Tuesday, September 23, 2014

upon a black stallion in the woods ....

Show to me
your saddlebags of words & beautiful
filled to summer's sun with the demons of yesterday
today, the woods smell of verbena & dappled leather
and the light ,,,
Oo the light cuts thru chaos & tenderness
to call the clouds down from heaven's azure fate
weary is the wait, but sweet the story tells -
of a water weave between said heaven & hell 

Show to me
the cities upon your road ;
of silk & sword ,
fire & air
of . . there ... there !
I spy the apricot souls of the truth in your eyes
parsley & collected sighs
to parry & collide on a field between stones
locked in a stonecircle .... our apple-lined home 

Show me the storyline between surrender & strength
transparent now to the echoes we keep
prism'd ... ancient
Oh my brother to hold & stay
Oh my love .... to hold & stay
take my hand to the diamonds & dust of this day
to hold 

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summer cooling , , ,

the trace echo of our intimacy
folds me in two
with an ease of embrace that is tender & sure
swallowed complete by the journey lying behind your heart
I am there always
lingering, waiting & leaning into a new song to hum
catching your smell as I dance downwind where the trace is strongest
ribboned in dark midnight blue & morning fog
I am use to it by now
that quixotic company of self & sun
to the hollow & the drum
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Thursday, September 11, 2014

west on highway 6

west on highway 6
fresh-mown road ditches
goldenrod fields
pierce cardamon daydreams
thrum-thrum of tires on crappy pavement baked in midwestern sun at 91 degrees
these dog days of summer will likely head-butt
into a near morning's early frost
silvering threads of conversation & memories
buried six inches & 12 months deep in soil
the color
coffee grounds & honeyed cigar smoke
sunflower towers catch dragonflies & remorse
petaled mile-markers randomly blown from Orion's belt
what design do they illuminate?
what trail of illusion?
it smells
the ageless green of this september day …

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Thursday, August 28, 2014

Sturgeon Moon

storms of earth
blue-heron seekers
what fractal fragility lies under
this sultry haze of August nights
here on the prairie grass
where .......
softness .......
drips ........
from thunder
the dust of bees
dreams rise from
the dance of the moonshine warriors, peacemakers
we paint ourselves naked
frolic with the monkey-wrenching tight-rope walkers
shifting into love activists
thick & plush in woolen kilts
mighty our rose tongues
and sharp the bite
with softness
secretly tucked
between the blood folds
below freckled skin creeped with sailing ships
and ink trails
replete with sorrow
sorrow .....
buoyant and lucky
the cursed ones ....
squeeze that misshapen fractal along the palm-heart-line
and tender it's story
with a circle of stones
wild birds

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Wednesday, August 13, 2014

(R + h)^2 = R^2 + d^2

The space is built into the fabric of our passage
held like water calypso & zaffre
untamed in it's waning
waiting becomes the prayer of skin & moonlight
tattooed in silver & sand . . .
wind changes
scent is born
as the ship curves to earth & sky
distance is the ratio of risk to water
divided by
waxing & waning
command & surrender
contentment rising to solitude
hold fast, hold fast
this thread golden in starlight & sorrow
voyages of amber-honey presence -
hold fast
waiting becomes the feathered prayer of fire & air
upon water calypso & zaffre
hold fast  . .

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Monday, August 11, 2014

condensation & evaporation

as you
move throughout your day,
if we look close enough,
if we look hard enough
frame by frame
sublimation ...
each movement sparks and sky rockets particles of you
flakes, elements & fragments
of every
every hope every desire every memory .....
cascading & tumbling into the air
pulled and drawn into the
other fragments and pieces
mingling merging melding fusing
quantum marriages
of indescribable
black veils of melancholy,
chaotic joy
crystalline darkness

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Friday, August 1, 2014

i am flattened between panes of antique glass
thin, fine glass - imperfect & undulating
sandwiched - pressed
held in place for some mysterious-mercury-reason
held  . .
in . .
place . .
feelings illusive & cloaked
laying pressed & folded-in
yearning for air & the echo of happiness
able to quietly observe this august sky-perfection
but can not touch
or smell,
or breathe in
pressed as an ancient prom flower
cornflower perhaps, or stephanotis
with heather & violets
preserved & held captive
this bell-jar moment echoes of the empty
no scent & breeze . .
color seems distant, removed . . . faded
what contraction of muscle will tip the fragility ?
what contraction of will could free the light &  rhythm ?
do i rest or resist ?
when does  resistance create the glass boundary ?
rock, paper, scissors
pause, rest
await the shift
and prepare to shatter this crystalline cage

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