
Appearing before my emerald windows I see your azure eyes of want staring back at me.
You have arrived.
I feel an uncontrolled grin of delight mover over my lips.
I let my eyes slowly travel down my twin image,
allowing you to look over me completely.
Our eyes meet again, capturing your desperation.
The wind chants faintly through the window sill,
chased by a slow drum of thunder.
The panels lift their skirt and twirl,
begging the wind to play,
before they gently fall to rest for a moment to honor the stillness before the storm.
"Now."I hear you say within the capacity of my mind
as you lead me to our intimate sanctuary.
Each step I take does not feel my own,
but a consecrated path you have set before me.
I lay benevolently upon my pillow of surrender.
The ghost of your presence laden upon my body.
I perceive your kisses coming in tender licks onto the softness of my face.
I lift my chin slightly allowing your translucent lips
to freely roam about the surface of my neck.
I sense the vibration of your moan on my throat,
knowing at this moment you own me.
I will always claim your proposal.
I feel your lips smile suggestively.
The heat of your mouth covers my ear,
as you whisper into me-
My love,I live in your mind.
Your eyes, my sight.
Your breath,my life.
Your mouth,my taste.
Your body,my soul.
Allow me to feel you now.
Your transparent hand covers mine.
Conducting the palm of my hand to slowly wash over my figure.
The smooth surface of flesh awakens.
My hand glides gingerly over each curve,
pausing to cover and caress each secret essential.
Tracing every contour as if the tip of my finger were a paintbrush,
and you,the artist.
Controlling each movement precisely.
The tapping of tranquil tear drops begin to fall from the deep purple sky.
Fresh wetness fills the room, delivered graciously with each breeze that enters.
The scent of wet earth envelopes the air.
I inhale the natural erotic scent deeply as a gift to share with you,
so we may breathe the same air.
I feel my inner moisture increase with each breath, I take for you.
You sense my necessity and guide my touch,
your touch,to the recesses of your most coveted arbor.
Barely I make contact and waves of ecstasy flow through my body.
A sigh of want escapes my throat, forcing me to seek deeper rapture again and again.
My pulse quickens, as I try to catch my breath.
My other hand is now threaded through my tangled locks.
You command me to pull my strands harder for you, and I do.
With every fiber of my being,
I sharply remove our hand and bring my finger to my lips.
I open slightly to give you just a taste.
A bittersweet honey fills my palate with longing,
bringing my state of hunger to a higher oblivion.
The slight pressure of your lips covers mine,
my finger obstructing the full measure of a kiss.
You extend your tongue and curve it around the base of my tiny finger.
Sliding your mouth whip in one smooth motion,you have left me clean.
"Thank you."
You barely whisper into me,
as you grasp my wrist and bring me 'there' to finish your purpose.
My sacred rose becomes your violin,
and the full extension of my arm,the bow.
You instruct the long strokes creating chords of vocal pleasure.
My body bends with sultry melody, as you masterfully play me.
Thunder rattles into a chain of explosions.
I turn my face to acknowledge the storm has arrived.
Looking through half-shut glazed eyes,
I stretch my limbs long like the branches that sway outside my window.
The rain pounds against the pane like a thousand chariots,
as you work faster to complete your composition.
Lightning strobes across my body as I writhe and twist.
I wrap the bed linen around my fist and hold tightly above my flushed face to stay
securely embraced for you.
Streaks flash across the night sky like arrows of fire being tossed in battle.
My senses ignited from their flames.
Im most alive at this moment.
Being completely of myself,
yet still harboring your life within my soul.
My wholeness climbs to the highest peek of sensual euphoria.
The strength of your arm cradles the small of my back,
lifting my torso slightly to you.
I arch my back,then again.
I feel you lift me higher still, supporting my curve.
I offer my readiness to you,
as a sacrifice to your seductive alter.
Possessing the depths of all my stimulus, you evoke my release.
Thunder echoes loudly, piercing the atmosphere with a violent crash.
Simultaneously, I cry out your name.
My voice rasped through labored breath.
The green of my eyes go white as my lids close tight, tear runs down my face.
Air catches in my inner chamber for a moment.
The force of pleasure ripples through my body,
producing chills of heat to bathe over my skin.
We have united...body, mind and soul.
My extremities fall limp.
I exhale.
I' am still.
My breath calming, tiny beads of perspiration drip down my face and neck.
The storm begins gradual dissipation with a gentleman's farewell,
allowing only small drops to remain for cleansing.
Gaining composure I rest my hand on my forehead for a moment,
before brushing back the damp bangs from face.
I slide off the soft tousled bedding,
walk over to our mirror to let you once again look upon me.
There I stand face to face with all I know of love to truly be.
My dearest love,
I can feel you.
I can see you.
I can breathe you.
I am you.....
For as sure as the wind's promise to always caress my flesh.
The storm's promise to always return and ravish the sky.
I too, promise to always hold your hand in mine.
To exist as one,
forever joined through destinies design and consummating our love,
even if only in spirit.
I love you
LOVE LETTER TO THE RAIN
before the stars ever knew my name.
A stream conceived through purest intent.
Dark blue waters pool around my thighs.
The moon's reflection explodes into thousands of tiny diamonds,
which glisten on the mirrored surface with each hypnotic motion.
A thin sheet of moisture veils my bare flesh.
Deepest indigo sadness looms high above all the earth's spirits.
I have come before you my love,to consummate our holiest union.
Release your crystal tears gently upon me.For this is my humble offering to you.
To accept you without reservation.
The night's dewy heat arouses my anticipation.
However so,patiently I wait.
I know that yearning ceases to exist without the pain time impends.
The moment of your arrival shall begin a euphoric baptism which graces the earth.
I can feel the pressure of your atmosphere increase with each breath that enters me.
Filling my soul with your arbor.The scent of ancient soil fills the damp air.
The enticing fragrance dancing on the wings of a breeze.
Within this moment,I feel you.
Small warm drops softly descend,
leaving your liquid kisses on my skin.
I close my eyes and lift my face to the heavens,
I feel your kiss upon my brow.
Delicately the clear beads stream down my porcelain face.
I slightly open my parched lips to taste your scent and fully receive your blessings.
Oh,how my body thirsts to drink you in.
Rain pours down in a strong methodic rhythm.
Moonlight now ripples on the canvas which surrounds me,
creating intricate designs that tease my sight.
My desire to be one with you becomes immeasurable.
I outstretch my arms to the sky,
feeling your flow trace down my limbs,
meet at the crevice of my breasts then travel down my navel.
Again I close my eyes,
and let my body fall back into the natural,
moving bed you have created.
The sounds you make with your countless kisses seem to whisper,"I love you."
Cool fresh element covers my weightless form.
My hair fans out like liquid gold,
just beneath the watery surface.
I surrender fully to the magik which evokes with everything you touch.
You are a cherished gift,pleasuring all my senses.
One day my love we shall fall to the earth together.
Building the greatest waters to watch the waves dance in the moonlight.
We shall create the promise of a rainbow,as we cry with pure joy before the sun.
Only to ascend back into the heavens,and paint the sky in poetic brilliance.
Your strength has turned to peace in the form of a loving mist.
The waters have become still.My interlude with you has now ended.
Sweet sorrow, my love, for as quickly as you have arrived, you now depart.
However so, my gift is of fortune, for as long as I love you, you shall always return-my love, forever.
I stand now, once again.
Look up into the midnight sky,
thank you graciously-turn and slowly walk out of the water.
JUST A THOUGHT
and the sky affect our mind and soul,
Then cannot the same be true,
that our mind and soul affect the sky, and her seasons?
For are we not born as one,
each existing because of the other?
PARCHED
Won't you come to me?
Let me please lick the lustrous sweat from your skin.
I covet to be your key possession, unlocking your secret fetishes.
I shall let your carnal kisses embellish my full length.
From the nape of my neck to the tip of my sapphire stilettos.
Delight me. Play with my physique,
keeping your perception focused on every position I hold for you.
Appease your pallet with my amorous dew,then come to tease my
lips with a taste.
Induce me to cry out your name's sake.
I implore you to take the whole of me, all that I am and witness.
I am thirsty-
Fill the alcove of your mouth with purest waters, giving me extracts
from your tongue gradually.
Allow me to engulf the tool of your mouth.
My crimson lips like petals of a tea rose, opening slowly to receive
a proper drink from you.
Transfer me to lay upon my belly.
I shall surrender my primrose path to your intention.
Lift my posterior slightly-No!Not Yet.
I shall invite you first, My Love,to
come and explore me.
I ache to have you scratch my thighs,
as you descend into my realm of zenith pleasures.
Clench my tresses into your clasped fist,
tilting back my crown with gentle,yet deliberate pulls.
I yearn to feel the entirety of your form supported on my body.
Bring your arm to securely station under my chest-so
I can nurse each of your fingers lovingly as you feel my roused heartbeat against your arm.
I shall become your living cradle of stimulation,
while you are rocking me into unbridled submission.
Your words linger, whispering bedtime poetry of provocative desires.
~Recite to me.
~Recite to me.
I am thirsty-
The fever that shall intensify in my core rises beyond self-containment.
My inner temperature will penetrate through the pores of my flesh.
This brings warmth to transcend it perfumed moisture over my skin.
You shall work my complexity well.
I request eagerly for you to steady yourself, so that I may please you.
For now,My Love,you shall become my uninhibited exhibit.
I shall become your artist-bringing aroused interpretation to our ravenous private gallery of rapture.
I am thirsty-
I will erect myself, to kneel in front of your form.
I thread my fingers into a locked braid behind my back, so you may grasp my hand-knot in one masculine hand.
As waves crash into the waiting sea during a turbulent storm, my being
shall flow into you with wanton laps of elation.
You shall use my hands as a leaver,to conduct my strides.
You draw me back to meet the deep intensity of each demand.
You release your grip, the flat warm surface of your hands cover my shoulders now.
You journey smoothly down my back,your touch feels like the pour of sun-warmed honey.
I shiver and giggle with anticipation through short
labored breath-as I know, My Love,the gift you will share, has arrived.
Your hands settle on each side of the narrow of my waist,
pulling my frame down upon you with unrelenting conviction.
Our souls unite, filling our intimate persuasion completely.
My petite hands shall cover yours, and harness your arms around my midriff.
My head falls back. My long, tangled, wet strands net against the width of your chest.
As I stay knelt in your lap, your finger finds the curve of my chin.
With intended direction, you shall gingerly lead my breathless mouth to your lips, for a~parched kiss.
Our eyes fix onto each others gaze.
Unable to look away.
Unable to blink.
Within the depths of my navel I feel a curious stir, sending a wash of impulses which ignite my senses.
Exhausted, through rasped breath, you still in place, I shall smile with a seductive innocents and ask, "I am thirsty my love...are you??
BREATHE
For a gentle breeze took my hand and invited me to follow.
Transparent gold veils streamed through the forest canopy,
enticing shadows to form before my naked feet.
