It was soft, a purple shade
lavender, lilac made
of flowers warm, we breathed
deep the inhale, swirling round
sweet the exhale, falling to the ground
reaching deep in soul
the sink, the swallow
birds of spring
songs to fill
the hollows.
It was soft, a purple shade
lavender, lilac made
of flowers warm, we breathed
deep the inhale, swirling round
sweet the exhale, falling to the ground
reaching deep in soul
the sink, the swallow
birds of spring
songs to fill
the hollows.
How you flew, newly feathered
a fledgling falling from the sky
but upwinds sailed you far and high
carried you, strong through clouds
winged and wild your arms
fingers running through
the updrafts of cold,
cooling, warm.
In a drowning river I went – to swim
only a short while with you
the flail and falter of cruel water
caught in the reigning thunder
impossible to breathe when held under
yours was a killing lure to be sure
a death trap of words
but no steel cage can ever hold
a sky full of beautiful birds.
Wind and dark the night I pine
stark the grasp of longing
branched and vined
blue mourning
deep in soul
an echo
calling
When through my fingers
your hand slips
taste of your
fleeting kiss
lingers
drifts
Paper winged
when torn, I stutter, stammer
spiraling and falling
only in dreams softly sweet
once more a butterfly
brilliantly winging
When winter melts
footprints of mud, this path
now a screen of green
I cannot see, lost I listen for
calling words, the haunt of forest birds
cry, they call before the storm
deep a swell of rain pours
that wild, brings another Spring
mossy soft this budding floor
mist and petrichor that waft
attract, they meld and melt
sweet into the soul
Watching a turbulent sky
birds in the drowning clouds, cry
I am waiting for the spring, the change
the variance of green
waiting for you, a fool
swim, I drown in this moon-pool
dark down a tunnel of night
I make my way by braille
only to touch, to see
a rivulet of rain
before the sun
that swells of red
and strays away
the day, a heart
that long ago
fled
This is the shadowed imprint, the trace left
ice melt and sea drift of time erased
soft-shod footfalls once apace
this ancient path we travel by
wild with beasts, fledgling trees
of downy wings
we cry, learn to fly
stay awake to see the night
how light penetrates
moon tangled through trees
our souls to illuminate
stars light the way
carry us ever further away
once per chance, never again
until morning
My heart a fevered pulse
haywire fuse of sparks
an ignition, a lock, a key
turns, follows, leads
In a world unknown
our days, sweet, slow
we glide, float like moon
glowing through trees
the shine of dream
here where the hours are slowed
here where one is left
two-souled
With night, my love brings a paling flower
brings me full bloomed, a drenching petal shower
disheveled, falling to the ground
until our colors run out
the burst and shatter
delightfully tattered
the killing hour
he brings
Early, this silent earth
in the stillness before sound comes
before the sky, the narrow line of light that forms
my ears not yet attuned to this world
search for noise, waiting for the first bird
then soon a chiming bell of birds
a cactus wren that comes to drink of sun
or deeply sweet, the air with mourning doves
that woo and coo before the dawn
a soothing balm, a bliss that fills my head
This valley, belly and backboned
a blanket of snow – stitched and gone
textured trees, willows wind blown
here where an early moon heaven still hovers
here amid the last smoking sky of cold
a chirping of morning birds unfolds
singing a gleeful goodbye to the moon night
winging before the sunrise
the blooming of daffodil springtime
and too, wisteria tangled vines will climb
reach for the calm of violet skies.
Celestial, indigo
sparkling stars of fire
molten rings of planets round
the silent sailing clouds
float across a sallow moon
hung in a sky of glittered jewels
diamonds, opals, pearls
The final blue hours of day
the falling to your sway
the mad of reason slipping away
under the pale moon, of night’s dawn
with stars all strung, you’ll come
so soon to taste, to kiss me
a crushing fire, to quench
to melt, to take me
High in hills, winds the road to your home
steeped and flowered by lupine towers
after long slumber, the waking hour – warmth of summer comes
our feet grassed and green, we wish dandelion dreams
watch tiny parachutes glide into the sea
this place is wild resplendent music, played of notes unknown
we have become more than ourselves, and slowed
have stopped to feel our breath grow
making a path, cut from last year
we are slipped and sloped toward shore
silhouetted, just before the end of sun
when the world sinks silent
but for the deeply toned
hum of whale song.
Winter was his letter, wicked weather
with a head full of snow, a deafening cold
blinding, piercingly curt without a care
slighting me, cruel with words unfair
upon the telling page, icy clear
and I frozen in my dumbfounded stare
left cold, lost in winter weather.
