Thursday, May 18, 2017

weight of air

buttercream
mandarin branches weeping
peeking
blue agate night boiled dry
amongst stars & hurricanes
tempest
reckless
white sails approaching
glass jam marmalade
velvet grenades
lobbed & powdered
by
confectioners sugar'd moonlight
allow the great horned owl
its due
blue agate night




Wednesday, May 17, 2017

golden vessel

transfixed by the rain
captivated by the wind
is this loneliness
    or sorrow weighing upon my moon-bones?
can I trust that the blue sky remains unblemished beyond this veil of storm?
is my sanity or my fantasy bound to yours
with ribbon of saffron and summer?
where do I go when the rains come--plundering my sun, my radiance?
is it there beyond this veil of emptiness?
am I now mere emptiness
     now drenched in forecast and blue jay feathers heavy?
the wind tears through the hackberry tree with thunderous embrace
welcome sorrow,
to the tempered fabric of my morning
welcome
sit--stay awhile
and
have some peppermint and licorice root tea
the wind blows wild

rain becoming sheets of joy




Friday, May 12, 2017

endings on

what is that like ...
to hold space between worlds
dangling molecules of lonliness & blue
ringed in the golden aperture of sun's horizon
sinking resting sinking
illuminated mind--liberated stardust
clinging
clinging
no more
a calling--a journey of blue jay's breath

to become

those candy orange slices that rest
in a red glass bowl on your grandmother's table

what color is the hollow of longing
how do we find the remnants of
childhood's crystal cowboy-pony-brilliance
sinking sinking
transformed to diadems
of
rivers
marshmallow-kisses-bourbon-deep
summer meadowlarks-icing-song
rising rising
to become
vast
blue dark-moon
delight 

Thursday, May 11, 2017

cool morning

talking to the gloaming
beneath black wings
pierced
and
possible
this tumbled place
grasping
clasping
the rope for
purchase
and
prize
feathers found
against the bark of dogs and trees of full green



Wednesday, May 10, 2017

sometimes the dark

fissure widening
light to dark becomes the tendril vine
childhood's vessel
cigarettes & turpentine
water the roses
count to sixty each time
keep your legs together
cigarettes & turpentine
pressing leaf patterns
deep upon skin
sugar rooms of summer thyme
turn the page--burn the fabric
cigarettes & turpentine
tucked golden child
chosen of springtime
solace of sky
cigarettes & turpentine






Tuesday, May 9, 2017

relativity

frost to honeybee
rain on flooded waters 
queen of hearts
         turned upon the southwesterly wind 
wind & water
          weight & welter 
hearts ransomed by love's tale 
corvids & covairs collide in skies 
   prism'd by clementines & cooling 
          cooling 
          cooling 
giving 
getting 
sometimes it falls to the bee in the frost 
to the heart in the wind 
sometimes it falls 
sometimes 
                it rises as feathers 
                from the passenger seat 
hand tucked beneath your blueness 


Monday, May 8, 2017

crossing

I sit in saffron
and
hold a bowl of ancient tone
aged, cold & nodding to the hollow

deciding

warm currents lift me onto the backs of fine-boned fragility
golden-ribboned
heavy with mystery and smelling of pine
time lies in velvet slumbered hope
blue should have been my middle name

pausing

in cool rushing brilliance

pausing

patience is learned despite the hour
dripping amongst
the willow
the lilies
movement requires strength requires strip of ego
requires surrender requires presence

requires

plunging your hands into the earth and feeling the warmth of the day
in coolness grasping
hold to your wound
breathe it in
press it in
then
gently
rise up
and
admit defeat at the hands of mediocrity & fear
yet a conquest of love flirts there along the seams
feels its vibrato
speaking in the tongue of sparrows and stones
run then
run hard
swift
and
jump the west-bound-train & ride the tree-line to vulnerability & boulder creek
wear a cowboy bandana and sing to the quarter moon on a night clear
and
my middle name should have been blue

Friday, May 5, 2017

may basket










it comes as a shock
the soft beating heart
pansy petaled 
fragility inclined 
stark contrast to rain 
tender unfurling 
subject to pain 
spring's soil sentinel
perked awake  
turned towards 
hidden sun 
in day's gloaming break