Upon each side of my path stood miniature armies of violets and marigolds,
as I would pass they would brush my skin and kiss my feet. "Thank you", I said without a sound.
Dragonflies that laughed like rain led me to a valley frosted in petals.
I closed my eyes to inhale the apple blossom scent of childhood calling.
An azure tear fell from my eye.
Crystal liquid made of innocents became a seed for a wild-rose that awakes from the earth.
I knelt down beside the flower, held her face to my own.
Gentle I let her crimson petals caress my face, and left her with a kiss.
I lay myself down under the boughs of a willow tree.
He sways to the whisper of the great oaks songs.
I watch butterflies dance in a recital performed in my honor.
I closed my eyes. My body and mind lie still as I drew my last breath.
My spirit awakes, atlas. . I can breathe.
Today I walked but not alone, through a garden of many songs
ODE TO MOTHER
Swept away my breath on a child's moonlight, Upon my brow a kiss goodnight.
All swaddled and warm you hold me secure, unbeknownst to me what creature adhere.
Then you let go...I shatter to shards that cut deep, forever was taken my innocents and sleep.
Oh,the tears so many,I thought would run dry, I imagined you whispering", Sweetheart don't cry.
"But you were gone,never to return,what gift wrapped in darkness I would be forced to learn.
But I grew up strong, my soul like an oak tree, my branches stretched high for the Lord to see.
So many years I was broken and lost, why was I born with such a heavy cross?
I look to the sky to see the warm sun shining through the fingers of the old oak tree...
Then I know why, as I look into three little smiling faces looking back at me.
-dedicated to Chey,Joey,Luke
LOVE LETTER TO THE WIND
Enlarge My Love, First and true
How I long for your presence
I wait here till atlas you arrive.
First I hear your whisper, before your kiss
The sweet perfume of earth rises with you
Filling every door to my heart
I must catch my breath, for it feels as though you've
captured it from my very soul.
I can now smell jasmine, as you lift my hair, caress my face with hands unseen.
I close my eyes for only a moment.
You have freed my spirit to fly.
Oh, how the birds
must have such marriage with you.
I long for the day, my love,
when we shall be one and grace the trees, tickle the pastures, and dance with leaves.
Sweet sorrow, my love, for as quickly as you have beckoned, you now depart
However so, my gift is of fortune, for as long
as I love you, you shall always return.
My Love.
Forever.
I'AM; WE ARE
This Poem was Published inOriginalPoetry.com's Volume 1
O' gentle grace, I am falling, falling
Can you hear me sing? Listen, I am calling, calling
Feel me cast down with the veil of the sun
My hushed whisper in the trees~I am one
I am the butterflies as they twirl in the new morning light
I am the bird who calls sorrow, echoing night
Divinity, serenity, quiets my pain
I exist within every teardrop of rain
I run with the streams, tiptoe on tides broken
I soar with the breeze, I am the star's token
I rest with the earth, yet cast light with the moon
Awake within every flower's blessed perfume
The composition of the sunset which kisses the pasture
Is created for my cleansed eyes, by the sky's Master
I am the still, decodant, beauty of a snowflake's wonder
However so, hear me cryout in every rapture of thunder
I am birthed with each season's promised renewal
We are ALL blessed as life's most precious, jewel
O' to be chosen as a human angel to roam
To harbor within all, and make each our home
I am because of you, My Dear~
as you are, because of me
Take my hand, infuse my soul~
As one we shall always breathe free
O' gentle grace, I am falling, falling
Can you hear me sing? Listen, I am calling, calling
ABSOLUTION
The raw delicate tissue of my face streaked of sin's anointing forevermore.
Thought designs and audible visions proclaim their positions in my memories.
I long to dispose of them.
I attempt to look solemnly into the sun.
Rays of contentment cascade through my ancient tree friends branches.
I focus on the beauty for a fleeting moment, as to aid the grotesque abrasions that have severed my soul.
The sky looms overhead with a sense of judgment.
My desire to cover myself and become unseen
by the Lord's absolute creations, becomes a necessity.
I scurry, hunched low and settle between two massive rocks.
My back rest humbly against my truest friend-An oak tree I have come to know and love.
"Thank you, for this moment of sanctuary. "I whisper to the Lord,
before I bow my head in shame.
I feel a harsh burning within the core of my torso,
as if Satan himself has spew damnation's acid into my inner cavity.
My stomach coils.
The seed of sin has been planted deep inside of me,
and has birthed the worm of self-infliction.
The withering demon causes ulcerations that shall always remind me of my filth.
I have become a disfigured creation wearing a costume of a sheep.
My masquerade concealing my festering spirit.
I rest my forehead to my knees. I am aware I am still crying,
for I can feel my lungs convulse, yet my tears have dried up.
Perhaps, I am unworthy of such cleansing.
Perhaps, I never actually possessed a conscience.
I witness a vision before my shut eyes.
The vision is a child, hair so fair,
it mimics a sunflower on a summer's morn.
Her eyes behold promises of hope and giving.
She is chasing silver butterflies that reverb the sun.
Her laugh echoes a song which can only be heard by the angels.
She wears no worry upon her expression.
No sin harbors within her gaze.
No sex upon her breath.
She is purity, she is grace, she is.. a child.
How could I have chased a butterfly in a meadow of love scented flowers
to an loathsome place of darkness.
A place where desolation and hopelessness rape the innocent until they smile.
When was the flame of life, replaced with the fires of the flesh?
The continuous wrenching of addictions and false hopes breathe under my skin.
The throbbing of my own pulse beats like Diablo's drum.
In steady hard thumps-thump, thump.
Yes, I have given the evil a heartbeat by curling my little fingers around the vile beast's
bony knuckles, and allowed myself to walk through the valley with him.
My voice suddenly struggles to shout through thick fluid
which coats the walls of my throat.
-"I don't want to die! Please, save me. Have mercy on my soul dearest Lord.
Heal the disease which decays my precious soul!
I beg of you now, to bathe me in your sacrificial blood,
leaving not one blemish uncleansed.
By your forgiving grace, Lord-Let me live!"
I felt blessed tears flow from my eyes and rain softly upon my knees.
The delicate touch of a tiny hand, covers my own.
I lift my sights to meet the gaze of the child, so fair.
Her smile blankets me in warmth I have never known, yet remember.
She pulls my embrace gently to rise.
My entire self feeling a contentment of unconditioned peace and love,
which exceeds the vastness of human capacity.
A path transpires before our bare feet, illuminating with each step.
Meadows of orchids and wishing flowers appear before my sight in a blink of my eyes.
The scent of roses and purest rain fill my senses with serenity.
I turn my attentions to say goodbye to my loyal tree friend-The Oak.
There, lying against the base of his rugged trunk,
set between two large rocks, is the shell of who I use to be.
Lifeless head slumped to the side. A crimson stream paints her open lips.
A small metal blade adorns her wrist on a limp, outstretched arm.
I now hold a Rose of Absolution, where the child's tiny hand was just held.
I kiss the Holy flower with forgiveness and place it upon her forever-still breast.
Tears of resolution fall down my face, and turn to rose petals before touching the ground.
The petals emerge as silver butterflies which rise up and encircle my spirit,
and gracefully lead me...home.
WITH-IN A DREAM
O', what journey I would behold...
I receive the wind's forced breath against my face-and revel in my locks rolling in the vibrant sunlight.
We hover just above a splash of rainbow painted flowers, that kiss my toes with open petals of joy.
The scent so pure, shall decorate my skin forevermore.
We crest high into the ocean tinted sky, and humbly greet birds which share our gift,
and delight us in symphonies of angelic praise.
I close my eyes for a startled moment, as we dance through a vineyard of bumble bees-"Buzz,Buzz."
They caution us sternly-their unexpected visitors.
A smile imposes my lips at the thought of their disrupted task;
Only to pass them,look over my shoulder and witness their purpose resume within natural elegance.
A shimmering mirror of water now lies underfoot.
I feel the warmth of the reflection cast up under our joined form.
"Faster,faster!"I command my fairy-friend,
as I lay down flat and wrap my limbs snugly around to secure myself, as our speed begins to summit.
With quick, steady, pace we descend onto the water's surface in skips and twists-twirling into a tango of splashes,
that shower my face with each perfectly intentional bounce.
The tickle rises up from deep in my belly, and I laugh,a laugh full of true life-honored celebration!
Dragonfly now lifts higher, and higher yet,and glides upon heavenly stilled wings.
We drift upon utopian clouds, they pass before our sights like vapored curtains before a theater of whimsy,
unveiling a surprise.
The presented gift, is that of majestic mountain tops that promise the scent of sweetly perfumed evergreen.
This aroma leaves me breathless, with childhood visions of wishing stars, and kisses goodnight.
I inhale the memory for a moment longer, as I know it will soon end.
The friend I have been blessed to accompany slows to a transcending idol, encircling the center of a noble rose.
We descend gently into the heart of the queen of all flowers,and land on her royal stage.
I delicately climbed down, layed upon her silk-and closed my eyes to dream-dreams which have become my reality.
If only I could ride upon the back of a dragonfly~
O', what journey I would behold...
JUST ANOTHER THOUGHT
The rope will begin to unthread, growing thin in the center.
If our callused hands still hold tight and yet continue to pull, eventually one of two situations will occur;
Either the rope will tear in the center and we shall both fall-achieving nothing, or one of us will let go, giving up,
and the other will fall-still achieving nothing.
When you love one another, and try to hold on to the rope of communication and move in a hard,
steady, opposite direction-Surely, your love will either break at the rope's center,
'the heart',or one will tire of the pain and give up and let go, causing the other to fall alone.
However, if we both hold the rope on each end,
and move toward one another until we connect-we can tie the ends together and exist inside our perfect circle.
WORDS LINGER
Perfection's presentation, alluring with the fact.
Mystery of minds, riddles set to toil in rhythm...
Yes, that's what you are.
You bare diversity, and lustful lore within your smile.
The sincerity of the captured moment adorns you when you laugh,
crinkle up your nose, and proclaim~ you're stoned.
Your quizzical genius is worn upon your brow.
The type that has to season to exist,
yet has been painted on your sculptured face since the age of innocents.
You are my timeless prodigy...
Yes, that's what you are.
You are clothed in sleeves of music above your most sacred instruments, my most sacred intruments~ your hands.
Your hands, O' how I could spend eternity kissing them without compromise.
For they create your love-craft, feeding the paper in verse and also creating my pleasures so precise.
Ah, your wine scented kisses.
Ever so softly they call to explore my wanton lips.
Tracing, tasting, devouring in feathered licks.
They too create lyric, lyric which sketches your script upon my skin.
The lyric which whispers through the trees and dances on the highest summit of open pastures.
The lyric which sways on the reflection of untamed waters.
The lyric which engulfs the illumination of a full phased moon,
and plays in the honey warmth of the sun.
Yes, this is the lyrics written within your kiss...
