know, knowing, knew

I don’t ever know what I mean
I don’t ever mean what I say
does that help
if you know me
you’d know
I miss knowing
not knowing what it was
I never knew
about you
I hope you’re following
me right now
are you
or is this too
confusing
this not knowing
makes me a bit blue
not stockings around the neck blue
just sad, quite sad
knowing you’re out there
floating
makes things better in here
“clever girl”
that’s what the hatted Jurassic Park hunter utters
before velociraptors enjoy their steak tartar
let’s backup
start over
I’m tired of searching
not knowing

I’m tired of marching forward
time does not play fair

can you follow this
me?

I speak in tongues
forked

no one can know
not even me
follow?
or are you as confused
as I am

swirl skating

swirl skating

’tis Fried Day and the brain has not escaped the frying pan fire this week – happy weekend – thank you

I got your back

he’s broad chested with muscular legs
the earmarks of a pugilist
certainly channels the spirit of one
dark eyes, alert and piercing
we walk together every day
chatting about the weather
guessing what time the mail will arrive
every once in awhile
not far off
we hear a garrulous and bellowing
call of the wild
neither of us are
too wild
(I pray I still am a little)
the deep hoarse sounds are taller than
his six inch to shoulder height
he tosses me up a knowing gaze
he will do what he must to protect
the one who often places him in shadow
on the sunniest of days
gazing down at my little Dachshund
I whisper loudly enough for my words
to enter those flopping velvet ears
“I got your back, Mojo”
I got your back

Dog Kite

Dog Kite

on windy days like today, while walking Mojo, I often imagine him flying up in the air like a little kite – silly graphic created last year

she likes curves as much as the next guy

she likes curves as much as the next guy
your supple lips create a secret shadow
she dreams of hiding in
those amazing shoulders of yours
burst into perfect half-moons
she adores the curve of your back
how your lats run down into a sinewy v
on your well-formed biceps
she imagines suns rising and setting
on those glutes
ah, yes those magnificent rounded caps
leading to the sweeping arcs of your sculpted tendons
she visualizes your body thrusting into forward motion
with all those powerful curves
yes, my friends
the ladies like curves too

from behind

from behind

this fellow sketched last year at a wrestling match

could it be so simple

I wonder what you’d say
if I wasn’t kissing your lips right now
is there someone else on your mind
or do I alone
satisfy all the places in your body
entering by mouth
would your words place feathers
into my wings
serve as a silk path
beneath my bare feet
could it be so simple
this kiss
inertia in relationship time
I crave the honor of knowing your mouth
I desire the ability of understanding your motivation
your lips are etching lines into my heart
I’m usually so much more resilient
this is a bit unnerving
too many explosions going off
in my head
you are in there lighting up cannons
if I let go
gravity will pull me into you
I’m not sure why you can do this to me
when so many others have failed
I fear failure

if this kiss is authentic
I might just be in love
with your lips
and all the other spaces in your body
could it be so simple

dragondragon lady created last year with prisma pencil-thank you

did I ever tell you this story

did I ever tell you this story
she doesn’t actually ask
if she did, I’d lie anyway
why not
she often relives these moments
snared in an autobiographical time warp
when her smile bared genuine enamel
and her skin was fleshy seashell pink
she flashes through these moments
speaking with an age from back then

the crystal ball stops rolling
arthritis ceases its assault on her worn-down bones
her long gorgeous model’s legs take a catwalk
voted best legs in the class
did I tell you that
yes, but you don’t remember do you
lying for those legs
lying for this woman
she cartwheels back
memories are liquified Ponce de León
bottled water I would steal
she continues
regaling in moments of perfect laughter
with a doctor friend
sharing smokes, drinks
things I can’t share here
I’m driving the highway so I can’t keep looking her way
and nodding in the “newness” of this memory
I’ve heard this particular tale
many times
don’t know if someone will be around to listen
to my stories
I’m glad her beautiful legs aren’t causing her pain now
in this crystallized moment
studio
glossy from one of my mother-in-law’s modelling studio sessions
(can’t recall photographer’s name to give proper credit)

still missing you

This is a post from September of last year. Three weeks after I originally wrote this, Rocky died. The amazing thing for this exceptional animal was that he passed away peacefully in our home right after we all said goodbye that night and the very day before my mother-in-law moved in. His illness would have made a difficult transition for her even more trying. I cannot believe how much he is still missed. The good ones always are.