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Ceres




structure of
ice mantle and rocky core
lying between Mars & Jupiter
contrast + orbit = presence
no prose
no poetry
no sentimental sparkling bon mot bouillon 
to warm heart cockles
How do you define an art;
a science full-to-bursting
with
compassion, contrition & complexity
hands hinged to hold
to cradle
to tender
and with an innate sensibility 
thru and despite a sparkling-fierce-hope-filled insanity 
pushed pushed 
honing spirit & light
catch and release
craft of ice and rock
simultaneously everything
and
nothing
dwarfed 364 days a year to the whorl & chaos of the ordinary
the temperance of tempers & time
weighing weighing weighing
heavy
struggling to find the funny, find the light .... to love enough 
to tap the spark
the rendering of sorrows cut upon expectation & fullness
the gravitas of choice
acceptance unconditional
love's price to mother
everything
and
nothing 
no prose, no poetry 
merely
ice
and rock 

removed to blue 1962














Everyday 
everyday i would fly to school
everyday i would eat my captain crunch & cinnamon toast
walk out my front door
watching the toes of my saddle shoes, 
i would walk down
the sidewalk to school
the lines metronoming my stride 
like
playing cards on my bicycle spokes
walking along
suddenly
i would be
flying
flying 
high up!
everyday i would fly to school and then home again
above the sidewalk of my cedarberry street
fall, winter, spring ... grey days or blue
clouds of elephants & rivers of current amuse
flying
effortless glide removed from
the lonely
the ache of the knowing
the wounds of goodbye
the wind never cares if your knee socks stay up
flying 
everyday
until i turned 15 
and discovered
skirts 
and
seals & crofts & boys & kisses
and the cut of the knowing & the bruise of goodbye
and
i walked to school
everyday 
but oh how i still wanted to fly 

Monday, May 1, 2017

unveiling green

Three o'clock in the afternoon is the bewitching hour
the neighborhood lies silent
expectant
robins do their robin thing
goldfinches light upon
early May branches
in search of food
and gold
perhaps this is
why I am drawn to the atmosphere outside these ancient windows
I
have
no
idea
maybe
like goldfinches
I'm in search of gold
too
this June I turn
fifty-nine
fifty-nine to a woman is remarkably unremarkable
Some quantum rule
applies to aging for woman
wear this not that
want this not that
emote when appropriate
eat smart
balance everything
respect the inner journey
and
be kind to yourself'
well
and
there's the whole
change the world
thing
which is about legacy than effecting change
(my anarchist bent)
the world is a much different place than the world I knew in my childhood
how convenient
landed upon 'my childhood'
what a clever and circular route to begin
a story born out of today's disregard for the illusive perfect moment to begin a story
when is that exactly?
I have been waiting to write this story for as long as I can remember
from my crib
I dreamed of being a writer
ok, well first I was a dreamer
the writing was etched in the grain of wood floors captured in the enfolded warmth of my father and the smokey-feline light of my mother
someone should have stuck a #2 in my mouth in lieu of a pacifier
my earliest memory is of a dream:
I was in my crib a standard flimsy 50's variety crib, with rounded fluffy cut-out lambs & clouds on the wall blanket pink and white gingham the window was right of my crib from which I could see the family station wagon a low-slung Pontiac station wagon with faux wood insets I slipped over my crib and out the front door down the sidewalk and opened the drivers door of the wagon adjusting myself in the seat I turned the key and began backing out of the driveway suddenly my father tore out the front door flinging the drivers door wide and throwing the gear shift into park as some unidentifiable car pulled in behind me I was vaulted into my fathers arms suddenly realizing I was dreaming or maybe a dream of dreaming dreaming of adventure
or escape
still the question
the bewitching hour has given way
to
pre-twilight
six twenty-two
awake from a nap that left me disoriented and moody
craving something unnamed as the energy shifts in the neighborhood to a steady thrum thrum thrum
folks returning home from work;
Betsy across the way pulling into her circular drive
Chris and Kevin rolling up their drive next door
the birds are cautious and quiet
I'm disoriented and moody--remember?
my days are more observation than engagement
it wasn't always
like that

Sunday, April 30, 2017

April's End















abrasive as the bark of an oak

sharp
grasping

yet we desire to feel that rip of palm

the catch

the cut

helpless

helpless as any ethereal thought

a day-dream perhaps lingering there in the grey breeze
produced by forty thousand currents of light
colliding into a puffball of nothingness

empty-set
stasis

a boiling rumpled cosmic stasis

movement proves heavy
fragile

the residue of of passionate possibility lingers

yet

history repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats

suddenly there is a dance, a shimmy
a flicker of hope
darting

tasting of blue grass

pointing west out of the chaos of this day
this pocket of complacency

hold on

tight

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
rinse repeat
a page
becomes
pages
becomes
a tome
ink presses upon the page
pressed
again
and
again
a story told
in nature's traces
shadow
to
light
to shadow once
again ...


