poetry & things

Poems

Winters like this

Cold clouds, white in the greying skies

deep, they loom in the snowy heights

a frozen state, this silent place

where we have come

Ice, thick walled, that waits for spring

the trickle of water, that flows beneath

to see beyond cloud occlusions

our doleful delusions

Buried by northerly drifts of snow

our love, cold and far below

banked and piled high

lost to winter’s long goodbye

Tricky weather

Only a desert of blowing dust

a junk yard of weathered metal rust

the brutal blare of scorching sun

the cold of winter’s raining snow

an ever changing, tricky season

a killing storm without reason

only a metaphor to explore

the hot and cold – of you

that I deplore.

Some lonely place

When you pass this way

will you think of our long burning hours

the melting, the rendering as one,

radiant, the raveling of our two souls?

Or will you think only of the untangling,

the tattering of our love – apart?

Will the evening shadows cast

a glow across the prairie fields,

the flowers that we picked?

Or will a wistful wind brush your face,

indelibly, now in some lonely place

where we once stood?

Salt water

First the soft biting

lips and all the rest

your hands, this landscape

a smooth curved road

of breath hot summer, the swelter

this endless sky, an ocean to discover

salt water of my lover

Of the ocean

You are of the ocean

of lime, salt water green seaweed

clinging, brown threaded, verily suspended

ebbing in the far off edges, unseen

steeped in luminous moons, mad colored

a time traveler, plumbing ageless depths of sea

strung with opulent pearls, swallowed by hourglass sands

a light discovered, bright in the shoal shimmering lands.

Fragmented dream

The air here is slow, it breathes like steam

a fog bank hovers, settles within

time does not tick ahead

I stare at minute hands

this room is silent snow

falling, colored blue – then drifts

cold through broken windows

a fragmented dream

of you

Woodland rains

The rain it pooled deep within the leaf, the hollow

and drank there – insect, vole and swallow

along a mud and marshy path, my feet for to follow

and tread upon the lichen moss, I sank softly greening

and watched all the day, the trickle of the woodland trees

the light that breathed there glistening

Storm

Swift, the rain in colors grey

black the daylight whisked away

by steely skies, charcoal smudged

the ashen clouds amid blowing winds

surreal this field, this pelted land

the scream of hurried birds, that scatter

Saguaro people

Cool cloud shrouded air, here where I find myself

surrounded by giants, legends, these mountains

I am miniscule as one grain of sand

the people here are giant, green saguaros

holey, with birds that live within

they are fit with wild reaching arms

guardians of the desert land

anchored, deeply grounded

in this whirling vortex

unhurriedly they grow

blooming yellow flowered

with petals that pale and fall

they are true friends

that I have come

to know

Picking rosemary

Blue flowered in the warm sun of winter

pungent fragrance wafts splendorous

smallish leaves, grow deeply green

with a sun-ward slant they lean

hum and sing with bees

reaching ever upward

wild, their fingers untamed

vigorous, they flourish

lushly in the lane

our hands grow green stained

here in a dream field

handfuls of rosemary

we steal

If in winter

Vast, this snowy land

still and deep the quiet country

cold the cloudy fog we breathe

gasping winds that rise and break the silence

along a fence line, slowly disappearing

how small the trees and distant hills that fade like smoke

and loom the clouds like ghosts, blooming madly white – the sky

if in winter we should meet deep along some snowy height

gazing as the grey and whites fade swiftly into night

some evening silently await the moon, void of words to speak

with great Peace – to breathe beneath the great north star that shines

In this wilderness

To end this, is to run blindly – falling

loose limbs wild and flailing

with hands that can no longer grasp

a saving grace, a final branch

we are lost in desolation

it is pure wilderness

a long winter’s night

with no path or tracks

to follow, cold like snow

we plow this landscape, barren

deep and dark below

to seep into the soul

lingering long in limbo

the ache of holding on

transformed into

the pain of

letting go

When I think of you

Storm clouds

of black thunder

electrical, magnetic powered

sparks lashing, loose wired

consumed by lightening fire

a wild red, blazing blue

hot, the smouldering coals of you

the final burning through

a certain kind of death

grey the ashes

of our truth

These things take time

These things take time

like the desert spiny lizard

now dessicated and dried

run over, flattened and tough as leather

too slow for the speed limit

of twenty five, found on my way

to check the mail, I mourned a little

always waiting for unpredictable things

to arrive, these things take time

like the rusting of street signs

the perfectly smooth stones

tumbled and refined

or today noticing the hole

in the sole of my shoe

that’s now worn through

there were ten days

of blaring hot sun, we melted some

but today, yes today

the clouds did come.