Yes, that's what you are.
The echo of your voice entwines the patterns of my thoughts,
weaving a eminent design when you are absent.
The air of your accent charms my perception when you recite to me.
O' sing me your symbols each eve before I dream, dreams of you in purest colors.
A spiritual child, you hold my hand to pray to the Master.
A peaceful dove whom will not cower, when against the wrath of darkness.
A singer of songs.
A creator of dreams.
The madman of my amorous tale.
You touch and taste me in poetry.
You obey my senses and bathe in my 'churchild' serenity.
You are my lover, of love.
You follow me to only be lost within my sanctuary of solitude.
You are the promise of our spiritual breeze, to gently exhale on summer's last wishing flower, together.
You are the gatekeeper of my heart's door, that opens the secrets of my spirit.
The true possessor of the mastered verse.
You are my autumn eyes, which blooms a rose eternal.
Forever, I shall feel the imprinted reason of your breath upon my flesh,
and when you whisper your vows to me~ words linger...
Yes, that's what you are.
THE DANCE OF NOVEMBER
and my sights be struck with darkness-
I will be grateful.
For tonight I was blessed, to have gazed upon this site..
The fullness of my love, Dianah; Shone through periwinkle clouds.
They marched across the November sky in translucent uniform.
The dance was set to early winter's brisk song of distant wind-chimes.
The wildly, composed harmony echoed of an enchanted lullaby.
The fields awaiting harvest swayed.
The orchestra rustled the season's end in song.
The tall, crisp, stalks caught the illumination of the Sacred One.
She beckoned me not to turn my sights away.
The heavenly depths overhead was but the deepest of all hues.
A blended pallet of the blackest purple and bluest magenta.
The color in reason cannot be duplicated, only beloved;
as the title to the color, in our perception does not exists.
A fan of icey cool wind brushes against my face.
The bitter caress stings my nose and cheeks, my eyes fill with tears.
The tears form not from the element of cold kisses alone,
but also from the scape which sets forth before my gaze.
Distant diamonds decorate the sky and flicker to late autumn's presentation.
It is as if they have anticipated my arrival, to perform on this gala night.
I am all to eager to comply as their private guest of honor.
As the clouds swiftly pass through the stars, they blink in perfect harmony.
I continue to walk, my sights drinking in all of the intriguing, earthly wine.
I am being intoxicated sweetly with the mysteries which awake my senses.
All of what appears before me, becomes vividly surreal.
although I have traveled this path many times, on this night it is foreign to me.
Winter's most precious art unfolds in the passing of the pale moonlight.
It is the melencholy silohette of the twisted trees.
Their leaf ornaments of bursting colors, have become faded and withered.
The leaves have let go, falling to play freely with the wind before winter calls.
Now the bare trees must dance stiffly against the night.
Their outstretched, black, arms reach high and cascade across the horizon.
Starkly, they pose in perfect poetic sadness.
Shadows cast and twist in webs of whimsy before my steps.
I peer before my path at their moving shadow puppet designs.
O' how they toil.
Every movement changing from one shape to the next.
They trick my site, inviting me to stay.
Ah, but my attention turns once again to Dianah.
Her calling, her hypnotic phase, so full.
She is now clothed in blankets of clouds which mimic orchid waves.
Yet, she still remains the nights beacon for all who celebrate in her luminosity.
She bares a smeared rainbow of watercolor rings around her frame.
A promise to the spirit of all her admirers.
A promise that in the darkest of her absence,
she shall always return and grace the blackness with light.
O' What magik ignites before me on this first, of November.
What script I must write, as to journal this moment.
As to capture this time on parchment to never forget, and always remember.
To remember the fullest moon which woke my sights.
To remember the music which I hear hush and chime before the harvest.
To remember the chill of the wind which bathes my skin and brings me tears.
O' what magik ignites before me, on this night, during the first dance..
On the first, of November.
THE OAK PSALM
Who might you be-
Who stands so proud?
Underneath merriment
Of a laughing cloud
With a hushed stance
You reach up and pray
T'is my spirit rejoice
On thy site, display
Watchful! I am-
Upon each 'marrow
To descry a lost breeze
To drowned, sorrow
Gently she rides-
On transparent wings
A thousand pirouettes
Tree tokens twirl and sing
O' such a song
Graces my ears
Whispering your wisdom;
With tales of thy years
I shall return-
O'er each day-
To call on you, my dear,
To appease your way
I bid you this thought-
To hold and to save
When my breath takes it's toll,
My dust in a grave
I vow my return
upon wind my soul sings;
Of a marriage with earth
My oath, etched in your rings
Who might you be-
Who stands so proud?
A symbol of eternal life-
A celestial psalm, avowed.
BURIED BOOK
I could almost hear him blink on the other end of the telephone.
Finally, he asked with a low-pitched tone to his voice that was almost unrecognizable,"Why?
Why can't you just have complete trust in me? Complete trust that I won't hurt, or ever leave you? Why?"
I felt the familiar hand of anguish rise up from my belly and grasp my heart in a tight clasp
before washing over my entirety. The wet cheeks of my tear streaked face felt
as though a thousand pins were pricking the cushioned flesh in tiny, quick, taps.
I wanted to confess all the immoral deeds that had sewn their scars within me from the time my memory could create these damnable chapters.
I wanted to confess of the hours I cried myself into a corpse-like silence, until I would stare numb into the vastness of yet, another vacant promise.
I wanted to confess the presence of the repeat offender, whose simply known as abandonment.
He comes swiftly after I profess my love, and the reciprocate promises to never leave me,
and never bring tears to my eyes. This is when he comes with his sickle in hand to slash away my happy ending.
I renamed this malignant demon, 'The Curse'. He has always loomed, waiting, from my earliest days.
For only a moment, I long to wear the scars that have been carved in my psyche, as well as my heart, on the outside. Only for a moment.
Only for my new lover's autumn eyes to witness. I know if he could study these grotesque stripes which adorn me, he would never need to ask me these questions again.
He would not seek the explanation to these questions, as he would turn his sights away as human beings do so well when faced with truth in all it's disfigured glory.
I to know that my lover wears a rapture of wounds inside himself, as well. Yes, his demons have woven a basket of iniquity around his innocents also.
However true, I still cannot read him the pages of this book. The book I have buried deep inside my mind's torment chamber.
To open this vault and recall this bible of indecency, would be to give these monsters a voice. To speak outwardly of their crimes would make them once again real.
They deserve no pulse. They deserve no breath. They shall not breathe through me-not again.
I believe reality is in the eye of the beholder. With this personal perception, confronting 'The Book' will do nothing to aid my issues. To heal my wounds, as they say.
Was I not confronting them, the many times these demons ravished me, letting my innocents bleed on the floor? I was.
I have stood before the liers of the heart, and was in complete reality when I became a slave to unchosen lust. When I wore bruises and cigarette burns from man's insecurity upon my arms, legs, and face.
When I was left to scream in dark, confined, spaces. My calls were unanswered by those who preached to me..of love. Of trust.
My dear lover. How I cherish him. How I adore each time he laughs. He brings me security with his warmth, he brings me his love with each kiss. He brushes the tangles from my hair after we make love.
He gives me cool drinks of water from his mouth when I thirst. He writes me his riddles, and then sings me songs. I love him so much, that I try to hide him from 'The Curse'.
I will not open my heart completely, so that his name shall be spared in the chapters of the buried book. So I will never have to cry out his name in the dark, only to find him absent. I pray that him, I shall not lose.
"Hello? Are you still there, TammyJo?" He almost whispers my name, before a long, heavy, sigh. "I'm here." "Well baby, tell me. I should know because I love you. I have opened up to you, now it's your turn. I want to hold you when you hurt, not hurt you more. Come on and tell me baby. Tell me why you think I would ever leave you?"
I almost reply. Oh, how I want to reply. I close my eyes, a salty tear escapes and stings my face. I swipe away the sadness with the backside of my hand, take a deep breath...and say nothing.
JACQUELINE
Within hillsides that crest with a sweep of golden dust~
This is where your name is seen.
Within the folded flower petals, that harbor sanctuary;
Only to unfold gently with the promise of beauty
This is where your name can be inhaled.
As a darkened haze skates across the ocean tinted sky
-To unite with the light of angel sculptured clouds
Only to entice a dance that is felt through the depth of the land;
As a thunderous drum, before a storm
This is where your name is echoed.
About meadows, where butterflies play~
Their purity laughs with each pass, as they frolic blessings
-Chasing tails of the grand dragonfly
This is where your name is whispered.
At the beginning and the end of every rainbow~
Which bends across the horizon drinking the earth
O', how the untamed streams learn from their water-colored Master
Replenishing the soul and forever freeing the spirit
This is where your name is taught.
Through the breeze that caresses the trees and bathes my skin in soft whispers;
Through the icy touch of peace, carved into each snowflake before they frost the ground ~with beauty
This is where your name is felt.
Up high, beyond the plains, soaring on the wings of every songbird~
Their sweet-sorrowed cries a timeless melody of truth, freedom, and righteousness
This is where your name is sung.
Within the veins that pass through my body~
The woven design of my flesh~
The healed wounds of my heart~
The gift of poetry which lyrics my mind~
The autumn which reflects in my eyes~
The passions which are spoken on my breathe~
;and the illuminating presence of the Lord which halos' my crown~
This is where your name for me-began.
This is where your name shall always remain through all of eternity.
I shall rise up and call you blessed!
You, who bears the precious name....Mother.
ANTHEM OF ECHOES
Catch a rain cloud~ vroom clack
Humble gallop clip clop~ ca-plash
Angels bathing~ chinkle
Reciting rescue verse~ wish-wish
Roses seen through ears~ hush ush
Gazed poet lyrics told~ tink-tink
Rhythm of thorns~ cha-chun, cha-chun
Keeper of solitude reigns her bridled cloud
GHOST
I am but an empty parlor, which adorns the mansion in your heart.
Can you smell the dust on my skin?
Can you not hear the echoes of my tears, as you walk upon my once polished floors?
There is a small fire which still dances inside my forgotten hearth.
Tho' the heat is no longer admired, and the light has fallen dim,
still the flame remains; waiting with patience, hoping anxiously that you
will come again to feed the passion you once promised would not dwindle.
There you sit. Altho' your gaze seems clearly to search my direction, your eyes remain blank.
Purposely, I cross your view, imitating one with a mission to search for a lost purpose, to become your
acknowledged intention.
Yet still you remain, unable to claim my reason.
Peering through me. I have become an inanimate object, my flesh like glass.
Perhaps my search was not without cause. Perhaps my search was to locate
the grace which I once captured, in your now empty sight.
How did I miss your rescue call, as you let go of my hand,
and were taken adrift further, and further from my side, upon the waters of our unity?
Now it is I, who calls out to you.
However so, I fear you have traveled to far to find my beacon.
For now it is I who needs rescue.