Saturday, April 29, 2017

cassini dive

torn
pearled clustered resilience
constellations array
in
Saturn's ringed display
moon-shadow firmament
decided
jesters wed amidst lemongrass
sea glass
rent & gleaming sorrow
seemingly
open opens
regret tossed to fire
ice to desire melted
no felted broken wing here
hearts & cherry bones intact
leveled golden evermore
thistled valore chasms fast
barnacled
particle bliss
remaining
come here! take my hand!
as
objects can appear smaller
and
of
such
amber verdant dust
stars flannel opalescence
diamond's
resin home
OM MANI PADME HUM











salt cedar wax wing

tale abider
myth glider
smooth berry thief
upon
tamarisk's
slender brined branch
velvet feathers polished
whisper sigh flawless
you wait
poised
1000 years
7000 miles
low-woodland flyer
lost within desert briar
thirsty you must be
greening
preening
your cap of red pearls
oh! so creamy gray
your dazzle
how do we steward your
amaranth oasis?
oh! winged budded wonder
how
do we tame
your abundance?
trill bzeeee
trill bzeeee
you smooth bohemian
trill bzeeee









Friday, April 28, 2017

winter lingers

rain falls
gray clouds call
green trembling pinballs
against spring
uprising
uncompromising
come nightfall
snow has a fling
ice to bring
winter's wall



afterparty

Let the earth bind fast to your nobility rising
Let the vastness of heaven rest upon your shoulders
Let your mind crack apart with wonder
as thought turns to honey
hardened to amber resin
timeless
tempered
by the winter of your bones
lips part, mouth opens
and peregrines fly out
to roost upon those lips
ruby-bruised by feathered intensity
and talons ...
tethered
to
revolution
evolution
and quilted sorrow's shine
we watch
we taste
the azure waiting






Tuesday, April 25, 2017

tucked

Behind the jacquard
white golden chestnut
pressing
pressing
secreted cave of mid-century construct
tucked
my passage of discovery
found
away from day
away from light
stolen from the deepest cut of night
my underground
sprawled beneath
this angled arched canopy
hidden childhood tapestry
moments stolen
from
the ordinary
into words treasured
turn the page
down rabbit holes
and
nursery rhymes
the crevasses of Shangri-La
Five Little Peppers
Tom Sawyer's adventures
Little House on Prairie mine
A Wrinkle in Time
I am little
yet
beneath my hands
the world awaits
turn the page
escape
the
pressing
pressing
white golden chestnut
construct
turn the page
~ become ~











Monday, April 24, 2017

lapin d'mal













Eschewing the drolleries for something finer 
no easy task
no evil bask 
prone to darkness dementia claims 
no venture towards the dark today 
upon wild mad dogs & snails they rode 
carrying parts 
of
owl tarts  
wrens of gold & crimson leaf 
to battle man and all he seeks 
Come ye rabbits look to the Sun! 
leave your dark 
forego this lark 
meditate on something finer 
find this day your tales brighter 







Friday, April 21, 2017

the first time ever i saw your face

it would have been easier to not love you
easier to grasp the boundaries & channels of citrine
away from the tangle
away from the amber-walnut of your thighs
easier to hear your name in unlikely places
to visit the spaces
pressed between thunderstorms
and
the glimmer of rainbow trout
reel to reel imprints
coloring outside the lines
unrecognized
uncharted
easier to connect the blue to gray
yesterdays
to
the cinnamon cardamon carousels
shadows whirling undetected
heartbeats
undiscovered
this laced romance
this whatever .... feathered necromancy
no democracy
only nuanced fantasy
timeless
breathless
ever poised upon the wire-razor ledge
it would have been easier
to not
love
you
love you


Thursday, April 20, 2017

tabia

One hundred and twenty-one rules
castled angst brimming anarchy
resplendent in violet & linen
back pressed against the unforgiving width of you
hot--pissed--weakness
folded in revolution's temperance
fuck off you jovial duffer
allow me to wallflower here amidst
the bone whiteness of lost memory
hunted
pursued lady
arched & leaning into somnolent disdain
sacrifice the play or the piece?
time squared becomes love's blunder
Oh brevity!
Oh bare mad king!
defer to my stubborn brilliance
from this perched edge of fortress forced
surrender
winged redemption
walked
and
won