The night sky

Nightfall, dark with planets

cold desolate sky home

stars amid nebulous winds, swirling

cool, icing, caked in frozen states

cynosure of volatile fates

the fiery red that melts blue

tonight a slow float of milk clouds

a diaphanous, transient veil

drifts its way across

the moon, so pale

The Mirror

Lonesome

this dying fire

the darkening sky

now, barely a glint of sun

a dismal line of light

swift that fades into the night

starless black water

this mirror pool

reflections of

you and I

The mad sun

When I dream this desert turns green, blooms

clouds race where mountain lions loom

ash gray, the cool of blue rain comes

a redolent wind of desert sea

rushing waves, sand blown

sculpted saguaro forests

pale flowered yellow

drinking every drop

now this eve we drink

now before another dawn

of the mad thirsty sun

My lips are cracked leather

lizard dry, my breath melts into mirage

beetles emerge from dark caves

in flashes of iridescence, crawling

their tiny tracks, surreal sand paintings

art for cactus wren, hunting

Here, beyond yet another

sparkling diamond mound

lies a wild sea of the sailing ships, I’ve found

Of stars

Winter, the amber fire

of ashen woods, we burned

wet the smoulder of mire

the water and the fire

dark ancestress home

nights, moon shivering, cold

stars fixed or falling

beyond the skies fiery yields

only dying embers

lost in oblivion’s field

Into the woods

When I travel far from crowds

find myself grey, in the raining clouds

I run far into the cedar woods

of green and mossy loam

with birds, I fly from storms

deep in a world

sweet with maidenhair ferns

soft the moss, to touch

as newborn rabbit’s fur

many the hour

under sparkling trees

of yellow maples glistening

the chirping words, of smallest birds

that I can never see

echo sweet, I dream and sleep

sink into perfect peace

beneath the rainforest canopy

In the water

Cerulean blue, the mad rippling

how I crave water, sometimes even green

in Spring the melting of me

smooth stoned, to go slipping

pools and pools, swimming

to feel an ocean here inside

a storm of clouds collide

unhinged from fire’s dream

a torrent, a waterfall

of holy water

evaporating into

steam

In the river

To enter shallow water

feel the cooling cold of our toes

smooth the slippery stones

move, the deeper we go

to cross a blood red river

ever to dredge the soul

deep in places unknown

we walk through a door

though many still sleeping

remain waiting at

the shore

In the night sky

I am surrounded by night, windless

hot as fever, even more troubled

the places I’ve called home, abandoned

along with everyone, days in a desert alone

I speak to no one, only the sky

the night moon, my mother

whispers in metaphor

something brilliant

I tremble, quiver

in time with

the stars

Half moon day

Some days, this desert

under spells of sun and moon

think, I brood in fields of agave blue

the angled sun blares sharp to parch

to dry, to crackle leaves to dust

tricky this prickly pear cactus

bitter thorns, laden with

impossible blood sweet fruit

while high and seen out the corner

of my eye, the half moon smiles

beguiled by the sun

Gently (10w)

Be gentle as you breathe

your days away

all count

Fiery field

How I loved your mouth

the way your words belled forth

rang in soothing song

your lips and all the rest

days of coming home

in meadows or prairie suns

by love’s fiery field

how we were

consumed

Farewell my lover

Never call me, on nights fierce with storm

blowing wild with lightening, thunder

no never, and though fretful, I tremble

through raging rains

I go alone

Please don’t come over

leaving little notes, so clever

hot and cold, was our weather

farewell my lover

alas it is finally over

Ethereal flower

Love silent, falls

it touches soft, invisibly floats

unseen by the scope of eyes

comes brushing by, or comes in a down pouring,

wet washing the soul, unwavering, wordless it unfolds

travels most rugged terrain, smooths the way

there is no season for its efflorescence

it sits, a silent bud, any moment to flower

always we know it’s fragrance

it is the way, the path

a flitting, ethereal flower

one, that we can never grasp

Desert purification

Sonoran desert

sacred hot breathed

scorch of footsteps, blood red sands

sun bleached, grey boned skulls

this wash, a hallowed holy ghost

unnerving place, this hiss of fire

molten and slow

hot as fever, red prickling sweat

the Yaqui man you’ve met

undulating in a purification ceremony

lashing, the energy cords cut

he is laughing like coyote, wild eyed

green the velvet, desert peyote

and you have come to understand

the universe in a fleck of sand

Colors of day

Gathering colors of day

sea of green viridian, washing storms of grey

seagulls cry in shades colored blue

how mad the ocean’s raving tune

it sweeps away the end of day, a hopeful sun

to paint the sky of blackness

paleness of moon

rises, fades

beyond the sway

of silvery shades

night shimmers its way

into red and blue

where fiery clouds ignite

the day once more anew.

