Tuesday, July 28, 2015

48% ... pressure @ 29.98" ✑












to rest astride the hope
not fix
not decide
allow the collide

the gray to blue to green
common hours separate the pulse
of
waking to want to wait
as
licorice root & peppermint tea
steeps
beneath blue sky & gamma rays
hope shimmers in the trail of luna moths

allow the rise

the rest
is found

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half past fearless












..it will begin today
at four in the morning
on the heels of this full thunder moon ....
in a
softly, sublimely appointed chamber
with 4 walls of padded
pink & orange-paisley-dragon silk
wrapped with ribbons of blue sage
this will bind you both
to this moment
where
in this moment
you can turn it all around
before it's too late
is it ever too late ?
shove aside pride & ego & your worm-hole of doubt
love has faith & fireworks
smells of
cinnamon vanilla & feels like flannel on
a winter night
before it's too late
promise me you will try & burn the candle bright
clasp hands & jump into the fire
love will heal your wounds, mend those scars & brighten your days ....
youth will linger & stay
here, drink this . paisley-dragon nectar ,,,,,
now ....
hold tight and
make of your love a bowl of sweet-secret cherries
forgive all & remind  ,,,,
you will last.
it is never too late ,,,,

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Sunday, July 19, 2015

the wait . . .










In the fabric of my bones
lies a light within
trying to get out
shining
always waiting
there --
a structure of stone walls, moss-covered & cool to the touch
linens of pale yellow butter soft
mornings of sweet dew-surrender & gasping grasping pause
nights secret & timed
echo'd sounds
and
a warrior's embroidered wait
endless waiting
here lie golden wide timbers of a floor weathered & worn shiny-smooth smelling of ale, salt & wind hands moving, open tendered response checkered pulling, pushing . . serving up a dash of welcome & place
i am there
waiting
lamps glow & laughter kicks me thru to tomorrow a home of stairs & lace
warm against gales of ice & oil bright with the coming of the green of Beltane
there is a home of stairs, lace & a promise of return the sea is there, but i do not gaze
it is easier to look star-ward knowing is gleaned in brilliant vastness
always turning
always waiting . . .
the log walls of this cabin weathered & worn shiny-smooth a hard ride on the open prairie and
the steady climb to tree line, horses - eager & present--feel their breath - pounding & trusting with palomino intent sage thick, smoke curly-chasing
elk & coyotes howl & dance no open, boiling sea here just a river running thru land
days endless & weary wind chasing sky chasing more time meshed in evergreen presence
a flicker of the something more the peace found in the rolling of clouds across the mountain
indian paintbrush, black eyed-susan & columbine star the trail tucked away from expectation & need brief here . . time is brief but sweetly gingered
here
tarry here . . .
until another river winds thru the dream mississippi-wide & meadow-larks delight
dresses fitting tight & candy-like
hot
tight
nothing is as it appears . . . not this landscape steeped in traditions old, pain & division
not this pretense of affection & indecision
i know i see you there amongst the others waiting for me , , take away
running, hiding darting the iron skyscape of interiors cloaked in strength & will
crumbled brick fires alight & games are played to the death
questions laid to rest - do not abide within the shadows
that is the question isn't it?
who exactly waits for who?
what we dream is not linear - subject to charms & algorithms
the silver train that speeds thru the skies illuminates the night
passing from one hand to the next to the next, gradual transportive movement
dance & catch & release
quantum traveling . . across the distance
silver opalescent rails worn shiny-smooth
expecting one, but it is the other who waits at the end
silver sleek sleeper-ride
and
now . . .
i see the house magnificent mid-century modern with glass, light, air & breath
redwood honed fresh - crisp all light all white sleek, new
trees billowing, shifting just beyond these walls of glass blue-ocean sky domed & perfect
crystal-silver clean smells freesia-white stillness
waiting
suddenly glancing down
cracks appear
light escapes
has no one looked here yet?
where is everyone?
below lies
a cavern
a cave
a rabbit hole
a place deep & dark & ancient
endless
stone walls, moss-covered & cool to the touch
linens of pale
yellowed-butter soft surrender
wait 
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Wednesday, July 15, 2015

hour glass

the spark and crash of tempests flaring
solared prism of misplaced forgiving
marks our journey
from death
to living
brightly
dimming
circled in amber arms at twilght's nearing
we reach
we touch
we fold
with blood's carmine brimming
softly falling
to
a summer sparrow's song ...


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Tuesday, July 14, 2015

requiem #845











if today my spark should cease
these motes of movement settle
then i would leave upon this blue
my fractal fists of being
small parcels of crimson-saffron
to nudge against your shinbones in summer's sky
echoing with the pulse of fireflies

if today my willing should dim
this gypsy contradance to gentle
find me tucked against the wild iris
at nine thousand three hundred and five feet
riding the sound of water over stones over mountain
as pine sharp sticks to tongue
arms wide open to sun

if today all blaze & briar rests
this blood smoothes to heart's rebel
yearning shadows the cottaged cage
of fragility's equation written
as comets flicker to remind
the tender weight of the honeysuckle
... will be all that you can find

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Wednesday, July 8, 2015

texture discovered














such are pages ...
of
pressed and watered alchemy

leaf
stem
bud
flower
pressed
pressed again
stirred
smoothed
rinse repeat
dried
in
time
and
sun
a page
becomes
pages
becomes
a tome
ink presses upon the page
pressed again
a story told...
in nature's traces
shadow
to
light
to shadow once again ...


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Wednesday, July 1, 2015

courage













slipped in sidewise
between
maple leaves
and
the summer-pressed stillness
of this july morning ---
time opens its wonder
to
everytime
before
and
yet to come ...
wrapped in unfolding day lilies
at once
6
and
60
freckled sky against the spell
warming warming
this day
of
rustle & remark
even the blue jays are quiet ...

this moment
slipped sidewise
to the sun



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