The vibrations ease into me, soothing my bones
I stare into the black abyss ahead
the only illumination from the spotlights on the metal beast
Conversation has come to lull.
I fight the urge to be drug deep into the darkness
My body fights to maintain control
But soon it’s too much
that mysterious feeling
the one where you lose control of your mind
and you fade into sleep
The exotic Mimosa,
with flowering, fragrant,
soft silky coral red flowers,
folding green leaves,
a natural expression of art;
one of Mother Nature’s
most exquisite
and beautiful bouquets,
with a tropical elegance,
that evokes a beauty
like a vibrant rainbow.
my tongue
thick with insult and fizzy spit
pours at the limbs
of someone i will not remember and choose to not know.
i circle thumbs to avoid chewing them off.
teething at my big age. livelihood left at the mercy of hunger and guilt. i will be swift. my crooked teeth will slice to kill.
once blood is spilt;
once i am stained.
i practice restraint, wrapped as a baby
in plastic
i refrain.
soul for Satan
That’s how long you stood in front of me.
Enough to change the directory of my day.
“Who the fuck wears orange?”
Knight in shining armor
do you want me to save you?
You know you owe me…
Riddle me this,
how does three months of you and I
turn into three minutes of pure torture?
You and three friends
Me and three co-workers
three hours of hearts beating outside my chest.
Honey, if I told you,
I never want to see you again,
would you find me one more time?
a dozen framed sunflowers hang behind my bed–
sketches, pastels, acrylics, screen-print on rice, an oil,
by artists young, not as young, of various histories.
today, I enter gatewood-waddell’s. three watercolored
beauties looking round and about. oh, my dears, i say,
and remind them, we face west. long past time clytie
got over apollo. but they remind me to halt
my pessimistic ways. turn us all back to the east,
to this new day. forever we must follow,
forever gifts of nature.
forever magicical.
Rain shivers down the car door’s insides and I
Words and phrases
jotted on little papers
ripped off envelope flaps
corners of magazines
and store receipt backs
Scribblings land everywhere throughout the day
Like molted feathers resting where they may
And when the window opened
they all flew with the breeze
like hellish moving bees
airborne midair rearranging
relationships quick-changing
a short soar
to the floor
No rhyme or reason entered the matter
Though I found a poem laying in the scatter
Touching down
Birds return to their roost
Home from the journey
Safe at last
Secure, content, smiling eyes
The sea, calm after the storm
Dusk, twilight, wings folded in
Is it weak?
When someone shouts about their experience
How loud they yell
The shouts they heard
And I reflect
And see the vast forest in which the shade of memories hide
So quite, so loud
Both so loud.
A forges hammer to become cold steel
But does that steel still cry?
Is it ok to cry?
Did the hammer care for the steel,
Did the fire brush away the slag
Did the water lull the sledge, the scythe, the plow, the tool, the used.
Why do they shout so loud?
I go to join but hesitate
If their voice is so loud
With the fires and trials they face
Would my memories crack stone
My voice thunder across plains
Would it wreck the same damage
I see in myself?
Or would it be a whisp?
“Stop”. Please