Within our book can you not find the pages that haunt with laughter of a young girl,
as you tickle her with kisses beneath a spying moon?
Can you not remember the dancing, and the vows that were whispered during late summer's song?
I look into you. I see not a man cursed with time, or lessons etched upon your brow.
I see not mistakes, nor trials. I see the spirit which I had once known.
The spirit is of a young man, his desire is to love, as well as be loved.
I see the features of my answered prayers decorate your face.
The fingers which combed through my sun-drenched hair.
The steady shoulders in which I bathed with tears of sorrow, as well as joy.
The secure arms, in which, I was once carried.
I my love, can still see~you.
Now, here in your empty parlor I shall remain, waiting for your return.
Altho' my hourglass seems eternal, I bid you with courtesy, to search for my beacon with haste.
I fear if you do not rescue me soon, the flame shall grow to weak, and quietly burn out,
and I shall become nothing more then a hand-maiden for neglect.
The unseen; the imprisoned ghost of whom you once loved.
R.S.V.P.
Allow me to ready myself before you~for you.
My request for your presence is by personal invitation only.
~Very elite.
As you are the only V.I.P in which I long to entertain.
Come sit upon the Master's chair I have prepared in your honor.
I will intoxicate your senses with fine wine, as you dine upon my presentation.
Silently, I shall enter the sanctioned room.
Although the space is dark, I feel your presence observing me. The scent of my bath oils still bask on my moist skin.
The fragrance powders the room with a barely-there lingering pursuit.
My fair locks draped up carelessly in a loose twist above the nape of my neck,
~with the exception of several restless strands that have escaped pins.
The pale wisps curl down my back and tickle my shoulders.
I light the candles.
The surround breathes with erotic life, as shadows dance for you
on the golden-amber tinted walls in the dimly lit quarters.
The flame is the only light I wish to accomplish as I conduct my performance.
I walk to stand before my dressing table, glancing at your reflection in the corner.
So discreet. So private. My intention, now being fed.
I let your bathrobe slip slightly off my shoulder.
I push down the button on the preset to begin the concerto I have chosen-
'Moonlight Sonata'.
I shall hope that this piece should always invoke your mind's sight to return your thoughts back to me,
back to this moment, after this feature of self-indulgence.
For I wish to become your little dove and glide gently always in your desires.
The music begins.
As the sensual sorrow of the piano chords ascend, I take possession of your favorite perfume.
I tilt my head back and with two quick pumps of the nozzle the cool mist hazes the air, before baptizing my
exposed shoulder with it's delicate seductive rain.
I bring my hand up and methodically caress the scented dew around the entirety,
applying pressure just above the spine.
I continue my aim for a moment, kneading the tips of my fingers to stimulate the flesh.
I do this to mimic the tiny circles your kiss performs on the back of my neck.
You know this erogenous playground well~and the command it owns on my surrender.
A deep sigh of pleasure released escapes my throat.
I know you can hear me. I want you to hear me.
I twist the tube of lipstick before my full pout.
I have chosen this as my weapon of enticement,
as a dedication to the precision of pleasure that I bestow from your kiss.
Your admiration for my taste.
The pure elation I receive as I feel you nibble my lips.-
For all the moments you have whispered that you must have my pretty mouth.
For this reason I shall decorate my lips before you, because of you.
Slowly, I apply the crimson mouth-paint.
Glancing back at you, I witness you bring up the glass of wine for a sip,
yet never leaving my presentation with your eyes.
An imposed grin plays across my decadent masterpiece.
I turn my attention towards you, and walk playfully to your corner of privacy.
With both hands stretched across the chair arms I lean close to you.
I feel the heat of your lyrics through the fabric of the robe,
as your open hand presses firm on my outer thigh.
The temptation to crawl upon you becomes unbearable with your poetic touch.
Looking down, penetrating your stare, I refrain.
I bring my lips close enough to yours, for you to taste the want on my breath.
Without looking away~I descend the tip of my finger to toil in the crisp, red, liquid of your glass.
I then take the dipped treat up to my kiss, and trace the fullness of my lower lip with the sweet juice.
With a smile of naught and a wink, I turn away.
I will conclude my guilty pleasure of seducing you without a touch.
I sit on the edge of our bed. I then pull the ribbon from a well dressed gift box
I have wrapped and prepared for this night. For you.
Opening the top of the scarlet box,
I remove the first plaything I have chosen for you.
Sheer, black, silk stockings.
I hear you deeply exhale.
I know you are pleased~yet, I ignore your bid for attention.
Lifting my leg, I bend deep at the knee as to place the lace opening properly over my blush painted toes.
Carefully, I maneuver the fabric around my pointed foot,
and smoothly glide the black veil up~stretching my leg as I work.
So soft.
The material almost feels as if I am submerging into a warm
pool of silk with each area I secure on my quest.
I lower my limb to the floor for support and lift, just barely, to let the stocking rest on my thigh.
I lie back flat on the bed, bending my other leg to almost brush my breast as I accomplish the last silk clad
mission to flow with a steady sweep until it hugs my other thigh.
Bringing both my stems together, I cross at the ankle to admire my newly dressed attire.
The candles flicker wildly, as if it has embodied my arousal for this new game.
As your robe opens and pools around my hips, I turn my attention to face you.
I run my hands curiously over the new skin, exploring both the feeling to touch and be touched.
I am watching you, watching me.
I smile sweetly at you, then sit up quickly as to finish the experience.
I delve back into 'Pandora's Box', revealing a pair of stilettos' with long ballerina laces.
Leaning forward, I quickly slip into YOUR fetish,
as my tolerance to propose myself to you no longer can sustain it's need.
I braid the straps, crisscrossing up my leg and securing a tight bow behind each shaped leg.
I twist and evaluate my workmanship before rising.
I walk once again over to the dressing table.
Standing before your sight in the large oval mirror, I undo the sash of your robe.
I pull the pins from my messed blonde hair.
The unruly curls tumble, framing my face and shoulders.
I swipe the tresses away from my eyes, leaving the mane untamed;
For I know that when you have finished ravishing me, you will lovingly brush out my tangles with care.
My back still facing your direction.
I look at you. I let the robe slip off my shoulders first, letting your eyes drink in my naked back
. I leave the front to fall open, as to expose my naked breasts to you.
Finally, I let the garment command its release and pour into a tousled heap upon the floor, settling at my
pointed heels~as to let you consume the whole of me.
Your favorite color.
Reaching into the drawer of the table, I bring a sapphire gown into view.
Placing the thin cloth above my head, I let it slide down to the small of my back, and smooth the satin over
my curves.
Once again, I turn and walk toward you.
At this moment, my demonstration for you has ended. I am ready to submit myself to you. You, my lover.
You, who sits at the throne of MY fetish. You, my chosen voyeur.
The music stops.
I stand here before you, offering myself within the cast of the candle's illuminate kiss~and confess to you that I only desire to reap your approval. I only desire to be your little dove. I only desire to be your conquest.
So I ask of you, my poet...will you except this invitation?
DOUBLE SIDED COIN
Yet still, we do not all equal in measure
Who are you who strolls by
Brushing the shoulders of your fellows each passing day?
Looking upon the few
Depicting your view of rational
One by one, in your army of normality
"Searching for the truth." You proclaim, with your Stetson smiles
Your charity, their reality, is upheld within your turtleneck lies
There 'they', the other ones crouch,-alone
There 'they', the other ones wander,-lost
Searching, searching
Their cries can be heard
But only through the echoes of their tears
Searching for the map!
The map you hold blindly before them each day
They wear hunger like leprosy
The disease, decorates their identity
Becoming more contagious-
By your reason, of reason
They wear loneliness like a black veil
Hiding their agony to become, YOU
Each passing day, more transparent
While you blanket their necessity with a smile
Cell phones still sing
Voices still squawk
Drowning, drowning-
Compassion cries of their suicide on angel's whispers
-suffered sighs that ride within the winds cry
Cover your Listerine bathed mouth;
As they cough a cough, of black ill
Hold your eyes', cover them well;
For to look upon their face, means you must feel
Pinch your nose tight;
You see, a rose by any other name,
May bring you obligation-
To reach, to touch, to bleed your dollar bills
The veins which pulse your coded pride,
Is where you find your common kind
The beautiful ones, you are- all shiny and new
The style of ambition, 'on sale now!'
Discard last years Kashmir scarf, and angora sweater
Wrap them in a box-marked 'X'!
Let them eat your scraps, and wear your garbage, for their Sunday best
-You have done them well
Decorate your walls, with your college degrees
Your Bachelors. Your Masters. Your collage to be free.
As they hold their credentials, on a cardboard sign-
'WILL WORK FOR FOOD!' In black ink inscribed
You claim, if you give, they'll just use it to drink
But what would you do with two dollars
-no home, and a BA in pain?
A penny saved, is a penny earned
So drop your spares, and make their cups 'ching'!
They say 'Thank You', bearing their cross, like Christ;
Yet it is your cup that runneth over
Drink your promotion, eat the feast-
Remember, you have been blessed
Mean while, wretch'd low in a gutter suit, their bellies growl before the bite
Their innards feeding on itself for a treat
"Those bleeding-heart liberals! They don't have a clue! Profit margins will plummet, from
needless expense!" You scoff, with fine wine laced breath
While WE, the martyrs clean up your mess-
Securing your tax deductible blindfolds.
The church is full, little clones tucked neatly in a row
Tithe your seed-investment you sow!
"Ten times the return!" The preacher does sing
Yet from outside the stone walls,
Can you not hear the abandoned scream!
All rosy to service you attend,
To relieve your conscience
You righteous soldiers-
'Come Ye' with your saint costumes and hide;
For the battle to survive marches on,
-outside the wrought-iron gate
Grit and dirt becomes their cleanser,
A shower of filth, before they tuck in tight
Tomorrow's dawn shall bring a sunset of hopelessness,
As you wake, and get your Star Bucks on!
Hurried, hurried
You mustn't be late!
Watch your step, as their shoeless feet litter your way
Grab the Tribune, can't miss the stock news!
But please, be careful not to tear the page-
For in the cold, dead of night,
President Obama's face shall become their blanket
-And the headline screams- Time For Change!
No more grass to cushion naked feet,
The park is off limits, it is for your view, you see
-As they may spread 'awareness eye disease'.
Sweet, sweet summer- rays of heat rise off concrete
Take your plastic shots of Gatorade-success doesn't sweat
They lay in thirst, and watch your Nikes' pass quick
"Water is free." Aloud you think, as you look at 'the pathetic' lining the street
But not in the land of the lost;
Where twenty-five cents for the cup, is the reply they hear with their attempts to stay alive
Who are YOU who strolls by-
Ignorant to famine
Ignorant to the neglect?
-Your truth has adjured
And the tears of humanity, continue to bleed-
Although, deeply masked, with your self-righteous pollution!
And the sun continues to grace light upon ALL of us-
...even, the Forgotten Ones!
