long afterward

he approaches with a tender smile
his wet eyes, lost to other thoughts
she takes him in her arms
wrapping his broad shoulders
she remembers a lifetime ago
holding his entire body in her hands
he is a man
he is a child
their quiet embrace, these silent words

his sadness, the foaming ocean
fear like predators circling
waiting to take away what is given over
his flushed face sinks into her shoulder
his tears pool in the bowl of her clavicle
the dry hot summer air freezes
she squeezes him tighter
I’m still here holding onto you
until you are ready to swim
someday I too will disappear into the middle of the ocean
though you are a strong swimmer now
you must let me float away
after I am gone

there will be sunsets,
and sunrises
where I hope to see your beautiful smile

wood nymph

wood nymph

my son’s good friend, lost his mother last night
she was an exceptionally brave woman

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songs of silences

deformed putty pink

robbed of warm breath

contorted sweet necks
tar bubble eyes bulging

frail unfeathered waxy torn

foiled unsung tiny raptors

never will gush
broad kite wings against the wind

meander upon the thermals

dead
before
winter’s white bone chanced a kill
stuffed down bright 
spring’s dark bosom

stalks cradled
strapped with dried fall grass

gentle summer kisses will not carry
overlapping notes 
sung in threes

new harmonies in pubescent throats

echoing from fresh limb to sailing cloud

undeveloped triplets all

delicate melodies
small and quieted

in the driveway
sad little chicks

stilled
 baby birds
in her songs of silences
nature candidly reminds us

she is both
judge and jury
warblerI wish this piece wasn’t here or anywhere else – but I hope it serves as a eulogy
for those baby birds – may they fly in eternal peace

art created last year for an illustrated project

gently now

humble citizens eternally petrified 
warm mammoths ice entombed
broken vessels anchored deep
hard lessons in dying
peaceful silence

go gently now
gently

stallion skeleton

the old pyramid trick…inverted word triangle pointing to nowhere, or is it nowhere?
my, my, my crazy WP day with media snafus, love technology when it works:) though I must say the WP gremlins were fabulously helpful

attached graveyard

Crowns/pastel

praying
in the ethereal dark
hallelujah

sweet 
lights caress the chapel windows
cut glass haloed faces
above the nave


one if by wishing

two if by God
swaying
shoulders tangent in hope


song collective

hymnals in tufted tongues
touching cornerstones

sublime faith
only the sure-of-heart dare follow

they pray
as do I


singing

angel ears outward bound
palms dutifully spread across the tabernacle
now fanned above the pulpit


down the aisles

past the pews

velveteen chattering knee rests
hit the floor like explosions
in the christened air

beyond the comatose vestibule 

where the marbled floor ends

as do 
the blessed copper receptacles
lost lambs


and renegade sheep

must wait outside

in the attached
 graveyard

 

I went to elementary Catholic school and attended Mass through my teens –
I pray I’ve taken away the best part
my children know to–
be kind, be decent, be proud, be humble,
love with your heart not your eyes
welcome others with your heart not your eyes
(be safe too!)

pastel done in the ’80’s when I was an agitated 20-something;)

party on, Nina

those eyes still haunt me
huge echoing eyes
and that small painful smile
you had so many other smiles
why is it the small one I remember
and the effort you took to make it
just for me
if I focus, I can see the bright smiles
your black shining eyes, icing on the cake
back when you were healthy
before life decided what it wanted to do with you
as it will all of us
God, I miss you still
Glenn Miller helps
singing and swinging up there on a cloud of pasta
and chicken soup with tiny meatballs
party on, Nina
party on

My Charlie

My Charlie

Charlie was a great pink stuffed dog that Nina gave me many Christmases ago…

how to stop missing you

How to stop missing you
I’ve no idea
Don’t want to keep thinking
how much
We are here
then we’re not
The concept makes complete sense
practical really
My head wraps around the saneness
of the notion
Not enough room for everyone
Sustainability is not possible
Resources will crumble

We must be but a bit of space
a snippet of time
It’s universal law
It’s worldly wisdom
And all that shit
Logical
Practical formality
We are here
then we’re not
That’s all there is to it
Seize the moment
Grip your lover
Hug your child

How to stop missing you
I’ve no idea

I am here
but
you are not
for all its logic
I cannot stop crying

Dancing Flames

Dancing Flames

dancing flames published before, fire for cold is warm for life

billowy tail

this morning, my friend
I thought I heard you
thumping the stairs
more excited for my arrival
than old socks
warm from the dryer
I expected to see you there
a big smile for me
and the new day
rays of sun
reaching with tender heat
my friend
I must remember not to gaze down
to the bottom step
every sunup
the thumps I hear
are not yours
but my heart
stuck in sad echo
still missing you
so I must work harder
at remembering to look up
to find your smile there
 in a billowy cloud
the one with a thumping tail
ROcky and Mojo head tilt

digging deep

Often times we strive for deeper meaning
exchanging heartbeats for assurances
in our relationships
in our careers

in our beds
in our thoughts
in our art
in our spirituality

often times we must content ourselves with just scratching the surface
realizing the deeper we dig
the more heartbeats flutter away
and

the less light we see from above
lashestake for example this character, not sure where she came from and didn’t think about it while creating her yesterday…

and so we spin…

do you ever think about how the world is?
a giant sphere
spinning and spinning
on an invisible stick
rotating around
a burning explosive star

we’re on this ball
going round and round
like a cheap carnival ride
and
we’ve no choice about the spinning or the rotating
we can’t even decide if we want take the ride

the only decision we make is
how firmly we will plant our feet on the ground
with the time we have
so we don’t fall off when we’re spinning

and spinning and spinning…

Eleman Suit

Eleman Suit

art previously published