She stole the sun!
At least,
I thought she did,
Viciously
Carelessly
Free
Just ipsidy dipsidy
So I left.
I walked away.
But, when I looked up
I saw
Following me
The sun!
That’s when I knew
I stole the sun, too.
but there were faces, uncovered,
In the wood grain
In the swirls of water washing over her calm body,
Speak of gray blue eyes,
Speak of sad questioning lips and
Pearl earlobes,
In the lines of dark and lite text,
In the spools of seagulls’ footprints,
And they were seen, they must have been,
In the mixing of sand and salt water
The current pulled them in
And pushed them under;
So all voices of waves, wind,
And gulls cried over
Her too calm body curved in the current
There on the shore.
And they begged her
with beating
to breathe,
to dance,
to play.
But she did not on that day.
I gave my love to an elephant
Tied with a bow in box
She took it gladly, how elegant
Said she, she said I know
A way we both can lephagent
Like others seem to do
Tie a string around your legalant
And away we will go
Those below us all emoji-ed
And thought it such a trip
To see a girl and eleblimp
Fly so hip
Floweredly the counter bluebells
Ringing across the fields
Of sheep and baby
Lambs bleat in the sunlight
Rays streaking
Nude like over the valley
And I’m not drunk
Yet, quite dizzy though,
You’re to blame for
Turtles cross here
The white brickwork road
Leads to my bed somewhere
The end waits comforting with promises
Of sleep warm, so safe, so safe the words
echoing through the newly formed nights,
No love within them.
To have that ten back,
seconds tick away and the moment is passed
the present was right here in front of me:
blue eyes, round lips, arms like oh my god –
can I lick them? bite them? taste them? salt.
the gathering of words and stumbling
Why can’t my mouth say what my heart wants?
“I love you.”
Say it.
Three words, ten seconds…
The whistle blows,
final boarding.
I’ll write.
Me too.
eight, nine are leaving
ten turned to wave
all the world is a train is an airport
is the car driving away
is the melting horizon in sunset
and I can’t find my keys.
Driftwood
Where come did you go
And mango the flowering trellis
Like me
Small hands a bit clumbsying the way
Pastel chalk doth do
As the sea makes it’s market in the sand
Then recinds.
Can we lemonade the day
Salty sweet
Or will it drift away
Beneath of feet?
princess thought
frog he was not
handsome princely
said many
need never for
money to wed
beautiful and wealthy
not greedy
heart decided
it had found love
love found
had it
decided heart
greedy
not beautiful and wealthy
wed to money for never need
many said
princely handsome
not he
was frog
thought prince
Sun, the rising of
East, welcoming
birdsong chorus-ers
flowering, skies blue
beckoning me unto
but feel it I do not
can’t see top to bottom
and
bottom to top.
See? Can not.
Do I it feel,
but unto me, beckoning:
chorus-ers, birdsong,
blue skies, flowering?
Welcoming,
east of rising,
the Sun.
It happened so quickly
the hand could not
reverse itself.
All I remember through breezes
heavy kissing the blue dress:
wind moving trees,
birds winging, singing bright,
yellow sun.
And now?
Sun yellow, bright,
singing, winging birds,
trees moving wind,
dress- blue.
The kissing heavy, breezes through.
Remember I all.
Itself, reverse not.
Could hand the quickly?
So happened it.
walk crazy,
this way and that
step likely
to be in top hat
or to be in humble rags
as though the world were not
a place where such things happened
as to say to one come here,
and to the other – go now.
Do not be fooled, friend –
‘what I do to another, I have done unto myself’.
So, sandal the feet.
Crazy walk, this way,
and that step likely humble –
as though the world were not.
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?
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