Wednesday, April 19, 2017

how a bird learns its song

small silent quiet the day no stirring no whisper stilling the surface of things light refracted reflected air becomes tangibly feathered warm against the surface of things rippling the water slightly softly pressing green of things building building opus major roaring swelling turning dust across the surface of things thick blinding storm of things blue to dark bluer to gray to darkness tumbled to rain streaming in torrents pounding relentless thunder pelting wonder lightening striking across prairie and plains riotous unrelenting whipping wildness untethered to puddle upon the surface of things golden and greening and ripe with waiting a break in darkness a crack of light piercing brilliance arrowed on horizon tangerine pink shining small daring this day replete a meadowlark sings 

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

wren

willow
marbled crispsure
seeped--stirred
melting brillog becomes you
then
fallure
and
sallow
--like old leather
tertain zymetry traced
--tatterloor--
Oh!
reshine again there
held against the bast & darriage of silver
how swell the brulluminated daring of winged things
pierced & geather
for my darning daring plocks
delight in the wondgreen versimox
spidance under the rays of day
evergloor
you branched brarthborn kin
aubade



larghetto

unbuckle the pretense vermillion
tumult stilled
to allow
soft
rain
settling undisturbed
unwind--redefine
this day
innocence surrendered
tendered
unto
this easy coming night
now
twilight
as stars align-shine
with pace placed
and
drowsy
electric
lips
pressed-pinked
willing
darkness
to hover-cover
there
in
the corners
of
waking trees
shadows
lengthen-question
relevance
slowing-growing
redemption
walk with me ....
until we are lost
to
the forecast
of
this indigo evening





Friday, April 14, 2017

lest we forget!

Joseph Rudyard Kipling
acquired a bee-sting
writing atop a pachyderm
nary a  squirm! 

Thursday, April 13, 2017

who will emerge after the fire


This revelry of chagalled chimera ghosts circling
dancing, kicking up dust in jangled illusion circling

blue. day injects into veins unfolded to Spring
twirling, bejeweled in teasing hyacinth. circling

steps quickened--anchored to an ancient tune born
bending, melting to rhymes riffed and circling

dreams forever illusive & veiled by razored demons.
idyllic diamonds dusty in mandarin silks circling

following the revelries of fools, lovers & brotherly bites
of tender injustice. leading, circling

sapphire blue escapes from lips peeled & acquiesced
stumbling, falling to magnetic futile attempts circling

this dance of amaranthine dreams. oh! jestered & gypsied
surrender--captivated by the odyssey prize circling

this revelry of chagalled chimera ghosts circling
circling this diamond sparrow circling,
circling.


Wednesday, April 12, 2017

the scent of rain

rain weighed by wights & weather gray
petrichor pulses upon frayed senses casting tight
pressed against sun's breath & light
shining--pressed to fractures opened wide
this night

ravens & wrens rest in throat's hollow
particular that smell sharp-shimmered--bright
thunder awaiting May and the nest of mallow
lingering languid on tongues tied
this night

thick the morning comes calling soft
lovely this light filtered by forecast
subtle shift the sun slinking shimmer lost
drip, drizzle, dark and vast
becomes the day
this day pulled from night




















Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Jess and the Pink Moon




My grand mother's paint-by-number sits upon a walnut shelf 
Somehow I still hear the call & pull from somewhere deep down South 
earth crochet lies idle in a vintage chair weaved plaid 
these walls lean in to tell me such tall tales of what I had 

feathers from Algiers 
pork belly home 
sweet potatot swing-sets 
love growing old 
sureness by the fire
bloody marys at noon 
rain on Sunday 
April Pink Moon 

Solitary I slumber in this ancient French brass bed 
flannel for my pillow — grey dog by my head 
memories flicker bright & then they flicker dim 
of prairie fields in springtime 
and 
wild fates tempest whim 

feathers from Algiers 
pork belly home 
sweet potatot swing-sets 
love growing old 
sureness by the fire 
bloody marys at noon 
rain on Sunday 
April Pink Moon 




