National Poetry Month day 19: The Crumb

The best things in life are never rationed
and yet I feel as though love has been portioned for me
my icy rage only gashes at
the open wound of wishes

And that wound only bleeds out words til nothing is left but a
empty carcass that possesses no inspiration
stenches the air with such smell that the world abhors it
The non-creativity, non-energy and non-presence leaves stains on your
clean white shirt

The shirt you were going to wear tonight

The best things in life are never rationed
yet the only thing dear to me has been
taken

a glorious death of praise
and I am left to catch the crumbs of disguise

National Poetry Month day 18: The Painter

Snared by the weight of the dripping heart,
breaths hallowed in the corpse

The bites in womb,
thrashes on the face
Stains
ancient as dusts collects
Color is drained skin

A cold settling wind knocks rosy cheeks against jaw bones
extravagant gowns droop into rags
They dance, they dance
as if death played a tune

paper torn
crumpled

The painter
reaches for a brush to paint love again

National Poetry Month Day 17: Mr.Somebody

Origami hearts float through the atmosphere of helium
when did I learn to breath without you?
Days pass like showers and laundry
and I can still smell your lotion
----------------------------------------------
Mr. Somebody still haunts my dreams

and weaves around my senses with a tapestry of passion

Since when did I start living without you?

It's morning somewhere...I just have to remember it as the nights choke me

and suffocate my reason

----------------------------------------------

Feed me to your loom and let me become a part of your life, 

that rug that so many have walked on, let me strengthen you. 

Let me cover the floor with you that no one ever should have to walk on, our friend and our companion lowliness, but let it be ours, not yours.

(Co-written with Steven) 

National Poetry Month Day 9

Even the fish seem to be,
drowning.

gasping as waves break.
plowing strong into the current,
barely in control,

And each river rock,
hidden.
under muck and resting plants.
barely holds a color,
hardly stops the stream.

Twisted plastic scraping beauty.
trees shake their heads,
as birds pass by,
pleading.

11.1.11

You
dance between aisles
looking forward--not at me
each thought we never had
strangers dissolved to be
--I'm still drawn

Building

Painting by The Greco-Italian painter Giorgio de Chirico (1888-1978). His paintings "seem deserted by humanity despite ostensible signs of life, they have often been described as haunted." This poem is based off of the vibe I got from his work for Dverse 

Pulses

as if blood can replenish
life

As stain walls echo
spoons clacking against hallow bowls
wishing bread into existence for hunger

pulses

wending to the sea
praying it will open
before wind taps shoulders
that cease to exist

Ossified hearts
kept stones from dancing
as dust turned back to dust

The wind hissing at the monument
"We were here first"

Down Stream

Soles
pressing twigs into sighing dust
pressing
forward to the river

No longer do dreams stay
still
I love like water

Late Summer Micropoetry Collection: Silence, Splinters and other Privileges

Tables/ waiting/ / always crumbs/ never substance


Scales/ tipping the balance/ we dance


In heaps/ or mounds/ she searches// clean socks


Triangular anger/ hexagonal rage/ prisms of madness/ circles of shame


My flip-flops/ clap/ when I walk/ away


Weaving/ light/ amongst the rain drops


Piercing/ my ears/ each word you/ mutter is/ needles


My heart/ fresh bait/ thrown out to/ feel/ the bite


And the birds/ fly silently/ at night// escaping on the whisper/ of wind


Scratching/ jagged letters/ in splintered wood// creating/ love


I am not the first/ living life silently/ that I may/live


Muffling | silence | glass spasms | | words even seem | broken

Wilderness

dust meets dust
and swirls around
contemplating

my house is a wilderness from love

I laid each brick
blood upon blood
I cut down that old tree to make a door

please, come in to the wilderness of my heart

my faith is but a tumbleweed

Fleeing Frenzy

Even the birds seem
contused

Drifting on wind gusts
grasping to holds in the currents
barely breathing as air forces her way
inside