BABY BREATH MAGIK
Time honored test
Seek a love's true charm
Upon a child's breath
Within the season's bloom
Pick angel 'gyp' grown wild
Christen buds in a rain bath
Binding the vines that rest, piled
Light a purest wick
Circle rose petals, sincere
A half past waning June
Cantations' spoken clear
Of this verse now chant
Clearing thought of all costs
Bring insight of request
Thy love shan't be lost
~
May his eyes' reflect autumn
His hair, the midnight sun
A breath that whispers meadows
His kisses, gently sung
May he create lyric
; and be the first to rise
Meet my gaze each waking morn'
To sweetly kiss my eyes
Let his blood run purest Irish
As the blessed fields of May
His finger tips guide our music
As our spirits, dance and play
His soul be of a stallion
Harboring strength in his stride
Long hours he will labor
To dwell in our garden's pride
A bed of roses, he shall sow
Nurturing our precious seeds
All the harvest will sing grace
The Lord's symbol to appease
~
Seek this rite of passage
A cherished oath; promised vow
Our woven lace of magik
Sealed upon his chosen brow
Recite the sacred script
This union shall be blessed
To charm your love; threefold
Upon a child's breath
~
Blessed be,
So mote it be.
LAST CHRISTMAS RAIN
( MY SON LUKES' POEM)
-Over
-Over
Receiving forgotten glee
Wrapped with a bow
No return.
Daddy coming home
Christmas Eve.
Yesterday forgotten
Under a cardboard box
Hell has awoken
Wrapped in a bow
Looking down
Tear drop fallen at my feet
Now the rain.
Breathless is life
After Christmas Eve.
Daddy
With another puppet
Mommy with a bullet hole
;in her Bible.
Under a cardboard box
-Over
-Over
Looking up
Blindness.
For the last time
Mouth dry
Thirst.
Wrapped in a bow
Christ.
Now I see
Thirst.
I accept this cup
I drink.
I then close my eyes.
Peace.
FAREWELL TO THE WEEPING ROSE
I greet the awakening of my spirit.
Unseen touch against my cheek,
The wind has sent her gentle angel to call.
Veils of sun-kissed light,
Fall to dance in a stream of purest lucidity.
The garden of life lost, blooms,
Decorating my path with hues of iridescent hope.
I stand here now, released from flesh.
I am holy truth, yet still I seek blessed wisdom.
Upon these plains of change,
Beauty surrounds my being, breathing whispers of yesterday;
Once upon a dream.
Tiny cardinals made of rose petals, twirl and soar before me,
Their laughter heard through the flutter of whispering wings.
Crimson feathers slowly descend in suspended air,
Exquisitely these gifts pillow my steps, guiding me to my purpose.
As I quest, a wind-spirit has come to delight my senses.
Chrystal, frosted, willow trees canopy above me,
Her sweet melody entices the silver strands to sway;
The hypnotic rhythm, invoking my soul.
I near the corridors end.
An arbor dressed in morning glories awaits my arrival, beckoning me to enter.
Within the sacred arch, the flowers sing a chorus of praise.
Blossoming into butterflies as I pass, they take flight,
Leading me into a field of promise;
Once upon a dream.
Childhood greens, and shimmering clovers, blanket the meadow slopes.
The wind combs through the velvet blades.
The watchtowers shift direction in unison, upon each valley.
Emerald songs are heard through the scent of earth rising with each pass.
Charms of wishing flowers, sleepily drift throughout the valley.
Upon inspection, the released wishes are not as they seem;
They are the spirits of the thankful ones.
I capture the delicate ghost for just a moment,
Opening my hand, the angel-wisp becomes a snowflake and ascends;
I spy a wine painted rose, through the golden-haze.
Sheerest illumination bathes over her beauty,
Casting around her, with the divinity of a halo.
She sets crested high atop a hillside peak;
Once upon a dream.
Approaching the rose, earliest morning dew appears to cleanse over her.
Witnessing her blossom face bowed down low, I kneel before her.
Her silent tears bead and wash upon her leaves.
"My perfect angel, why do you mourn so?" Within the songs of my mind,
I ask of her.
Weeping, the divine queen chimes, "I mourn because I am dying. My woven petals shall never again open
to greet the morning sun. My body shall cease to vine, and birth new beauty. As the sweetest of my breath,
shall never be inhaled by children of the earth. I shall perish. My life will have honored no purpose.
My existence vein-without meaning."
Mercy completes my reason.
Taking her intricate perfection upon my hand,
Delicately, I caress the silk of her petals.
I drink the volumes of energy her beauty harbors.
Studying the depth of her tint, tracing the swirl of her design precisely.
I close my eyes, breathing her in deeply.
Her perfume possesses the truth of innocents,
As it also shares the gifts of wisdom.
Mostly, of all.. this is the scent, of love.
I allow the aroma to linger a moment longer,
To always recall the taste of her wild passion.
Holding the lovely blossom in my touch,
I open my eyes and look into her.
I then whisper, "Dearest One, my truest love. Can you not perceive that for as long as I have touched your
angelic petals, I have been blessed. As I have witnessed your timeless beauty, and you have
enlightened my senses with your scent of purity, your season is but a cherished reason. You, have become a
precious keepsake, to all who have graced your presence~ even if only once."
Gingerly, I brush the blossom with a farewell kiss.
Her petals softly release, as I catch them in my hand.
She falls limp, and withers before me.
Her season to grow, as well as her season to enrich our lives, has ended;
Once upon a dream.
Opening my hand, I bring the pool of scarlet treasures to my lips,
Blowing the petals, they scatter and anoint the air.
In the hush of a breeze, they are carried away
~on the wings of a new breath.
Higher and higher, they skate above.
Until atlas', they ignite to become star-tokens,
Which embellish the sky.
Beneath my feet, waters of peace replace the earth.
A stairway made of rain, sets before me.
I step upon this baptism, to be delivered;
My spirit becomes the echo of the wind.
I dance across the night sky, only to kiss the fullness of the moon.
Once upon a dream~ Can change your waking tomorrow...
POETESS ON HIGH
Of my mind's confessed seduction
Patterns laced in tantric designs
Fill the wholeness of my delicacy
To dance, a dance of poetess rhyme
From the earth which penetrates through my steps
To the moonstar, for whom I sing
Enrapture silent vision, kissing my sense with lyric
Virgin love, you are but my written breath
So softly you whisper, yet without a sound
Working my steady ink to complete
Capturing the scent of my nature, for eternal script
I bid you to come in the stillness of eve'
Entice me with the harmony of passions at play
Relentless
Relentless
Your stream flows of promiscuity, taboo
Drenching my feminine diary
I drink in this dew
To quench my touch, to charm the notes
Addiction's measure ignited with spirit
My strength bloomed upon each ride
Inscribing the lead laden road
Sketched for a word-chariot, which carries my flame on high
I am peace in the form of a written whisper
I am the sex that wakes your curious eye
I am the vein of truth, that pulses the divine
The tears of sorrow, the embrace of light
Be still my love, and let me linger sweetly in your ear,
for the heart's tale may be told in the song of a true poetess.
Listen.
THE GIFT; CRIES OF HAITI
The black tale that must be told
The Sabbath-day the ground screamed back
A wrath claiming the young, and the old
Out of reach, from where we dream
Is the land of hope, and poverty
In these streets, despair reins free
Woven from decayed society
Success crouched dormant, with nothing to spare
A place cleansed with the rivers of rot
Embraced was survival, love and prayer
In the world prosperity forgot
Night before, they tucked struggles to rest
Counting their blessings as they slumber -But the light of dawn, brought demise
Death's Angel came to claim a number
First rose the thunder, before the shake
A demon of nature birthed out of earths core
Mass Chaos bellowing 'the end is near!'
Foundations cracked wide, to open hell's door
Taking their young to the streets, they flee
Seeking refuge from raining concrete
Smoke rose high with blinding sheets of debris
This disaster told, would soon be complete
Assured the temple would keep them still
Hand in hand, to the palace they ran
Left no prevail, for a sanction to dwell
Wall to wall filed woman, child, and man
Children lay buried, the palace a tomb
Mother's sorrow carries through the storm
Father's now martyrs, through attempts to save
Widowed and orphaned, are those spared to mourn
Within thirty-seconds
Their forever changed
When time stood still
;and continued to maim
Without bias the unseen force struck
Forging through bodies and buildings, alike
To the ground mankind's dollhouses fell
Severing the land, within each strike
Now, the precious they had once shared
Remain but rubble and dust
By a war declared, old as time
From an enemy under earth's crust
As all hopes marry panic
Fate's hammer of fury, atlas' ceased
Death and disorientation
Conclude this grim tale of earth's beast
Worldwide we view Haiti, in ruins
Religious leaders damning the hexed
Casting stones with their Mercedes tongue
In silenced fear we wonder..whose next.
+
political breakdown
environmental disease
global warming, warning
-more industry, to appease.
a toxic waste playground
maybe, it's holy war!
another mystery of science
-let's dissect and explore.
process of elimination
pollution in clouds, water, and tree
government conspiracy
God or the devil, if you please.
+
In truth the reason does not matter
Upon every breath, a season must end
Cherish each moment within your time
For our gift of tomorrow, is but truly
...a blessed friend.
A WRITE TO RIDE
Pickup trucks and tractors since the age of ten.
The state said, "She needs a valid driver's license!"
Daddy just laughed, shook his head and said, "Yah ~since when?"
One thing Daddy didn't count on,
Years ago, when he taught me to ride.
'The apple don't fall far from the tree.'
~Just like him, I have a wild side.
Through my adolescent years,
I got to know the town cops well.
Sometimes a warning or two, here and there,
Sometimes, hundred dollar bail, or- a cell!
So, here's a little story,
Of a day, I followed my wild heart.
Threw on my cutoff jeans and T-shirt,
Grabbed my dirt-bike, and jumped the kick-start.
Down the hill and through the fields,
Past the tree where sunflowers grow.
Onto the trail where I often ride,
To a place of butterflies, I know.
As the wind tickles my face;
With the motor's gallop song.
On impulse I change my path,
Going where I don't belong.
Although, Daddy warned
~A thousand, plus times;
"Tammy Jo, don't cross that highway!"
I know it's those hills, I MUST climb.
Now, I have broken these rules,
Many times, I must admit.
To get to that swimming hole,
This time..they'll be no regret!
I shift into fourth,
Approaching the highway looks clear.
Like a bat out of Moses I ride,
Hey, speed always chases away fear!
I blow through the county road,
Fueled with an Evel Knievel soul.
Suddenly, I hear cherry sirens,
Look back, and laugh at whose on patrol!
The town sheriff, I know him quite well.
Around here, we call him 'Captain Big Gun'.
Back in the day, he chased Daddy.
Dad always said, "He's to fat to run!"
I jump over the creek bed,
~and he splashes across.
This time he's out for blood,
Just to prove he's the boss.
On my tail he rides me close,
It's time for a master plan.