Caelum

The desire to grasp the glimmer if for only a beat, a pulse
of smooth encircling light before allowing the liberation
allowing the evaporation to shimmer--become cerulean
cerulean = copper + colbatous oxide mixed & mingled upon a palette
canvas endless of prairie to sky to river wide widening widest
hold fast this pearled moment trembling in forgiveness lost

dimmer than sky blue and azure where the overlap is felt as morning

To clutch--catch the breath hot--hopeful on the capture
there within hands crepe'd and crinoline loomed in sleep
enfold the burst for a beat, a pulse before the stark primordial beauty of
opening knocks the westerly wind from sternum & throat to release the grasp
desire sharped and pressed from gravity, luminous the love comes
crashing, thundering & colliding as stars shift to form constellations
of gods & heroes to cloud our hearts with the scales of verdant regret
green is the actual color of the sun bursting its gleam upon our open hands

dimmer than sky blue and azure where the overlap is felt as morning

Once loose, the glimmer boundless becomes
the thrumming of the day, the ripple of domed-sky of waking-earth of river winding
ceaseless & circling in splendor blueness reflected reflection glistening
towards those nameless, absolute things not mentioned among true companions
except when pirate-punch-drunk on love cracked open as desire shape-shifts
love lies in the gap, a bridge waiting for the next beat, a cerulean glimmer returning

dimmer than sky blue and azure where the overlap is felt as morning


















Monday, April 10, 2017

norma elaine













a long time waiting 
should have been easy for her
visit this world
take a bow 
an appearance make 
child's play
to
stir the pot
dim the lights
touch my back
change the damn temperature
waken the cat ....
visited by the ethereal & transparent all her life 
she was sure.

i remember the tales of wraiths & the ceiling dwellers
in girlhood bedroom
beige, white-golden dancing
talking with her
teasing
with promises of strange dark travels
wisping in & out thru luxurious stucco walls
wrapping themselves in the rough, bark embraces
of those huge linden trees pillared alongside the house
she could pick up on the most subtle & delicious of ghostly signs 
to her there was nothing benign
why can't i 
what am i missing 
is she there 
am I too disconnected to tell 
damaged
not gifted
have i missed the signs?
or 
does she dwell closer 
behind aqua eyes 
barefoot with a fairy's reflection 


Sunday, April 9, 2017

nightshift of April

softening of sun against the white birch
shadowed to the shape and shade of owl bones
settling the feathered things to quiet perch

steadily thickened comes this dark of night
full moon to give a glow to earth and stone
stillness white upon my tongue as starlight

diamonds pressed shining to black of evening
great horned owl calls a timeless haunting tone
night wraps velvet arms of pause--spring breathing

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Om ah Hum

in to out
golden trail of morning
where vast blue sky is paused upon a blue jay's tongue
Om ah Hum
Great Eastern Sun cracks the river wide to wanderlust & stars
prescient & primal--veiled no more
Om ah Hum
this day to moonlight
wrong becomes right becomes a flaxen field
Om ah Hum
I am a rabbit amongst tall grasses
awareness tingling electric velvet in dawn
Om ah Hum
dedication rising from sorrow's bed
to find a home along the willow's bones
Om ah Hum
in and out
wind to rain and back again
dark to light
this day
Golden
Om ah Hum


Friday, April 7, 2017

the fool

copper taste of minstrel's ode
lingers there upon my tongue 
this mist of grayest day tinkers for no one 
fortune claims our solitary path 
scarlet bands
holding fast
not of land, no promise tendered 
held in place by something better 

scar tissue armors soft apple places
where hands lingered melting thru 
(collide burns electric-blue) 
while birds & demons speak in tongues 
skin to bone 
no laurel eases 
as hearts hideaway from comet's night 
knowing only smoke & light 

unchain the song 
repair the key 
our souls gray with ash'd debris 
jeans unfurled by ankles pool 
pick a card any card! 
I choose the fool 
you & i 
of
fire & sky 
not of land
no promise tendered 
held in place by something better 








Thursday, April 6, 2017

spectrum

a color change
violet to rose
three to four
singular attention focused divided now more

brilliance of another Spring
green-growing-things
riotous molecules
challenged--pushed

the arch of being
pulsing bruised--swollen pinking
the ache resonates quickening
warmth pointedly present

jubilant suffering
celebration
bittersweet these days of you
wee thing slumbering

a color change
violet to rose
these days
a blood-bond confidant evermore


Wednesday, April 5, 2017

exploiting chances offered by immediate circumstances without reference to a general plan or moral principle

opportunistic we are 
folded into some tangerine origami bird
discarded & bold upon the floor
that truth
catching sunlight and shade
acknowledged and recognized as vital to the pulse of days
somewhere between
the impossible and the fierce
we sing  to the silver gods & monsters of fate pierced
we soothe our bruises in the cool water of ancient acceptance
we balance who we are to the northern star
crispness becomes us
autumn lies dormant in our bones
a tale we write to ourselves at midnight
we alight
we dance to the moon
opportunistic we are