It is nothing hard to find
to be the stillness inside
the slowing of time
sink into the tranquil divine
the drift and melt away
of mind
It is nothing you cannot know
the unwinding slow, the softening of soul
the water trickle, splash and sparkle
It is something worthwhile
to let the moment be
swallowed by the sea
to be the shore, to sit and wait
ever at the gate of the unknown
When finally quiet comes
the long pain of night’s trudge
the unmasked soul dredge
swift an arrow, piercing
when friends have all gone
in the silent dark before dawn
this is when you
miss me.
He bought and sold things, much like the man
who sold balloons in the park, fashioning them into strange animals
mostly fastened to wooden sticks, except for the helium headed ones
they remind me of you, floating high and lofty
out of reach, wanting escape from ties and pulling strings
drifting from the city moving countrywards
many are mesmerized by the migration
the fantastical triumph of levitation
they wait for days, years under trees
but not I, I am no longer drunk by
hot air and helium dreams
Kaleidoscope eyes
spirals amber brown
meld and move, turn and groove
exquisite mandala art, they impart
colored rings, how they bring
your soul to me
so close
Cold clench of angst, these sorrowful days await
what of love, its lessons gold or cruel
our flower laden bed, of stone now lies dead
clouds and clouds of my blues, no winging bird
or musical tune, slow the silent hours burn
languid days creep ever nightward
into black, starless, bleak
bruised and weak, my heart to mend
my mind grapples, reaches
for an end
Moss and moon-green Spring
fully bloomed, the dogwood trees
our breath mingles ever in the ethers
a place where sweet the soul will dwell
and shall not die nor wither
Crocus flowered violet grass
scented sweet pink hyacinth
yellow primrose metamorphosis
inhale we drink and can never think
only lose ourselves
deep in fragrant amnesia
Until beyond this meadow
when day recedes into night
and the scarlet sky of purple blues
is swallowed once more by
the molten, pearl moon
When you came from mountains
came washed from seas
you gave me words
told me everything
like two birds or flowers
blooming in the Spring
the green of everything
soft and mossy dream
it spoke of love
told me everything
when you came
gentle, sweet with rain
not and ordinary day, the way
you came and told me everything
Tonight’s game
Borne of blue water, fiery blue the hours with you
swimming, we rode atop waves
we, the bright raves of sea
float and foam, glistening
the spilling ashore, as never before
seeping inland, our waters ran
filling cracks and hollows
felt like heaven, felt like an ocean swallowed
the twist of turning upside down
the gasp of breath, the holding on
the place where lovers
drown
It is nothing hard to reach, looking outward
countless distractions, how they move me about
I play a game, circling moon-blue rings of sky
see a rivulet of stars quiver by
It is nothing easy, fretful, I tremble with night
dark unnerving path, I run and hide
amble, fumble my way to reach inside
It is something worthwhile at times to swallow a river
dredge miles of soul, to crumble stony towers
reconstruct this apprenticeship
to slip once more
back into softness
In the night air, of ghostly moon
starry the darkened blues, quiver
some falling from the sky to startle
under murmuring trees, we rest
and never sleep, we seek to know
what night will conjure
strange drunken allure
of the celestial
Planetary fools
entranced by moons
magnetically pulled
ebbed and fallen
just another day, we lay
soon swallowed by
the sun
Strange path, with green overgrown
a place unknown, a wild bird haunting calls
as if to wake, coax the light of dawn
wet my steps, break with day
I wait the sun, to come
lighting slow, a lonesome home
or far off hills of grassy yellow
I hear the smaller birds too
beyond these trees, among the reeds
sing glorious amid morning’s meadow
and I, entranced deep in nature’s glow
can only hope to follow.
Sharp shard with blood, it cuts
your armored heart of crystalline
no one knows you, nor gets in
barbwire wrapped and shut
black, the deep – you’ve fallen
your desultory descent ever sullen
gasp of strife that smokes
and chokes apart your life
makes a slave of you, alone
calls for your blood
and bones
A flash of hours flew
and strayed away the moon blue
sparkle and glitter of skies
all starlit strewn, our interlude
the fire of you
the meld and melt
how it felt
to be seen in this dream
within a dream
to be found
the night we fell
unbound
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
Red the field flowers, a thousand petals – rain
oak tree meadow’s verdant sway
and too the path I travel
along the lonely hours gained
winding this sacred sojourn
how brief the days stray
light of life that wanes
too quick the verdant sun
green in hills to lay
and I a vagrant
plod such beauty
dumbly
all my
days.
