Saturday, August 31, 2013

of autumn coming ...











One
solitary saturday bee
waltzes and weaves thru the porcelain berry
acompanied by a
single solitary
cricket
somewhere to the east
of summer 

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

advection










dawn's cooling
ground moist with dew
neighborhood streets fill with sun's fog
opening portals
to
          anywhere
while trees tremble imperceptibly in their worship of
sky and day
shadows lie in the back of a blue jay's throat
gray and timeless
gray and ageless
light begs for admittance into this morning kingdom of clouds
this moment
vaporous magic
transparent

possible


Sunday, August 25, 2013

It lies there ....

There is a delicacy of word I strive for
Yet it was here all along ..
Sliced & blossomed by a candied telling poignant & blue
Discovered in the simple fact that
Pain hurts
And nothing frightens more than love lost
Petaled wet sorrow
Kilned into lapis
Marrow of ebony-lines steel-taunt & wry
There, there ..
Writers don't write but paint their reflection upon the night
And await another day ....

for Candice

Thursday, August 22, 2013

atma prema










we pick-up-sticks
&
tiddley winks
from view-master days
in our halcyon mirror
striving to be
who we yearn to be
while
the zaffre-blue summer moon disappears

streets & stars
spark our compassion
as pages burn in our bones
yet the heart of this moment
is all we need
and all
we ever need know

feel the day & dance with gods
let your soul rocket to the sun
be
with
love
& trust the moon
'til
wholeness is found
in one




Saturday, August 17, 2013

wolfsbane












This green corn moon, this perseid moon has me reeled in & bound
Flat out upon this lichen-rock mesa
Open, yet closed
Collecting no souvenirs
No trinkets
Hungry for movement & a reciprocal force
Electric & startling
A north westerly breeze shakes the maple leaves and they remember a bitter frost
all too soon . . .
As the day shines toward twilight
Expectant & paused
This sturgeon moon strips me of artifice & need
Pink & hollowed
Folded inside out
fragile
Awaiting strength
The breeze has quieted as twilight draws closer
Hearing echoes, whispers & purpose
Longing for a scent of pine & altitude
a secret stashed in my marrow
Bright me on, tap the fire-core
Rise up ooh full red moon
And sing me to a rising of spirit & knowing

Thursday, August 8, 2013

source


Brenda was born with a red sparkle heart
speckled fragments of ash in her bone
standing for hours in the shaded grass park
that laid there between our homes

Standing & staring to the prairie-blue sky
skinny arms twirling around ...
'til one day she flew up, in her gingham blue dress
her banjo-brown eyes not once looking down

Some children hear just the birds of the air . .
while others hear the whispers of wind beyond
striving to reach horizons unseen
yearning to break earth's bond

Brenda was slight as summer's green mantis
and nutmeg-brown as milo in fall
thin & transparent, yet so full of stardust
but not able to tell us at all ...

Her secrets she carried like a pocket of berries
with a name that didn't fit on my tongue
plucked they were from some galaxy's shore
with a color that shone like the sun

Brenda was born with a red sparkle heart
speckled atoms of Mars in her heart
flying thru life with an equation of dreams
and a song of rhubarb Mozart