I Liked Your Poem

This brought me to my heart’s knees! For those of you who haven’t read it yet, this is how I feel about WordPress. Thank you for these divine words, Mark.

 

my miscellaneous thoughts and creativity

You were born, my god.

One day you learned the sounds,

you vocalized your need.

You grew, you played, you fell.

You wrote curvy words in school.

Something happened, maybe once.

It may have been chronic,

it may have been enough

to change you forever.

It may have been enough

to push you off the edge.

You may have seen the blood,

you may have kissed

a cold face, for the last time.

You may have offered everything,

you may have emptied yourself.

And there you stood

with the tangled mess

of imaginary paths and

muddled memories, consuming you.

Your anguish was killing you,

but your face buried it alive.

You were numb.

But, you were born again, my love.

One day, a soul sat by you, and

cracked your shell.

Another clenched your mind.

Later, another ravaged your pain.

Such succulent words they devised.

You were not alone.

You…

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where have we been?

 

why campaigns

and scare apocalyptic?

political heists

dubious, synoptic

of manipulative goals

ambiguous at best,

pathos hypnotism

to line the wrong nests…

political voices

manoeuvring choices.

 

But

why do we need

guardians of greed

to tell us our home needs healing?

pretty sure my mouth is shoe shaped

 

so, is it my mouth

or my soul

shaped this way?

 

or is mind

in sibling rivalry

with heart?

 

vying for the approval

of discordant voices,

the lens of reality between –

cracked,

distorting blood.

 

I look at the music

pooling at my feet-

the beauty of its reflection

tearing my comprehension,

sweetly serenading me

from the red of the truth.

 

what I meant to say

vessel_sinking_s

I’ve shared Steve’s work before, but if you missed it last time, check him out. I love his work. It’s unique and intriguing and beautiful. Plus, he’s funny.

inconstant light

vessel_sinking_s

coloration
Colors round the clock
and I await the pale hour,
cohesive integration.
I listen     beat     my heart     breathe     my breath,
call dullness meditation,
by contrast grey becomes another shadow.

pink anodic glows
I flew to other times in zones,
tinted suns, ascendant vectors,
daylight saving lost,
neon tubes with unequilibrated
electron swarms,
their flickering hypnotics in gaudy
oscillation.

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what the heck do I know?

The older I get, the less I know.

Here’s what I do know:

sometimes

there isn’t a deeper meaning

sometimes

the layers are on the same plane

unzip your paranoia for a moment

and maybe I will too

but I’m pretty sure yours will take longer

so I’ll give you a head start

because

I know there are layers…

 

I won’t lie, a really hard decision.

once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away… (conjured up in the way only music can)

~*~

this lullaby

worming through

my inner peace

back to you

outline distant

filled by haze

most revealing

undone by gaze

of yours intense

godlike you neared

your hand outstretched

my heart was speared

to closest wall

I could not move

your beauty stunned

my mind approved

while nodding no

I would not take

the welcome gift

intoxicate

from just one glance

your “gift” unneeded

unparalleled

a voice I heeded

my own in fact

from pains endured

no gift for me

moment un cured

because you stared

in disbelief

no one said no

to such a thief

of all young hearts

you backed away

our eyes were locked

nothing to say

we met all night

in our un meeting

my sorrow carved

in bliss so fleeting

the black of sky

lulled me to dreams

rooftop romance

just me and beams

starbeams, that is…

 

 

 

“choirs of stars appearing…”

The gifts you leave behind

there are no words for,

this bouquet of memories

leaves a scent of a doorway

to concertina-d time,

where I’d wake in the night

so gently enveloped

by the musical dreams

of a fellow insomniac,

composing your art on piano,

transposing your sight onto canvas,

our hearts

pressed up against the glass in wonder

at our endless sight.

But the only glass that reveals now

is filling

with the ends of sand.

 

childhood (condensed)

img_20170219_151828_466-2

tomboy in a tutu

achingly moltened by music

that conjures the swell

and spills you

my heartbeat craving to express

the unspeakable

unsing-able

truthfulness

of cascade four dimensional

electrodes through to terminal

sated by chords of complex clarity

translated without disparity

in a child’s

plasmaglobemind.

(The seed for this post was planted by Yassy. Thank you!)

img_20170212_233703_199

(I took this photo yesterday of my father. He still works as a landscaper, at 83! He helps to take care of this beautiful property for his friend, who died a couple of years ago. He helps to lovingly tend it for her children who currently live elsewhere.)

*

your whispering  legacy haunted

those delightfully enchanted trees

they bashfully danced to the harmony’s spell

you cast on ebullient breeze.

gentle tread of your variegated spirit

autumned now with so much grace

I know you have moved on in silence

but our movement here follows your trace.

the impression of a loved one’s silhouette

caught tenderly in a still frame

is a clear photographic injustice

to the care that he takes in your name…

in honour of a birth

DSC_0756.JPG

Heaven takes a breath
then breathes out Love,
a Child wakens.
The world slowly changes colour
as the air filters a new Light.

Stilled by the cosmic embrace
of Humility
the world slowly changes depth
perception,
music oxygenating the space in between
the prostrating tears of angels
and those undone
trembling at the foot of that mysterious cradle
of vulnerability
Divine.

 

I’m sorry but

I am pretty darn sure

you have the wrong person

I’m in over my head

haunted by the same lesson

these tasks I must do

were assigned by mistake

erroneously typed

and blown into the lake

where only I was swimming

(in other dialect: drowning)

*or is that were?

See,

I am not ready for this

this palpable knowing

that pushes me deeper

into shades of unglowing

(or autocorrected

that would be ungluing)

I keep walking around

bumping into your words

you insist I should be there

your aim, it disturbs.

But nothing comes out

knotting up lonely fears

into a bullet proof vest…

dresden

img_20170209_205729_277Thirteen years have already passed and I still remember the way Dresden’s venerable spirit soaked through my pores.

But it wasn’t until my beloved friend started to sing, that my heart translated the stories she told me, the unspeakable truths of her tormented past.

Never have I been so moved by sound. Perspective winded me in all tenses.

If ever anyone should bow to any sense of venerable, it was now, at her humble feet. I took a photo, one that should be in the dictionary…