On a hill I slow to an idle stop,
~and out of the squad rolls the fat man.
As he comes panting up the hill,
I try to look innocent and smile.
Then he slides face down in the mud,
Cursing my family's name all the while!
Entertained, I stay put,
Watching the egg try and climb.
As he sweats and grunts his way to the top,
I ask with a shrug, "Sheriff, what's the crime?"
Whose he kidding with those cuffs?
Does he really think I'd give in? He hollers,"Turn it off, and drop that bike!"
"Not today!" I smirk, wink and grin.
" you see, I'm already in to deep!"
I might as well take a quick ride.
Sheriff, if you can catch me~
Then kindly, I'll sure abide."
On that note I opened throttle,
I never seen that much mud spray!
I gave a 'come and get me smile',
He ate my dirt, as I sped away!
Down the hill like Humpty he went,
Must have been gravities toll.
Now, I really would have stayed to help,
~but I had summer callin', and a sweet smoke to roll!
~~~~
Kicked back out by that swimming hole,
Watching the sun fade away;
I took another toke to savor,
~and decided to call it a day.
Then I thought of my options,
Dusting the sand to go home.
The moon and a campfire?
Or-a jail cell all alone?
Hmmmmm..
Later that night I remember thinking,
While I warmed my young bones by the fire.
One day, I'll race motorcycles!!
Nah. I'd rather be a writer.
Now, I sure do LOVE fast bikes,
~and I know, I can ride like hell!
But who needs 'life in the fast lane',
When ya got all these stories to tell...
*wink*
+Miss you, Dad!
TO DANCE WITH EVE
To seize the day with the cool embrace of solitude's whisper.
The call of an earthly angel taking flight overhead is heard.
echo~
echo~
The haunting melody fades to an honored memory,
Disappearing to silence.
This..is the moment of stillness.
The moment when the new dawn's holy birth bids to rest,
Fulfilling her promise to replenish once again.
The wind performs a playful ballet.
The atmosphere stirs through the whimsy of change .
twirling~
swirling~
The dance of day begins dissension, until atlas',
Waves of serenity become her jasmine scented breath.
Deity, falls with delicacy,
Sweeping throughout the course of the prairie.
The waning queen appears upon night's page,
To begin the story of sanctuary.
Lovingly the royal jewel sings her lullaby to blossom spirits.
They touch their petal tips to unite with a sealed kiss, before slumber.
Sands of time sift quietly to relinquish the sun beneath the hillside.
Awakened now, are the nocturnal angels.
A concerto of life rises to charm the darkness.
~chanting
~entrancing
Wild-orchids twist with delight,
Swaying to the unseen chorus.
Coyotes in a blue-laden hollow,
Cry out in extended measures.
Altho' the song is one of sorrow,
A communion of praise is present upon each melancholy note.
Beneath the soil,
Tree children's entwined roots hold tight.
A secure braid of love continues to grow within their wooden fingers,
Holding sisterhood thro' the depth of twilight calling.
Listen with your sights!
This wisdom also can be heard
~loving
~touching
From the grace of outstretched silhouettes,
As tree tips etch across the painted horizon.
Altho' the hour beckons to me with open invitation;
To drink from her violet cup,
I must renew my body and spirit.
The morning angels with purest of unwritten lyrics,
Shall come in the waking light to sing for me a new dawn.
However, before I retire.
I shall open my arms, offering my spirit to worship,
What has become my sanctioned church.
To consummate the cherished circle which harbors within us all.
The ancient truths to secure infinities knot.
The silence when the earth spirits sing loudly,
Breathing thro' our breath-as we; theirs.
In the presence of the risen moon-glow,
I shall rejoice in celestial harmony.
To dance as one in this sisterhood;
Admiring the beauty in which we lovingly,
Call upon..as 'Eve'.
~JUST FOR THE TASTE
The berry may not be to large, for more than a mouthful cannot truly be enjoyed.
Nor should the berry be to small, if so there may not be enough juice to quench my guilty pleasures.
Firm, is a definite must for proper handling, as well ripe.
If a berry is eaten before it has had time to mature, a bitterness is sure to follow.
For it has been told; at the core of every readied berry, lies a seasoned nut!
Endlessly, after searching long and hard, I spy the berry that must be mine.
I shall name my new found treasure, John E. Cherryseed.
First, I shall take my time to cleanse my treat.
Meticulously, I shall work to be of certain thought that no area has been neglected from my personal touch.
Next, I shall prepare the mixture.
I turn on the heat, but just to simmer.
The sweet sugary substance begins to warm slowly, melting into a creamy delight.
Using my finger I dip into my hot, little pot, and give the sweet liquid a deep stir, as to be sure my glaze is
ready for John E. Cherryseed.
Without hesitation I taste.
MMMM, so delectable.
I feel my pallet grow moist at the near thought of the berry's candy-bath to come.
After several slow turns with a special tool designed just for my precious little pot, the time is now at hand
to dip my juicy berry.
Holding the berry, I bring the bursting, round temptation, to linger above my pot
. -I can hardly wait till the two blend together just for me to taste!
I then lower John E. Cherryseed into the warm pool.
Altho' all things so delicious in nature should be enjoyed at a slow pace,
I find my patience in the matter wearing thin.
Gentle I rock the berry in my warm pot, to fully cradle entirely.
Carefully, I then lift my slick coated goody to examine.
I am dismayed, as John E. Cherryseed has not been fully bathed with
the sticky sweets in my little candy-maker!
Taking measures to create my decedent desire, I manually use my finger.
Returning to my pot, I paint the entire berry with a skill only possessed by a true artist for such delicacies.
Back and forth I stroke, taking pride with each intended caress, until atlas', my John E. Cherryseed is
completely covered with my sugary-coating.
Unable to wait any longer, I brace John E. Cherryseed's long stem,
and lift that beautiful, ornate berry above my waiting lips.
I almost close my eyes, but resist, as I must watch as John E. Cherryseed descends closer to my face.
Just as I can feel the heat, and smell the honey, I tilt my head back, and open my mouth wide, and catch the
berry with a long awaited lick.
I smooth my tongue up the side, curving around the surface firmly.
What happens next, not even I could predict!
The taste of the warm topping sends my taste buds into a frenzy of elation.
My heartbeats wildly, while my eyes roll back.
My face becomes flushed as small beads of perspiration form upon my brow!
Unable to restrain myself any longer, I engulf the entire dessert whole!
As it fills every space of my wanton mouth, I vigorously suck the frosting down my throat!
A moan of ecstasy escapes!
I have lost all sense of rational moderation!
My anticipation has led me to recklessly abandon the act of savoring
the sweet berry to make this moment last!
Without warning to myself, or John E. Cherryseed, I bite down hard.
Breaking the skin I crush the berry's center!
Unable to stop myself, my teeth sear down forcefully with another ravaging attack!
The berry rips off the stem with one clean snap!
Relentlessly, I chew. Grinding and smashing, and quickly swallow the squishy jelly that my once bountiful
John. E. Cherryseed, has become.
Juice slowly drips down my chin, I smile with devilish grin of satisfaction,
before catching the syrup on my finger, and sucking the tip dry.
What??? It's just a chocolate covered cherry.
*wink*
Gotcha John!
CAN YOU HEAR IT?
Sunflowers kissed by late summer's eve
Cool bed of grass lost in a breeze
The hot breath of your love, tickles my knees
Eyes open wide
Catch my curious stare
Invite you to taste
The honey I bare
The trees watch and whisper
Curious words spoken
My touch combs your hair
My rose has awoken
My petals unfold
Your mouth, my sun
You warm my blossom's face
The harvest has begun
From high, cardinals take flight
As you lift me with your kiss
The wind plays upon my body
Your hand vines around my wrist
My love, can you taste my poetry?
For it is true love's sacred dew
Be sure your kiss listens slowly~
While my words flow into you
*I love you.
WITHIN HOURS
Nervous I am not
Although, my pulse sings a different song
Haunted I am, with the taste of your delivered love
O' how you penetrated my open kiss
Demanding me to drink of your stimulus
I succumb to this awareness-
My lover, within the disintegration of hours
Once again, you shall bring me to my knees
I shall provoke your urgent necessity
If only to fulfill my lascivious pallet
If only to satisfy your lustful, poetic lore
Carve your blue intentions upon my flesh with steady strokes of your lick. Endlessly, My Irish, I shall crave your scent on my breath
~until we meet again
MADE FOR YOU
An individual delight
To be exceptionally chosen
Your celebration for the night
I want to be the one~
Who sets highest on the rack
A sugary gift to the sweet-tooth
The prettiest party snack
I wanted to be blended, fresh
Only the finest stirred inside
A little chocolate angel
Cream-filled for your tongue to hide
To be elegantly frosted
Decadent in every way
The pride that keeps your eye
Hey! Cake just makes you want to play!
SOoo~
I want to be a cupcake
A temptation, for your treat
So you can crave me all night long
But most of all...for you to eat!!
-just silly yummy, isn't it?
SILENT SCREAMS
Who are you to play my God?
What gives you the liberty to choose my season?
To murder my existence to abide your industry? I have humbly bestowed my gifts to you.
Your very breath is cleansed, due to my birth.
The home in which you dwell, is clothed with my skin.
Yet, your greed, your selfish threads of prosperity, has sewn your sights shut.
Do you not bleed? Have you sheltered your ears so;
That now, you can no longer hear the blessed sounds of the bird-songs, which awaken your slumber?
Do you not comprehend, that they breathe because of me?
As I too-live for them? For you?
I offer myself to you, to complete your purpose. I only request that you utilize my entirety, after my
hourglass has fell transparent, and the wind no longer dances upon me.
Ah! However, patience is a virtuous truth; and you choose to walk ordained as a liar.
Disease? Is this your claim? You, are the very Lord of Disease! The plagues which crawl throughout the
land, have been stirred by your corporate spoon, leaving my family to choke on your vile poisons.
The deformed images you view, while gazing upon 'us' in tears-is but only a mirror of your own
abomination.
You, are the master of heathens. A mass slayer of time's utopia. Stand proud at your podium, and except
your award! Clear the filth from your throat, and echo your speech of preservation clearly, while your
crown of destruction glistens in the black sun.
One day, you shall strangle from the very rope you've weaved from my fibers. The sun shall inflame your
flesh, and feast upon your skin! The wells in which you drink, will intoxicate you, with your
homemade toxins.. as you become the waste. Search not for my shelter, as the sun claws at your eyes,
and you attempt to blindfold your sights, with industrial shields; for I will no longer be found!
The children which you birth, shall bare the scars you have carved within their tender flesh, before their
conception. The day of judgement is near! They shall rise up before you. As you lay, spewing black
tar on your white sheets, they shall cry out, "Why, have you damned us?"
Now, I must feel the sharp edges of your fingertips. I must succumb to the blades of your ignorance, as
you slice into my spirit; and severe through my pulsing heart. Can you not hear me scream, as you
dismember my tranquility to shreds?