Blood moon, red night of wine
words like song, danced sweetly soft my mind
hours drank us late and soon to bed
music bloomed us starry eyed
though tis only a flower, born to die
how strange, this fleeting sky.
He is from fields, endless prairies
runs with buffalo on the Oklahoma plains
nature runs all through him, restless
as rivers, always a river, he is winding
weaving, fording the depths of soul, masterful
days exploring countless outer lands
his hands must be worn winter leather, warm
in Spring he gathers flowers for his lady’s home
sees her essence in sky blue clouds
wanders the salt creek way, home
or sometimes lost to the wild hills
he may lay all the day, watching shadows of the sun
wane and melt their way back into moon
he seeks, watching storms in gradient greys
windy skies sway, with darkest rain
he is soaking in, all he can hold
all of nature transforms his soul
his words are woven, spun gold
ever sublime, are his poems
to behold
Our eyes met
softly, fluttered danced
and perhaps again
shall never meet
still, twas love
miraculous
beautiful
thing
Our days
like pearls come
ever from darkness, sprung
we’ve come in human form
twas always
always love
I don’t know why I wallow
curved, I meld into the hollows
sunk and swallowed
a pale yellow sun, I follow
whittled, slim cored
dark from sullen caves explored
here where I await the glowing moon
a relic jewel, to light the path
for me, a sad and silly fool
Driving east, I leave the sun,
still behind mountains, to burn
east, vastly deep, cold cool desert
early before mirages sweep in waves
oceans of stones, smoothed round
flooding, tumbling cactus down
early, under dawn’s flowing gown
billowing, red sky of fire
on back roads, Apache trails
seeking souls, lost within the Dragoons
rest, I sleep amid ancient bones
celebrate, dance with ancestral ghosts
free, our spirits roam
the Cochise stronghold
By these woods I’ve come, wildly green
mossy step of days, long the forest rain
refresh my breath, breathe deep of trees
hovering grey ghostly steam
the smoking warmth of sun that comes
to sing with birds, perched upon
soft sword and leather fern
laced with berries wild
and faeries good
sing green of home
they wildly roam, safe amid
the bracken woods
At last the end of rain, the pouring all of day
I watched desert birds, thirsty – perched, bathe
sunset, a stretched string of blue, unraveling
a flash of light fading into black
splash of gutters overflowing
water drops, the rooftop
drips upon piled rocks
just outside the door
my glad goodbye
a drenching day
sulked away
void of sun
the teary sky
cried
vast silent sky
dusk of life, stillness in the fall of night
the soul unseen, hides
at times is felt, like tremors of moon
shines much like stars, blinking us awake
startles, illuminates, if only a moment
to glow, to radiate, then swiftly fades away
back into night
Green tangle, narrow spiny fingered
your prickling sharpens, midday’s heat
bearing scarlet flowers
this bird feeder
a drink
When I can no longer dredge, move water
dragging silt through sand, disappearing
my hands tied by seaweed, clawed and crabbed
strange ocean of paraphernalia, I trudge the land
my lips, red crusts and salty bled
fingers stiff, rusty locks, rubber gloved
swallowed up, fastening round a net, a trap
to pull the ocean in
Never wait for me when far in fields, I’ve gone
mad and wild flowered, abandoned every plan
my mind ebbed and fallen, no never do call on me
if when I’m very drunk in halcyon hills of day,
or in lucid colors of a pastiche floral parade
never when lost in splendorous meadows
when a bird of peace, in hills I fly
amid some heavenly place
where I can only but
dream to die
When love goes slow or runs
clear like water, heavenly in rivers to float
or flies a dove of splendorous iridescence
in streams of dreams, imagining love
a gorgeous winged, metamorphosis
Strange glowing orb
mystical magnetic oracle
points us aimlessly
in and out of love
pushes and pulls
the tide, spellbound
sea wrecked, sandbarred
left high and dry
deep in the night
foolish we, two
fools of moon
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
Red clay of mountains, wind washed
cerise swept sands of desert, pebbles sparkling blind
scurry, we hide from afternoon suns
people scarcely found, hide inside
still some crave midday heat, sun to penetrate the bones
drip in sweat, taste of sweet salt lips, colored hot, pink, red
the melt of minds, green like candles, saguaro spired
move, they sway in waves, a vision dancing over lands
evening clouds come flowered, bloom and drench sands
come rainbow showered, and after, always with birds
so brief to drink, to bathe and splash
ever amid the vanishing puddles
The day you passed, a flash, starless, black
dispirited day, pages frayed, you left