Beyond the deep end

I tried water

wading, floating, drowning

the pooling and spilling of years

immersed myself holy,

deeply to find the fear

dark in the deep end

the coming home to soul

the pain of it all

unknowingly I’d slept

heart wrecked

frozen in fear

unwilling to look

until there was

no other choice

until one day discovering

hidden truths beyond

my darkest 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

Troubled sky (haiku)

The moon has fallen

tonight a plum blackened sky

dark, this starless void

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

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

Parched

A thirsty desert dweller

my lips parched and cracked

from lack of rain

I wait for hours

days for love

to reign

North

Oh when I was north, cold

and white as snow geese

blue on water ice, I’d fly

glide on frozen ponds

cry with snowflake eyes

sigh of winter’s long goodbye

Night lilies 2

Tonight in this garden

a million flowers loom

clouds of gypsophila bloom

at my window and beyond

with fragrant vines, they crawl

saturate, scented paper walls

these night lilies, only a dalliance

that blooms and fades

your hands soft upon my legs

we are drunk from dulcet wine

sung from the whisper of moon that dips

caress of your reddened lips

as we travel in a world

lilting softly slow

Love and death

I am in the fire, my love

I cannot tarry, cannot extinguish

nor distinguish right from wrong

sometimes places I don’t belong

I am desolate in a desert, resurrected, burned

deep in fields of sage

a breath of fiery blaze

the pull and push away

I lay in a bed of ashes

feel this rebirth

watch another death

blow away.

Into the forest

Sink deep your feet

the moss and muddy floor

grey with rain

the weeping moss

hanging in the trees

ravens cry, calling thee

into the starless void

of moonless canopy

a hidden place

wherein the soul illuminates

a cynosure of deeper truths

a dark that lights the way

In wild fields

This house, it does not speak of me

I am unknown to these adobe walls

these cool clay floors

I press my feet against

wanderlust, I dance

desert nights alone, I roam

these sands to drink of moon

thirst for stars to call me home

I travel endless nights

painted blue with black

wait for sunlight

to warm my room

once more to lay

in wild fields

with you

In the deep water

Deep, a hundred fathoms or more

beneath froth and foam

azure seas fade into

blackest indigo

Flashing flecks, of minnows

in the deep waters, a shoal

a swimming wave that sways

in fields of orange coral

In the depths of cold

a glowing, ghostly art

a million silver stars

shimmer with light

flash amid water’s black sky

If

If I could see you shining

clear in mirrored waters

if you’d come to rest

in green fields

of peace

sweetly sleep

breathe in sync

with me

I will look for you

When I wait for northern lights, the sky void of moon

and too the sun has gone, a silence of blue green light comes

like colored ghosts of whirling skies, it flies

and I no longer think of stars

I can only dream to fly, to shine

magenta in magnetic fields

But tonight it is you

that burns across, beyond the heavens

dazzling brilliantly, now beyond this earthly plane

to join a symphony of seas and stars out there, unknown

gathering in the ethers of forever

Last night I dreamed of you

smiling, as you laid

in green fields laughing

and tonight I will see you

in the northern lights

shining

How black water breathes

Nights, we take the boat out

paddle our way, green through water

swum by inlet waves, full moon apace

shadowy, ancient tribal faced

lose all trace of the shore, black

but for phosphorescence

glowing, trailing from the oars

a haunting, ghostly art

green and breathing, disappearing

back into darkness, swallowed

by black water, by night

strange this death,

the rebirth and breath

felt in each and every moment

Dragoon road

When I drive that road

past sun bleached stones

of minerals and bones

take the turn off at Dragoon

fly past cattle guards and farms

the road that leads

to your house

my view askew

a parallax

I rue

desolate

the cold

moon-blue

of you.

Desert cemetery

It was desolate, with a winter cold

we drove the cemetery road

miles past sage brush and cactus

Saw signs pointing toward a ghost town

we turned onto a gravel road

leading to the desert cemetery

an abandoned place, mostly unknown

Many headstones old and eerie

cowboys and ranchers plenty

hazards of the pioneer west

babies, children of homesteaders

laid too young to rest

Hand fashioned crosses

still stood, marking graves

without a word

I thought how

each of us one day

will be forever unknown

Crossing the desert

Sometimes

before you arrive

I imagine the drive

the dusty winds

roads blown sand blind

the breath hot desert

red upon your back

the drown of dripping sweat

a mirage, a swimming lake

an oasis, of mind escape

how you travel as saguaro fields fly by

Blue lily pond

Early in the morning

blue skies of birdsong

winging in summer

sing sweetly of dawn

awakened from dreaming

the day is unfolding with love

early in the morning with the sun

open the blossoms at blue lily pond

no words spoken only reflection within

early in the morning with the sun.

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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.

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