I think I made you sick after you showed up on my blue canvas. A painting I patted myself on the shoulder for. I’m so very sorry, my dear friend. Did I do that to you? And it is too late now. I can take nothing back. Not one thing. I should have castrated my selfish fingers. You were saying you were sick. I didn’t hear your silent words. I wasn’t listening. For two months, I think it was two months, I can’t remember exactly–I was buried in my meaningful life. You kept hanging around my studio. You hadn’t ever done that before. Well you had, but not to stay. You’d give a gentle hello then return to your usual places, ones of comfort like the sofa by the piano. We called it “your bed,” not our couch. Actually it was a love seat. The couch knew more than I. It knew how to comfort and be there accepting the additional weight of the masses spreading inside you. The casual invaders I’d grown too busy to notice.

And now, I watch your chest breathing up and down. It is your heart saying goodbye. I’m listening now my friend. I am listening now. Please forgive me when I must say my final goodbye to you and mean it from the depth of my selfish soul.

blue boys

blue boys

Rocky the Shepherd and Mojo the Dachshund – painted last year, forever hanging above our mantel

Britcom conversation

Sometimes it’s nice to lighten up and relax especially sailing into a cool weekend. No heavy thinking, writing or mind stomping. I don’t know about you, but watching an old Britcom while pushing on a damn elliptical that resembles Satan with exceptionally long black twisting horns does a heart glad. I’d like to share a few humorous lines I enjoyed this morning while sweating. In the situation comedy Keeping Up Appearances (Season 1, Episode 7) two married characters are having a conversation in bed.

Daisy- “We hardly have any conversation these days. Even when we make love you rarely speak to me, especially when we make love you rarely speak to me.”

Onslow- “You think doing two things at once is a formula for success?”

Daisy- “It’s just, at times like that, a woman likes a little confirmation that there’s actually somebody there.”

Onslow- “It’s that memorable is it?”

Two Head

a silly graphic from last year-thank you

bein’

is that all there is
have you given everythin’ you got
if this is it
all there is
and there ain’t anymore
why you not pushin’
mind
body
spirit
all the way
what ya doin’
I’ve been waitin’ here
for you
always
to stop bein’ you
and start
bein’

aren’t I worth an effort
you certainly are
glimmers be there
though you hide ’em as best ya can
I know you
I know you
I wish you was inside me now
man, the things we would do
could do
together
don’t ya know
I’d never hurt you
never
I get you
need you so bad
to understand
c’mon

better getta move on
time to steel those wobblin’ guts
have I given’ it my all
man up, AM (insert your initials here)
what the hell
ya waitin’ for
hurry up
before you
and yer words
fade away
to nuttin’
washed-out-selfie
don’t usually post my face but I liked fading the image away with the words-thank you

the explorers

why do we search for things we cannot find
do we need what we do not have
crave something we should not lack
as for me
my life is full
packed with faces
dreams escape in curves and pencils
nightmares pour into warm merlot
always warm
no cold going down my throat
even on scalding days
why do we search for things we cannot find
am I a coward
are you
not measuring true
cheating on the particulars
how long must she
moan
about this and that and them and him
always unclear
with clarity of purpose
why do we search for things we cannot find
what made them sail outward and away
venture into the vastness of the intimidating sea
a blank globe
seeking
needing what they did not have
craving something they did not lack
but wanting all the same
island pirate mask coolthis guy is mixed in media done last year

river to ocean

guidance
we seek
inhaling cool unbroken dawns
shrouded beneath starless skies
through prayer hands of gods
the pure eyes of beasts
the wet lips of lovers
we grasp
rationales for our
unadulterated existence
baring distractions
desiring naked truths
of us
in us
this sense of being
purpose
walking a planet begrudgingly shared

we will discover nothing
if not ourselves
first
in the calm of our own private moments
peace ripples
river to ocean
first oceanthe only ocean painting I’ve done in my life