outside echoes

almost frightens me, returning to these older pieces and rewriting them entirely, save a salvageable line or two
what’s scary is how I thought the originals – when written – were halfway decent
I took this photo off my back deck a few weeks ago

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in the blueless

back and forth back and forth back and forth
splattering rain, this redundancy of motion
the last hopeful sky un-recalled
this bleak morning, too early for the sun
a thousand immolating balls can’t bring warmth to this day
God is false hope manufactured by bible companies
angels are myths playing dress-up for lingerie chains
a broken deer on the side of the road
wonder if she knew
from the looks of her cracked torso, I doubt it
some car folded her body like a dollar store blanket
the lifeless trees are no better than emaciated throats and fingers
nothing for them to swallow
nothing to grab onto
nothing for me
nothing for us
they will remain naked
I remember you, inside me
moonlight and indigo lovemaking
tick tock tick tock tick tock
blinker irritating
another road, same lousy scenery
silver lining lately on a bottle of red and designer label
paying a bit more than usual for spirits, cheer costs
this blueless is overwhelming
the radio melodies on
gently at first
she floats into my interior dystopia
Sarah Vaughan’s nuanced soul
and I know, I will believe in angels again
someday

leonada’s earring

 

illuminated with dark thoughts

this morning like so many other mornings
waiting for the sun to rise up and grant us
another opportunity to make it right
anything or anyone we may have wronged
or perhaps
more in the drama of later moonlight
the subtle possibility
we might make something of ourselves
while we are gifted here to earth
gravity holding us
balancing our bodies
we can’t do it alone
we are
each like a small sparkle
brighter than starlight
if you believe in such frivolous gaiety

I for one do not
you see
I am illuminated with dark thoughts
I am a lying pessimist
yearning for the truth of optimism
in a world peppered with road rage salt
silly in fact am I
that I would compose such a lifeless line
seasoned with black and white culinary fare
thinking how clever
how wise
three of them
one of me
guided by northern light
yea I can keep going with this crap
like I said
I am illuminated with dark thoughts
brightened only by the singular prospect
of you
in you

I am a most excellent liar
for I am not a lying pessimist
in truth
I am an eternal optimist
I am a gut-wrenching lame ass
I do believe in humanity
I do believe that behind words
cast like fishermen nets
people dwell
behind all the world’s false twinkling
the light of some truth bleeds out
through infinitesimal skin scrapes
the largest wounds

why do I believe myself an optimist
my one technological treasure
in the 1980’s when VCRs were introduced
many adults fancied themselves harbingers of theatrical doom
“there go the movie houses”
“there die our cinematic experiences”
a lame ass heart quietly rallied
the same lame ass heart always praying for white Christmases
to this day
“my local theatre won’t go out of business people need people”
“people need people”
“we want to enjoy experiences together”
“hear laughter”
“communally sob – not sad alone”
“clap”
“eat popcorn and slurp giants”
“we want to suck face in the back row”
“hold hands in the middle”
“wait for his arm to wrap my shoulder”

I am a most excellent liar
fooling my own heart into believing
if I can do this
it will bleed out
others will sense my fake joy
they might smile
it will start
this morning like so many other mornings
waiting for the sun to rise up and grant us
another opportunity to make it right
there is a sneaking warmth
creeping like crackling fire
and Christmas snow

Harem Eyes

Harem Eyes

 

deep into my life

you are so deep into my life
I don’t remember the feel of my skin alone
you are all I long for each day, your body and mine
hearts, heads, hands
all parts in between
and below
fiercely joined, not the iceberg
that sank the unsinkable
dare pierce our flesh
you and I
float on something greater
catastrophic winds hold no bearing
across our sails
the compass of our bond guides true
would a mighty mountain black out the sun
no mourning of light
or heat for that matter
need be honored

we are self-contained
a brilliant vessel of fire
striking flames on sheets
laughing with moonlight
sharing secrets in locked embraces
my entire core flowing within yours
it is for all these most magnificent reasons
I
must

leave
the union we share is too ungodly powerful
there is not a moment of air singularly mine
the intoxication of our mixing flesh
wobbles my entire body
forever in fog
not walking clearly
mist evaporating only by your presence
it’s not right
we weather any elemental affliction
together for certain
but I fear these soul libations
toxi-fying my blood
before I grow a milligram weaker
I will walk away
with both feet on the ground
back turned to you
yet

