Tuesday, June 14, 2011

96% full





fireflies spark past my window
like forgotten falling stars
or , is it shooting stars ?
remember that night in june when you
were there for me ?
found always in june - the labyrinth weaves the path
back to you .
always summer
when heat & starlight paint the pages of of our lives in
the muted colors of the plains
golden bleached to white ...
meadowlarks sing to a dawn ripe with raspberry hope &
the smell of sun-kissed skin lingers in the '69 mustang
along with a bottle of dime-store wine
kiss me & hold me fast
as this moment will not last
and fireflies leave their psychedelic trail of tears behind for you & i
blindfolded by fear & regret ,,,,
hear the trucks from the interstate singing of wanderlust & tomorrow ?
tell me a tale steeped in story & family & loss
and i will love you thru to the other side ...
this side
that smells of mountain pine & wild iris
scarred, but true.
fireflies & shooting stars
yes.
always in june 

Saturday, June 4, 2011

wow













i didn't know how hard i try not to remember you
and how successful i've become
adept really , , ,
quite stellar
i didn't know how hard i try not to remember you
not to remember your voice
reassuring, smooth & over-easy-brown from the 5237.2 miles away
i try not to remember the happiness . .  crystal pure-poppy happiness
drop me to my knees happiness
that came with the surrender
the sureness
i try hard to not remember
the playlist of our connection
every month of our being
the soundtrack of relationship
sophomoric & erotic
how funny is that ?
giddily ridiculous & orange-pekoe-wise
collide ;
whispers of gods & lovers, hemingway & guinness  & gaga
sweat & anal beads
sweet baby james & beowulf
dragons & orbs
contrast of age against habit habit habit
thrill against routine & the expected
in acknowledgement of the hardness, lies the recognition of the missing ,,,,
the hole has changed  - no longer jagged & sharp
it it cold
devoid of canterbury bells & lichen
along it's scar
it does not smell of honeyed sunshine man-skin
but
ice
it smells of ice
polar ice, like where-nobody-can-live-ice
i haven't even thought of that hole for some time now
felt that fracture
and i almost miss the sharpness
the sting of the wound
the keening of the sorrow
almost .....
has my heart grown harder ? smaller ?  more fragile ?
no, it has actually grown brighter . rounder . fuller.
fragile - yes.
which is why
i try hard to not remember you