My death, by your transgression, is nearly complete. Soon my body shall fall to the earth, and the birds
shall sing no more. The wind shall no longer whisper my name to the fullest of moons; nor, shall the
sun again, kiss my body with purest warmth.
As I draw my last breath, and my blood bathes over you, fusing to your flesh like cursed glue, while my
slivers continue to bite into your skin, long after I am gone -remember this;
I died for you.
Sincerely,
~The Trees
MY HAND
Feel my breath in the moments of the sun
See my essence thro' the depth of the star's deepest scape
Hear my voice call to you, within the dance of the forest
Inhale my scent from the earth's purest perfume;
As rain is carried upon wings of a gentle breeze
My dear, this is where I shall be found
Rob my will and place it's very kiss within your breast
As you may inherit the glitter which falls by night
Need not in the common which unfolds to mask the truth;
To do so, transparent sights shall endow your fate
For the crown of light shall be placed to adorn our brow
The hour when the curtain falls, and our spirits sing praise of rebirth
My love, tis' this moment of eternal sands, when repetition comes to close
The flesh's flame is buried, to extinguish the empty harvest so sought
Awake now, to gaze upon the fed wick of enchantment;
The mystic flame which ignites to your path, and calls upon you by name
Listen, as the angels of providence enter our unlocked corridor
Hushed is the sound of the whisper
Which shall entice us to ride bareback upon spiritual seduction;
And answer to the whistle of the wind
Ah! To be but truly of self
Yet, to still exists within each blade of grass that sways
Every leaf token shall bare our fingerprint, within it's veins;
As every new-born bud, shall find nourishment from our very womb
~We shall bask in the divinity of early dawn
~Hold hands with the rays of the sun
We shall inherit the mystery of the moon's glow
And cast shadow-puppets throughout the land to toil
Embrace my released bodice, and hold me ever so~
For tis' the moments of our communion
To soar together on tides unbroken;
And capture our refection upon the kissing clouds
Cloth your spirit upon the outside, allow your flesh to expire
Tis' this death that shall invite you to take my open hand
~And eternally awake
Seek me out to accompany you, my love
Feel my breath in the moments of the sun
See my essence thro' the depth of the star's deepest scape
Hear my voice call to you, within the dance of the forest
Inhale my scent from the earth's purest perfume;
As rain is carried upon wings of a gentle breeze
My dear, this is where I shall be found
~I am, but waiting.. for you.
THE MARCH OF SPRING
of the Great Ship of Rebirth. Quietly, enters the seasons' harbor upon azure skies
to soft, rolling waves.
Peacefully she sleeps with the earth, dreaming of dragonflies that drink from the light of
the stars.
The crisp air of dawn bows down to kiss her face, and caress her hair to awaken, so she
may breathe her sweet breath of renewal.
She rises to greet her messenger. The captured grace of her smile unlocks the sacred
gardens' gate, as her spirit enchants the hour of light.
Pastures of emerald songs sway, while birds chant her harmonious name
within their quelled breast.
Her dance of resurrection now begins.
Beneath each touch of her poetic toes, blossoms awake from winters slumber.
Miniature petals rejoice, as they reach high to tickle her feet.
She twirls, as ribbons of sun spill from her fingertips, and sweep across the land,
endearing the earth to fulfillment of the promise.
Rivers of wind comb through her untamable tresses, to release the flowers which are held
within her locks. The bouquet escapes, becoming butterflies that encircle her
spirit with praise; and begin their course.
A bounty of translucent pearls adorns her neck. The strands break free, to obey her wish.
The beads escape to cascade down like tiny tears, which turn to drops of
dew, and bathe upon the clovers.
A young eagle sits knowingly, within the boughs of an aged oak. He calls her by name as
she lifts high from the earth, to join her waiting companion.
Spreading his wings he takes flight to lead her.
Soaring across the horizon, she sends her kisses, from the palm of her hand, to linger
upon the cool air. The clear imprint of her rosebud lips looms above the tree
tops momentarily, before the buds rain down nesting on the branches below.
In this earliest morning solitude, I sit upon an unknown hillside, which I will name
'Cherish' after this day. My sights are nourished with the purity of her presence. My
senses elevated within the surround of her gifts. I shall journal this hour, as to
never allow my memory of her, and this morn' to grow weary in my thoughts.
Although' I have witnessed her beauty countless times before, this experience is still
virgin to me, upon each of our encounters.
I have been blessed, beyond a simple birth. To accept this invitation, and engage in this
celestial feast that is being celebrated on my birthday; the tenth day, of March,
by the holy Angel of Spring.
Thank Thee.
ALL OF ME
What do you see?
Examine the surface of my bare flesh, as the candle dances upon my shoulders.
Each curve has been crafted for your admiration.
Let me watch, as you write your poetry upon my body with your fingertips.
Comb thro' my tresses, and let your hands get lost within the silk.
Hold the length close to your whisper, and inhale the scent of fresh rain that embodies my mane.
Remember this perfume, my love, as I shall always remember the moments which you breathe me in.
Search for my readiness within the indigo fire of my eyes, while I look up, and into you.
Swim in my ocean, and lose yourself in my untamed storms.
Seek your tranquility thro' the seduction of my spirit.
Trace the outline of my lips.
Without words, they submit invitation;
These are the soft petals which whisper your name.
The gates which open to accept you.
To taste you.
Your mouth harbors the master key to enter this sanctuary.
Unlock my arbor, my angel, and drink from my blossom kiss.
Raise my arms high, to play in the night-sky.
Take possession of my wrists, within your clasp-
Only to surrender me to your full exploration.
Lay me before you.
Gaze upon my positions.
Thro' the windows of your perception, is where I feel most beautiful.
Allow my naked feet to rest upon your shoulders.
Let your nails slowly rain down my offered thighs.
Dwell within my erogenous temple, as I reveal my hidden secrets.
Feel me, as I lift and press against your touch.
Persuade me to dance to the rhythm of lovers.
Listen-
I will release your name upon the rising tides of my breath.
Look at me-
I beckon to you;
Come to me.
JUST THINKING
You Are~
The taste of watermelon on my lips,
When I apply my gloss
The scent of my bath oil,
When I sweat
The sound of your belt,
When I'm a bad girl
The reason I chose black,
Instead of red
The admirer of my pink,
Polished toes
The feeling of my high-heels,
Gliding down your cheek
The reason my eyes,
Look that way
The smack of my wet hair against my back,
When I beg for more
The cause for me to lose my voice,
Why I like it raspy
The sugar I drink,
Even tho' I don't eat sweets
The Jack I love to watch
For my Sally
That laugh, that you laugh,
You know when
The flavor of me on your kiss,
The flavor of you on my kiss
The full moons glow over the fields,
The warm sunshine on your tummy, next to the fields
The spark in my Sparks,
Isn't this only juice?
The one who makes my kitty purrrr,
meow
The dare in my truth,
The truth in my dare
My first experience,
My instructor
The autumn eyes,
That watch me sleep
The smell of coffee,
When my eyes wake
The breath on my back,
When you want me to wake
The flame on my cigarette,
In between
The reason my rootbeer,
Floats
My '67 Stang,
When I want to ride
The reason I want a shower,
When I'm clean
The reason I say 'Don't peek',
The reason I want you to peek
The speed before lift off,
Even when I'm still on the ground
The master of the blindfold
Surprise
The champagne cork that pops,
The champagne that explodes
The index finger that says 'Come here',
The reason that I 'go-there'
The voice that whispers,
'Those kind of things'
The notes on the instruments,
I love to lick
My photographer,
That takes secret shots
My human canteen,
When 'I Am Thirsty'
Poetry in motion,
Motion in poetry
The reason I write erotica,
The reason it turns me on
The reason for this poem,
My poem
You Are~
Why I have been thinking of you.
AN AFTERNOON STROLL
-Where have all the rabbits gone?
Using my hand as a visor, I shield the sun's reflection, and look up at the giant clock-tower, stationed at the center of the village square. The oversized, round, face mocks my existence, as the numbers say, ‘tic, tic, tic..’ Constantly, the hand skips forward. However, time is yet to reach the destination.
A wreath hangs in an office window, all dressed in flowers that will never grow, and a silver bow for a formal hello. Can’t the inviting eye realize that this bound ivy is dead, and the decoration is a memorial, marking an unmarked grave? The deceased is the earth, the building a headstone. I can spy this tomb, and hear this truth, although many others cannot; unlike the earth, buildings cannot talk.
I wonder, I wonder, what shade the world would be, if each of us lent a smile to our passing brothers and sisters. Oh, what a techno-color treat we could create. The most appealing reality is that this gift would be free. Free of discrimination, free of neglect, free of malice. We could change the gray, if only we could accept the colors. If, indeed, we so hate useless spending, why then do we choose to put such unaffordable value, on values? We as human-beings complain we cannot afford, what could already be free.
Precious! I think as I walk through the park and view the beauty of a young child, while his mother sits on a dark, green, park bench. The little boy must be about the age of seven. Such a gracious year to be alive! Filled with endless curiosity, and wonderment. I remember- Oh, how I remember, discovering this mystic kingdom with such clean eyes.
He appears to be talking to himself. I wonder if he is singing nursery rhymes, or if he is speaking to an unseen friend, that only his magical eyes can see. Wait! What is that he is holding to his delicate ear? This little angel has become a puppet- as I notice that his tiny hand clenches a cell phone!
Why would his mother allow him to choose this way? Does she not see the castle in the sandbox, or how the swings have secret wings, and if you close your eyes you can feel them fly? No. She does not see this place waiting for discovery, as she is to consumed with the boys cell phone clone-Nokia, which apparently has affixed itself to her own ear. She is arguing loudly into the plastic piece; about money, I think, as she shouts “Why should you care about me, as long as you get paid!”
If only, if only, she could comprehend that the faceless enemy on the other end of the signal, will one day become her son. Then, would she find the time to play?
Fifty-cents for a newspaper, which is imprisoned in a steel yellow cage. I peer in the mesh window-‘Headline News; Eight Car Pile Up! Five Dead!’ A pain bathes over my heart, as I think of the mechanical slaying. I wonder where they were going on the last day of their clock. I wonder who they have left behind in this world, who they were, who they were yet to become.
‘HONK!’ A loud horn wails from the traffic which zooms past swiftly on Main Street. Automobiles(H.M.C.)- Human mobile cubical. So many taking up space, and expelling their signature scent, to perfume our lungs.
Unfamiliar faces filed inside their H.M.C. Forward they move, like the clock,-to reach their destination. Can they possibly know that they- like the clock, will never truly arrive?-If they did, would they still be eating, drinking, talking, laughing, singing? Maybe.
Do the families that lost the 'Headline News! Five Dead!', think to themselves; 'If only they would have been on horseback, carriages, on a bicycle, or even foot- this massacre, would have never happened! They would be alive today; to laugh, and to cry , to succeed, and fail, but most of all- to love.’ Maybe.