I will mourn every granule of flesh
I must dig away
to make a whole

Warrior Lashes

Warrior Lashes

this art I thought fitting for the piece, as this gal is a warrior and the person in the verse is ‘trying’ to be
though I’m truly not sure if she behaving selfishly or selflessly or cowardly

imagining rain

the sky showers down in shimmering rivulets
cleansing the earth of leftovers
something we planet guardians don’t do well
cloud masses end load the cycle
pouring so hard sometimes
dearest pets have been given over to frame the scene
the water is exquisite in its clean smell
vertical rivers stream to feed the parched
those below drink the life giving stuff and absorb the mist
beyond illusion or imagery of form to paint this memory
it is light itself
breath from heaven

yet
here I am, older
fancied up in a lace-lined number for celebrating
heels, so I stand fake slim at six feet tall
makeup applied hoping I might fool some years away
and all I can say about this gorgeous rain is
CRAP
my makeup is gonna run
MarilynMM is a 2′ tall print from a litho plate I painstakingly etched in college
I used this particular art thinking how we can sometimes be
a bit outside-centric rather than inside-evolved

(I’m ashamed to admit I’m guilty of this from time to time)

MM’s photo reference from the talented photographer Philippe Halsman (1906-1973)

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

swimming on the soil

in the series of liquid drops that fall from the sky
I draw a puddle of the world
a crystal ball to sieve my thoughts
universal ramblings sometimes shimmer
here within this watery dimple
beneath the shallow surface
deep dissonance
my sonar, far from a bat’s
still can locate earthen skin
hair bronzed by morning light
eyes ocean aqua
and a heart not quite complete
tears I believe to be mine
join their brothers and sisters
swimming on the soil
early summer winds shove the late spring clouds into the sun
the puddle washes into black
my crystal ball collapses

the funny thing is
when the sunlight returns
you’ll completely disappear
and the only thing that can save you now
are the puddles in your own head

mint eyes

mint eyes

vague recollections

when we were at our worst
the best we could muster were vague recollections
our last bitter months spent
immersed in the sickness we’d become
like so many others
we choose to throw up our hands
and wave that featureless flag
rather than fight the disease
that had invaded our trust, plagued our bond
I changed the locks
praying a shiny new key might open another door –
far away from our self-imposed afflictions
while your damaged heart became wanton host
to modified digital faces with piled-on profiles
in a very short while
what had once been genuine longing and unchecked passion
vanished
like a promising placebo chased down with vodka

swirl skating

swirl skating

Ominous Offenders

Yesterday,
the wind here was like the ocean –
bullying gusts rolled into tormenting waves
The confused sky was yellow-grey
It might have been monsoon midnight over the skeleton coast
Animated by the electrified air,
stoic garbage cans turned into ominous offenders –
their tight-lipped mouths pried open
by Mother Nature’s fists
Twisted secrets and crushed dreams spilled out
Concealed leftovers laid bare for all to see
Efforts were made
to reclaim the whispers – hide the evidence
restore the perfect order
On a calmer day,
those locked mouths should remain shut

ominous offender

blur

dancing in a deluge
freezing wet arrows pierce your body
everything blurs
could go exploring in the rain
determined to the ends of the earth
driven to the bottom of the oceans
like a wide-eyed child
searching
always searching
for a meaningful destiny
you don’t accept plain living
a grand enough purpose
even after the cold water
has cleared your vision
and washed the mud off your face
boy with green glowing eyes
wide-eyed previously published