poetry & things

Poems

September

Walking the dirt path, down around

the gold brown hills that spill into the orchard

apples baked in the oven, sun of summer

and in September they are done

red, we dressed with honey cinnamon

the air was bliss, the trees, the ancient harvest

with baskets full, the way our hearts overflowed

this was a place we called heaven, but now you are in the trees

in the sweeping fields of turquoise seas, in the stars that never cease

here, where you once imagined and could only dream to remain as ever

Summer of fire

Thirsty, a parched pale yellow

this milkweed, dandelion field

dried silky seeds blowing wild

hot cracking leaves

lightening trees afire

forests and burning meadows

with eyes that sting

I can but see, spectrally

the smokey sun

breathe a deathly air

that chokes the lungs

creatures gasp and run

in moments ever dire

they flee frightfully

amid falling trees

of fire

Troubled sky (haiku)

The moon has fallen

tonight a plum blackened sky

dark, this starless void

Your kiss

My heart of sleeplessness

awakens me foolish

moonless from my rest

ache of cells and blood

a torrent, a flood

a rushing river

reaching for your hand

your reddened lips

soft a place to land

Douglas, AZ

It was Spring

we drove the narrow highway

southward from Bisbee to Douglas

near to the Mexican border

The town was poor

there were discount stores

sales and signs written in Spanish

there were silk flower shops

brightly colored bouquets

people carrying funeral arrangements

Many were the words

spoken in Spanish

many the beautiful

brown skinned people

all around the town, and soon we found

that we were quite strange

and oddly, apparently foreign

Dream

This morning, upon my wall

with lilies, lilies tall

sun shadows

the beauty

of it

all

Colors

and flowers

birds of dawn

in the singing trees

has only ever been a dream

Haunting

Mouth, hands and all the rest

the way you dressed your words

a sort of singing, musical, fanciful

the captivating notes

how they lured me

I fled to escape

your haunting ways

whispers still that

keep me

awake

How night falls

A fevered pulse

though sweat moves slow

as night falls

fast upon our bed

breath of steam

we float like dream

to fill the hollows

sink, we swallow

the light of gold

we seek to follow

hear a blue calling

under the ache of stars

as the moon blooms

softly sallow.

Mongolian women

These women, they are old

in touch with ancient ways

the dredging of deeper points

they’ve come to know

and show, without hiding

Their faces are worn weathered maps

lines and holy roads

with soulful eyes

smiling they settle

and sit you down

beside them

In their circle of fire and knowing

these women of the earth

serve milky tea and mirth

their laughter resounds

it pounds the heart

grounds you there

in the fervent pureness

of your tears

Only a smouldering pyre

This desert, with blinding beauty burns

a season of birds, always coming, going

before the sun, the raining grey of clouds

we traveled miles over hills leading up and outward

with all its budding ways, the glowing days of May

fragrant petals faded into summer

scorch of our lips, how we slipped

into the ways of reign and fire

our love, only a smouldering pyre

Sometimes love

This is a familiar vigil

a walk that turns to run

a drenching lovely rain

a practiced pain

that melts of

scorching sun

Only a taboo train

for immigrants

castaways rolling

steel wheeled

waiting to derail

Still we enter

this frightful tunnel

through blinding blackness

the heart we gamble

to reach the other side

Tangled

That grasping glance

the moment we don’t look back

the fall and plunge, the coming undone

drinking deep of August’s moon

sweet the jasmine vines

spilling with perfume

the impossible tangling

of we two

The hissing sun

A susurrus wind

of chaparral lingers on

after the rain, in the heat of day

behind mountainous clouds

the hissing sun will scarcely fade

until at dusk it finally crawls

and swiftly snakes away.

Tonight’s game

Moon winds pretend to know me

clouds steal the sky away

never knowing my name

only a diaphanous veil

what game

night stars

play

My fate

These nights, this lonely space

blue or black, that starless looms

strange orbit pulls me to you

our misaligned planetary arrangement

spend my days ruled by the sun

but nights I trip, faint in a nebulous field

dream in colorful clouds of sighs, with you

tis’ only my fate, I can never escape

only linger under magnetic moons.

Night rain

It came softly warm, mist of fragrant showers

garden flowers of parchment petals

drank of sun, of moon, of rain

silent, the Perseid showers

a falling sea of rain.

The call of your name

There was a bird, that time, a flicker

they always remind me of you

the melt of spring fever, the tapping on the roof

how like snow, the petals flew

that window, the rain, the rainbows too

the breath and sigh of you

our springtime walks

the way the forest talked

soon of summer to come

we were completely undone

unchained in the falling rains

sweet like music the call

of your name.

The dream of you

Your eyes are blue water

lovely drowning pools, I swim

some days

seemingly the sun

across summer fields

always, daisies moving toward you

an uprooted child, replanted

you flourish in earth and sky

dirt black hands in loamy soils

deeply rooted from the core

your salty sweet lips

are orchard fruits and fields to kiss

your arms hold worlds of weight

or fragrant flowers to embrace

with gentle wings, you’ve come

softly touching down, a ripple, a rainfall

washing clear my soul – undone

Daydream in summer

Clouds, I drift upwards

lofty float with billowing, pillowy thoughts

to places high and heavenly sought

bathed in sun dappled warmth

see the greening leaves brought forth

fruition and flowery goals

some secrets of nature I can never know

see how days forever go

feel how summer encircles

my soul.

Forest dawn

Where sleeps the crescent moon

and drifts bright stars away

to bring a song of light

glowing from a thicket there

where tawny birds take flight

or dappled in the wooded trees

foggy breathes the morning light

with rousing sounds of faeries there

drowsy in their dreaming cares

they bid farewell unto the night,

to stars that sail swift into the evanescent light.

Now springs another day from this woodland place

soft with mossy grays or starry lichen lace

green the leafy ferns will wake

with scented rains, wet upon the bark

incense cedars drift and swirl

sweet, the air of smoke

until alas the sun, so brilliant comes

from behind a clouded cloak

and disappears once more

the dawn that softly spoke.

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