Before I carry myself home for a nap, under my loyal oak-friend; I take one more look around at this man-made forest.
I look at all the beautiful, gray, people who pass each other, shoulder to shoulder, yet their eyes will never meet.
I skim over the endless decorated graves, and the concrete meadow on which they stand.
The corporate children, who will never play.
The variety of human mobile cubicles- that have become our suicide necessity, for speedy travel.
The long row of yellow prisons, that are more than obliged to scream our self-destruction; for the low cost of fifty-cents!
Oh, and of course, the bright paper trail of ‘must haves’, that were so generously left along the roadside by the concerned citizens of gray; in the event, that I should lose my way home!
I start home with one final thought; Where have all the rabbits gone? I glance up at the giant clock, and as the hand pulses around the numbered face -still it warns, ‘tic, tic, tic..
CALLING ALL POETS
Hammer that tongue drum
Metaphor in meter
Finger your count sum
Surrender sanity
Play with that word wit
C.P.R your line write-
To hear, see, smell, taste it
Parchment won't betray you
The flesh is made of wood
Flame up that ink and lead
Engrave thoughts, understood
Let your voice live on
Stimulate the crowd
Without expressing a sound
Inspirations scream loud
Society has no place-
For minds, unleashed free
Love*Hate*Sex*Time*Life
"To be, or not to be?"
That is the question
Bleed out the answer
Provoke art-hunger
You're the page-dancer
Write your riddle song, strong
Spin that web, Word-Spider;
To catch that phrase fever
A born legend is a writer!
PATIENCE
Rain cries down, upon the porch roof above
Tapping like pennies, tossed from heaven's glove
A girl named Patience, waits while the hours pass
The day shades to night, she surrenders atlas'
Held tight to hope, that her mother would come
Alone she sits, with dried tears, and heart numb
Once again thinking, with neglect by her side;
Why had she been born, on a forgotten tide?
What had she done, to make her mother regret
A daughter held dear, once upon a sunset?
When she told her she loved her, at the end of each day
Was that not enough, to make Mother want to stay?
Now here she waits, with her teddy bear in tow
On her lap sets a gift of dandelions, wrapped with a bow
She opens her book, to submit this thought;
Trying to write away, the pain that's been taught~
Here I am, here I wait
For the moment of your embrace
Timeless hills, I would climb
Just to look upon your face
Fill my soul, with your breath
Your light heals all the wrong
Thro' your name, I mend these wings
To soar in peace, upon your song
Dark days, fade to empty years
Her child-hood passed her by
Then on a warm day in April
She caught a young man's eye
In his arms, trust was learned
Love held close, by his side
On a blanket, under the stars
He asked her, to be his bride
Hand in hand, they stood
While the wedding bells tolled
With tears laced in her eyes
These are the words she bestowed~
Here I am, here I wait
For the moment of your embrace
Timeless hills, I would climb
Just to look upon your face
Fill my soul, with your breath
Your light heals all the wrong
Thro' your name, I mend these wings
To soar in peace, upon your song
Destiny soon came calling
Blessing her with a family
First, came a baby girl
Then the two boys, made three
One night, after good-night kisses
Tucking them in tight, to fall asleep
She sat reading her Bible
When she heard little feet, creep
There, by her chair-side
Peeking above her cup of tea
Her little girl whispered;
"Momma, do you love me?
She scooped up her angel
Gently, she caressed her head
Pressed her lips on the tiny cheek;
And with a lullaby, she said~
Here I am, here I wait
For the moment of your embrace
Timeless hills, I would climb
Just to look upon your face
Fill my soul, with your breath
Your light heals all the wrong
Thro' your name, I mend these wings
To soar in peace, upon your song
Chapters were written
Of happily ever after
Yet, the home still became vacant
Without the echo of games, and laughter
The children now clothed with values
Set out, to make their own way
Now, just two lovers grown old
She cherishes each given day
Altho' his love for her is strong
The beat of his heart, becomes meek
His last breath whispers, "I love you."
Then the grasp of his hand, falls weak
Her book is now finished
In her bed, she lay alone
With her memories of motherhood;
And the greatest love, she had known
She struggles to open her eyes
She tries to rise, for one last day
But her sights have grown dim
She must stay now, and pray
She calls out to the Savior
As she fears death, starts to loom
Her breath becomes shallow
Then, a great light fills the room!
She inhales the scent of blossoms
While roses bloom at her side
With renewed breath, her eyes open
To view Christ's arms, open wide
Like a breeze before a storm
Her spirit ascends from her bed
As she flows into His outstretched arms
To the Lord, this is what she said~
Here I am, here I wait
For the moment of your embrace
Timeless hills, I would climb
Just to look upon your face
Fill my soul, with your breath
Your light heals all the wrong
Thro' your name, I mend these wings
To soar in peace, upon your song
FOR WHAT ITS WORTH
I found a penny
I swiped it clean with my thumb
I held the token to the sun
1972! Such a fine year
The year I took my first breath
The year, that began the first page of my book
I wonder if this penny came out of press-
On the same day, as I did
So, now I am one penny richer
What should I do with this pretty, copper, treasure?
Should I put it in the jar on my counter-
With all his penny clones?
Should I trade it for a piece of passion-pink bubblegum?
Maybe, I'll put it in my pocket for a ticket to good luck
I could take my little Lincoln to cast a wish at a well nearby
~But if you get what you pay for, my wish won't be worth two cents!
Perhaps, I should hold onto the find, for tooth-fairy fares
As my youngest has a tooth that's starting to do a little wiggle
~Nah! That baby-bone is definitely worth a dollar
I know, I could glue it to popsicle sticks, and craft a picture frame
~But I'd rather use buttons
Just as I was thinking of what to do with my new coin
A very large leaf, from somewhere I do not know-
Gently sailed down right before my pondering sights
"Where on earth did you come from?" I asked
I picked the divine creation up
I studied the intricate design of the once-alive veins
The sand-tinted skin, wore tiny holes made by unique, tree creatures-
Light filtered through the miniature, jagged windows in streams-
Which decorated my face with warm, spotted, kisses
At that moment, I knew what I must do with my penny
I placed it back onto the ground and-
Pushed the 1972 'antique', back into the dirt with my toe
To keep both gifts would be greedy
Given the choice between a keepsake made by man, or-
A precious note, sent from the earth
I would rather have the leaf to always remember this day
After all, the penny...is just money!
FALSE-PROPHET; LETTER to ‘THE PRIEST
Foolish, is the man who walks in his own understandings. A master of his own light, that bares witness from
a 'religion' conceived the moment of his re-birth.
I do not ask of your forgiveness. For it is not you who absolves my sins.
The gown in which my spirit is clothed, is that of purity. The veil which shields my sights from the vulgar displays of mankind, has been eternally woven from the fibers of my childhood innocents. I have worn this garment within my flesh, from the moment the holiest of deity took my hand in marriage.
I shall not drown in your river of truth.
How dare you attempt to baptize me, and stain my soul with the blood of your self-induced stigmata. You have no knowledge of sacrifice through mercy, and your beliefs shall never bleed upon my skin.
I shall not open my mouth to choke on your sacrament.
What god do you deem yourself to be; to believe 'you' are worthy enough to hold your artificial chalice to my lips, that I would ever submit to quench upon your vile poisons? To drink of such ignorance would only feed your engorged ego, and starve me with spiritual famine.
I shall not become a disciple to your church of deception.
The tarnished noose which decorates the necks of your 'followers', has been affixed with the hands of your self-proclamation; and it shall be your tree of wisdom in which they hang-until dead.
I shall not suffocate under the weight of your ideals.
Your doctrine spills forth from your forked tongue, like a disease ravaging live stock in the sweltering sun.
Your efforts to harness my energy are in vein. I will not light the candles in your false temple- as
the flame in which you possess is to weak to aluminates your black alter.
+++
You recoil from your own reflection. For the image of your own eyes mimic a false-profit of death.
You provoke the illusion of harmony, as the doves of renewal take flight to form a halo above your brow.
The roses within the garden where you stand, vine to adorn your feet, and burst forth with
scented blossoms, to sing a celestial praise to your spirit.
Ah, but beware of the storm, priest- for the clouds above impregnate with the damnation you expel. Soon,
the seeds of truth shall rain down from the very sky you call your own. The doves that grace
your crown, shall become black crows which peck at your sights, until your vision is plagued with
darkness. The vines that caress your ankles, evolve into slithering snakes, which strike at your
feet with thorn-tongues, as the blossoms mock you with the very scriptures, you have spoken.
I shall not seek to find your beacon. Although there are hours in which I fall prey to the flesh- I will not seek
comfort in 'your' house; do not leave your light burning for me, for I shall never knock upon your door.
To do so, I would be clothed in your dying skin.
+++
The path I walk is my own. I did not choose this piety~ this piety chose me.
I shall not rebuke the name of the blessed trinity, nor shall I ever allow 'man' to define these mysteries.
From an early age, I have witnessed phenomenal images, which have forever changed my sight.
The divine events that have taken place throughout my life, cannot be interpreted from the living pages of
the Holy Bible. Nor bound within the politics of organized religion. Simply, these personal
revelations, can only be understood through the breath of my spirit, and the light which perpetually nurtures
my existence.
+This is my truth.+
A DANCE WITH A LEPRACHAUN
If you please, may I have this dance?
You see, I've sent a 'baby breath blessing'
And bound wildest ivy, for romance
From across the smoky pub
'Tis you who caught me eye
A gentleman sure as gold
Whose autumn eyes, I did spy
Now, I took me sweet time to ask
This Lassie is really quite shy
However, if your a man a chance
You can bet these stakes run high-
'Tis a night of love and charms
Saint Patrick's blessed song
Feel the magik, take my hand
;And his spell shan't take long
First, we'll dance to the songs of March
Where our laughter shall run free
With thoughts of meadows in our sight
;And our names etched upon a tree
"To the luck of the Irish!"
We'll raise our Guinness, and cheer!
As you set me upon your lap-
From your lips, I'll sip your beer
Now, please me darling
Don't misunderstand
A vixen in red, I am not
But from the moment you came thro' that door
I knew me heart had been begot
Do you believe in love at first sight?
That my soul shall always stay true?
Then toss your stone to the wind
For tonight, let me love you
Just one taste from me rose color lips
You shall never seek another
If you should ravish me thro' the night-
'Tis me pot of gold, you shall discover!
Many have come to call on me
Admiring me beauty and pride
Yet, away I turn their attentions
Hoping to one day stand at your side
'Tis a rare gem, m'dear
When two ships pass in the night
That they should only need one sail
To forever glide across moonlight
So, won't you stir me blue eyes green
;And take me for a Celtic twirl?
I only ask, you grant one wish~
*Let me be-your lil' Irish girl*
All Poems Are
1987-2012 and beyond © Copyrighted & Published by Madelynn
All Rights Reserved
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