early, the departing hour you kept
brief sojourner, now of pebbled ashes thrown
the grass with flowers strewn
sad bloodshot sky, rained teary eyed
slow sullen walk, of friendly frowns
mad vigil of holding on, we plumbed with gloom
and death and life was all around
while lipstick colored, garden flowers
fragrantly loomed, your memory
ever wildly abloom
Camping just outside of town, two miles from work
a cannery job, twenty three years old
did it mostly for the adventure
okay, I needed the money too
a bus would go out fish camp road
every few hours
once in awhile I’d take a cab,
too tired to walk
if I missed the bus
my tent was pitched
not far from the water
a scenic spot
it was a hot day
by Alaska standards
getting toward evening
I was alone reading
curled up in my tent
just glad to have some free time
away from slinging salmon
suddenly I heard footsteps approaching
ahh, it was the cabbie who had given me a lift
a few times out to the campsite
only this time he came
with a knife,
an unfathomable meter
How fire builds, born of warm remembrance
far or deep in heart it burns, sparks
a flash, how lightening strikes fly
achingly, beautiful pieces of sky
tiny embers burrow
swept inside the soul
a call, remembered
will burn, burn
indelible
Winter’s unsteady weather
cold, cold, hot desert
on this walkabout with severe angles of sun
icy mornings drip into the sweat of day
the impasse of giant stones, the gods have laid
to stop or climb another way
egos travel irretrievable, sink into what is real
here we scale thorny towers of denial
revealed, peeled in layers – to cry, to smile
meanwhile, awakened, shaken
from the sleep of our amnesia
Eyes, lashes flash
patterned lace, snowflakes
melt soft across my lips
exquisite blooms of winter
coldest icy snow shall not freeze
nor will night ever slow or blacken
in the howling, we watch grey skies sway
laugh at wicked, whipping rains
hear only the call
of our names
When I wake in winter, to howling winds
a head of dreams still swirling, spins
my body aches forlorn, bury myself warm
sometimes half asleep, upon the pillow
fall back, softly deep
witness myself surreal
float, I walk or run through
strangest worlds, hurled through
time, I climb upside down
back out, from dreams – awake
eerily shiver, winter’s cold
to shake
Ecola park
misty rain of
late September
overlooking blue seas
a gathering of birds and flowers
wild ocean of
you and I
together
Today, far and away
beyond, we’ve gone
from one another
still there are days
listening for your name
strange how my garden blooms
lonely, bright colors of you
strange, watching petals fall
fading into winter
Under these pines, these bougainvilleas
petals blow across the wind
red sails on gravel sands
clouds blue laced black
pitch of hurried birds fly
disappear in darkest skies
a sudden storm at the window pounds
slant of raindrops crash
splash of puddles, the iridescent ground
sun bursts through a field of clouds
the desert pure redolence, calm
a silent rainbow touching down
Your eyes are polished amber stones
gold flecked, honey brown
a warm spring of waterfalls
our love, a whispering river call
we, a silhouette of wild birds
winging amid a
softened world
High in hills, drift the clouds – of sun it kills
wind barren path strung low with lichen laid
starry flowers, pale white, soft a blanket made
amidst dawn’s dewy moss, footprints pressed
leading up and outward toward the day
the sky, through all of time, only a spiral
how earth makes it’s way
Still lingering, clouds meandering
layered upon this lazy blue day
birds fly in and out of view
surrounded by mountains
as if a painting, surreal
the desert drinks us dry
leaves us far behind
there is no separate mind
we sit for days and nights amidst the sands
breathe in sync with this sacred land
chasing butterflies from our heads
losing all the words ever said
day is nearly done, the time has come
soon to sleep and dream
never of this place
again
I will see you in the field of days
in the blue or grey of thundering storms
though wild rivers change course
and I lose ground, you steadfast remain
you are the rousing dawn of birdsong
the silver sun of white light flashing
you are the wind, a whisper, a kiss
upon my face, that lifts my sullen eyes
all the tears, your infinite ocean washes away
and I am left upon the shore, where only love remains
It was Spring, late May
and I so late, for class
poetry lessons of Mr. Davis
the hours, soon and fast
how warmth would come
a fleeting sort of sun
language poured rain
cried words
never again
the same
Stillness bathes my room, the stars have gone
slow sweeps the light of dawn
watery windows breathe of cold
spider mandala art has gone
now sleeps the garden green
of gorgeous lily bowers
silence has come
the quiet of flowers
falling down