And each cloud
suffused
with vile clutter
barely hold a color
hardly hold the rain

Twisting knots from branches
trees shake their heads
as birds pass by
pleading

Mid-summer Micropoetry Collection

Scratching/ jagged letters/ in splintered wood// creating/ love 


Dirt | paints brick | of shame | the height of | Babel


Lights/ checker boarding/ ceiling / daring dreams to/ take a turn 


Dragon fly/ perches in the meadow/ sways/ with grassy/ limbs 


The truth | about waiting | leaves me | | helpless


The scent of | angels | makes even the flowers | seem | ordinary 


Muffling | silence | glass spasms | | words even seem | broken 


Our rivers | weave endlessly | breaking mud | becoming earth's | veins


Diamonds search | through | sun rays | for colors of | yesterday 

Photo by Rosie Hardy

Fascinated

I watched

our dreams burn down and ash

I wrapped our wounds in 

curtain

hearts spasmed

as so did the glass

windows imploding

God's breath rushing in

to chill our feverish skin

And I walk

from the corner

imagining rain clouds

will wash this away

laodicean

Murmuring,
birds are murmuring
betrayal
beneath nights silk clouds
limbo of hearts
carrier songs that only fall flat

muddied feet cross over
onto Jordan's shore
wiping sin into the grass
birds chime 'evermore'

Humming,
trees are,
humming
the song of 'evermore'

Street to Freedom

Photo by Neil Alexander

You're bleeding
out of each pore
rushing
against time

Pause and carry your pail
to the well of
dreams
your heart is running dry

Flowing along to life's trap
of course you cannot see
inside the struggling vein
is a person, almost free

Insomnia

After tonight 
daylight doesn't matter 
only life's eternal darkness


Sprinkles of sand 
fall across my face
blankets of evening
swaddle moon


Mountains grumble
off in the distance
as thieves of dreams
rob me

Blues

You will find him on the corner
wishing the sun turned to shelter
and he moon to water
There's a gap in his heart

He doesn't know the smell of love
the wildest winter
how to catch a June bug
There'a gap in his heart

Curls on his head bounce through each step
eyes of indifference
no power to start
There's a gap in his heart

Forgotten

Sifting sunlight through woven fabric
weaving wind into my hair
I wrap ideas around each secret
cradle wounds like
broken
babies
crying for love that never was

I called for you in summer stillness
etched stories in the gloom
I staggered through a billowy gust
Cried a river beneath blue moon

If I sit here a while longer
Will you remember?

Micropoetry (Spring and Early Summer)

Night/ shifts into morning/ I shift in my bed/ night/ mirror

Elbows bend/ cracking/ the impact of weight against/ ground/ I push myself back up

Such beauty in sadness. My soul is stilled in the night. A melancholy bliss.

Dusty sunset drifts over the mountains

Shy away from sunlight/ scoot from dark's night edge/ dusk/ dawn/ waiting

Sifting sunlight through woven fabric/ weaving wind/ into my hair/ an idea stirs in daylight

Shadows hiccup/ drinking sunlight/ from the clouds

Morning/ sifting through blinds/ caressing distant minds/ as they tumble back/ from secret dreams

Scars/ scatter/ across my body/ detailing/ my sorrow

The sunset/ bored/ with earth's details/ instead tie-dyes/ surprising the stars

Don't let there be silence/ for in silence/ there is war

Yellow ribbons/ fraying/ waving to each who pass/ hugging the tree/ feeling distant blasts

Soggy ceilings/ sinking floors/ reversible

Evolutionists/ of mediocrity/ we/ carry on/ a yesterday

Confidence

I stay true to myself in the silence
punch holes through the walls once built
constructed by fear of your
ignorance
Blamed by the ones who don't matter

I'll build a home where I'm whole again
trust my walls won't fall down
laughing, your windowless mansion
crumbles beneath my silence 

Find - One Shot Wednesday

Find yourself
lost in music

find yourself
wrapped up in words

find yourself
laughing without reason

Find yourself
Free