Hand was reaching in and peeling back
the folds of comfort neatly tucked
protective gauze, aware or not,
until exposed the inner gut.
And was it of golden hue?
A pure and perfect nut?
It was severely flawed;
a broken little box,
but the heart adored the small and flaw-ful nut
with humble make and raw construct
And loved it more, though flaws may be,
than any gem of rare beauty.
I don’t give my heart half-heartedly,
or stumble a bit into love.
One look, one spark, the light in your eyes
was enough to move me.
I am a cliff jumper,
high flyer;
I am insane.
My faith knows nothing of
practicality- I could use a dose of it,
to be sure of my own necessity.
Walk slowly?
Cautiously?
Look both ways?
How shall I,
and what will my conclusion be?
I walked side by side with the white heron;
my heart was full of uncertainty,
but he did not flee- he trusted me-
and in this he seemed to say,
“You can handle that which is coming.”
On the upswing
connecting ball to bat
giving all I had.
On the upswing
feeling high and proud
soaring, crowd gone wild,
ready to run all bases.
“Foul ball” declares the umpire,
and it doesn’t seem fair at all.
Just. Do. It. AGAIN
and again and again and again.
DON’T. GIVE. UP.
Step up to the plate.
Can’t let it make us stop,
keep giving all we’ve got-
won’t be kept down,
held back, pushed around.
KEEP RISING TO THE TOP.
down the quiet roads, Spanish moss hanging, overflows,
the darkenss setting in like the folding of cloud upon sun
the street is empty, I am the only one
listen to the wind raise a fury over the earth and sky
such beautiful chaos, but if I describe it this way –
only others may misinterpret, what can words say-
sometimes they do not match my meaning;
and only seem to drift like paper aimlessly
missing every mark purposefully
caught in the grip of chaos – who sees besides me?
Knowing the trees have something to say,
beyond the scattering of mumbling leaves,
I am standing ready, for an earthly embrace,
sure of my birthing, from dust to dust.
Oh touch and heal, of numbness gone and heard
lay me down beneath the weight of heavy thunder
caress my skin with the pounding of rain, just storm
and let the tide pull me under and under.
I’ve got too many, the masks to hide
too much the scars, so ugly and worn
ease their way into humility, the proud soul denies it
until the wind is moving against the old wounds
and freedom there finds it.
mouse step a way through the forest like
the sky isn’t glitter, pretend
it’s dark and no moon
light, none
so lost, get lost-er, so deep,
get deeper, too hurt,
it’s hurt-er
caught in the prickly vines, and
oh no, no one to rescue you, as if I’d let it,
let it happen, as if you weren’t precious,
my pretty little princess –
isn’t love possessive?
Love is cotton candy
sugar and air
and standing there
in the rain
waiting
the bus that never comes on time.
and I was numb, I was numb, was numb, was numb
in the part where I shouldn’t feel numb, feel numb
it was dumb, so dumb, very dumb and numb
in the part, nicest parts, feeling dumb and numb.
put that on my tongue, pretty please on my tongue,
little stamp on my tongue,
sweet cotton.
erase all the need-
too embarrassing
the desire for eyes and lips
on my eyes and lips
hands on my hips
revealing
how you’d rather be numb than one, than one, than one
too much for your fun, not fun, not fun
your thumb on my tongue, now numb, so dumb
little stamp on my tongue,
sweet cotton.
they moved to the music and I couldn’t hear, but their bodies
were like waves on the sea, flowing, rising, falling in time
forward, backward, surrounded by light, and the
warm glow of something inviting me from inside
that was fun and the simple enjoyment of life
and I paused to look in for quite a long while, so the
hands could keep time with the seconds of mine that was
beating so hard time stood still, that was beating so hard time stood
still. I walked on for a mile listening to the breeze, somewhere near was the
scent and the feel of the sea, something darkly deep that kept secrets from me
and I paused underneath the shelter of trees, watched water trickle on its way to the sea
catching the light from the bar down the street, every color reflected so sweet,
running in waves down the street.
I want to feel it harder
be a bulldog looking into the eyes
of another bulldog; growler
not gonna back down-er
need to get a thrill, in my belly
a little bit nervous like jelly
going all full throttle; bottle rocket rocker
I’ve got to feel it harder,
Take me higher faller
don’t want to feel secure, feel safe,
or walk the line between leather and lace,
wanna sink my teeth in and fight to the death
rocking it louder all night-er
diving deep, giving all heart-er
and feel it.
It was jam and bread,
it was ice cold water
lemonade brandy
kisses underwater
strawberry chocolate
roses dipped in wine
ice cream Sunday
it was, “mine, all mine,”
jump in moments
just impulse moves
instantaneous
heart approves
hast thou a wishbone?
a wishbone for me?
I’ll take a quarter ’til
a quarter past three,
stir it in my teacup
teacup and tea
spoon in some sugar,
some sugar for me.
hast thou a needle?
a needle and thread?
I’ll put a pin prick
in my bread,
pour over cream
until it’s dead
give it to Susie
standing on her head.
hast thou a corner?
a corner to share?
I’ve got a will o’whisp-er
in my ear
hot cross, hot cross
hot cross buns
give us a kiss and a
nickel of fun.
I just had to. Send it out.
Sprinkle it with salt.
It wasn’t neat, not at all – it was
mayo spread thick over bread,
gushes over the edge
butter slapped onto it
onto the crusty corners sweet
and lavished with tomatoes
bright red juicy tomatoes –
the devil’s fruit, and I stacked ’em high
as I wish I were high as I wish I were high
and threw them out into the world
discus style – one here, one there-
here you go, provecho-
sandwiches, holy moly sandwiches
that collided into things and people and
things and people and things and people until
someone said, “I like tomato on bread with mayo
and butter and mayo and butter and mayo and butter
because the world is like that bright red juicy
green and blue and green and blue tomato.”
and someone else said, “Why?”
I didn’t even know,
“Just DO it.” Oh Holy Muse,
thy dictate I shall obey,
Oh my Lover.
doesn’t matter who put me in it- this frame of mind,
who or what doesn’t matter – either way, I’ve been burned-
postal posted, blurry eyed, no way to deny it
if I don’t believe, don’t believe, don’t be
leaving soon, If I don’t begin believing soon,
I’ll die.
Just take the first step and know that
I know, though I might not know how,
somehow the next step will be there for me
waiting for me, I’ll see it, feel it lifting me
and if I just keep climbing, keep climbing up
I’ll fly.
These changing bodies
fold and fold again
a many hued landscape-
capture the movement in the wind;
beneath the current of shallows
plays the genuine
of landscape, rearranging.
Quick to perform a ruse, and
shape again the light.
How soon from sunset unto dawn,
and then another night.
Such palette rolls across the face
like clouds across the sky
fades into its own beginning
as I sweep it all away
and move dust from one place to a new
as waves move the sea side shore.
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