Monday, March 25, 2019

remember that time at the river

wake at the first crack of sun
call the crows and cranes
sip the whiskey
pour the earl gray
paint me with your words
balm to those who chase the line
between
the thunder and the rain

damn these feathers and wind
damn the morning light!
lifting me away

contentment tucked against cerulean slumber
dreams and dancing to the scent
of bonfires

and love

piercing sweet temperance hollowed
as this storm reaches the river
just as cranes
land to water and grassland wine

innocence disguised as complacency
in a rising time, waking line
separations torment

come back thru the lightening
come back thru the gathering storm
clouds black rolling east
lifting me away

wake at the first crack of sun
calling to cranes and crows
of a morning parting
from the slumbered
knowing

lift me away






Tuesday, March 19, 2019

diamond amygdala . . day #30

















* i remember what it's like to be a child when your world is azure & possible.  creating tiny worlds with tiny hands pony-tailed shiny one, running in fields, running in rivers, running as wind in May, feeling alien, feeling special & wonder-filled, feeling the touch of my father's hand, touching the sun, diving into every story, diving into summer's water, exploring every crack in the pavement, cowboys & indians, ready or not, here i come

* i remember … mountains.  the scent of pine filling me, lifting me with purpose & home, knowing the mountain was inside me . . creating a rocky, stone-strength, a god-force of sacred connection to stars, earth & wild iris.

* i remember what it's like to be crazy, so fucking crazy that i didn't know if i was staying or going, alone, apart, broken or together with clothes all matchy matchy & hearts all matchy matchy and there, there that little gorgeous baby-girl-child is depending upon me - depending upon me for everything but mostly for love love love is a many splendid thing but why am i so empty and low & hollow & alone & where is everyone going and what will i do here without them without them without them and stop me from crawling upon my hands & knees to hide under the desk.

* i remember what it's like to be whole.  when every shadowed corner is filled & sparkling with diamonds, suspended in timeless fragility, as my heart petals open - exposed to elements organic & true, smelling like an azure childhood, tasting like
crazy
iris-honey & you . . 

enough


of haven & hazard
herion & home
blue sky brightness tucked to shadows weight
fortune's wheel
turn of fate
what havoc wrung from stars & clementines
while intimacy burrows its seed beneath the tremble
my skin belongs to your skin
yet my bones are my own
foraged white by fire & river stones
you are my addiction
and
my indifference
pledged to gravity
born of grass & tenderness
beneath a prairie night sky a thousand years ago
a thousand years bound to moon & mallow
magic & myth
regret lies heavy as a black walnut's thigh
pressed between the pages of letters & mercury
silver cooling
warmth enfolding
holding two truths within the sparrow's nest






Monday, March 11, 2019

extinguished


i step aside--into the corner of this waking dream
surrendering all sense of line
allowing my captive self to linger 

voracious--blurred by shadowed edges grey
intent upon the breaking of the glass mask and tower walls

no weave of fabric holds
no structure 
you circle my breath
following the maze of electric borealis 
as the mandrake bores into the damp earth of waiting 
deep
deeper
deepest
base of spine 
touching 
the blending fuck of scorched souls arching into this mandarin moment
pressed and open 
hanging taunt with hands upon my back
chaos melts
fractal light bends into the surge of heat and saged ache 
quiver
tangle 
hold
hold 
holding
for the wash and rush of sacred water over the tattered silver edges 

from my corner 

i quietly watch--blinded by the collide
quenched by broken delight
winter white intimacy 

Late Winter Mourning

How
pressed and flat these days
how tight the mask of sun
while moon becomes
cold
the panes weighed down by a hopeless crown
while longing for the scent of Spring
this linen drapes loose
tattered wind takes the thread and lifts it to heaven's promise
nevermore to dance among stars & lovers
yet
yet ... what wonder lies in the lavender hours



gaoth

these days when wind becomes blood
coursing
bursting
awaiting the indigo bloom
blossom cherry'd
and
petaled thru September

of welter and frost's threat

Sun turns fear to vastness blue
dimmed not by darkness
or
love's feathered weight
all fire
brimming

becoming
Spring 

Saturday, March 9, 2019

wind out of the south

I am ok with the letting go
I am just fine with the things I know
and don't
turning back to that winter day
turning back to the things I didn't mean to say
and did anyway
I tighten the thread across the miles
I loosen the knot just once-in-awhile
to find
everything unwinds
allowing in just a little blue
a little light in which I see you
that amber way
as if it was just yesterday
I can't tell where I begin
where I end and where I bend
I unfold
opening to the vast unknown
feathers of cranes and river bones
I rise




Wednesday, March 6, 2019

in the midst of chaos

i dream of flight and
my name
called by a cranberry voice
gone
a woodpecker peers in thru the frost to observe
the morning tea & tempest
brewing ghosts & blue skies
waking waking
emerging golden to greet the day
inhale the scent of fire & emptiness
what rhythm to each step?
what breath to measure the weight of glory?
ahh to expand the tolerance of despair
become my crimson feather'd spine

Oh day!