Poetry 

This One is Mine

My world sits in a teacup on the top of a windswept mountain. 

My world waits in ripples and whispers on a cooling breeze. 

My world slows to a stone’s crawl but the trail of its yearly travel staggers me. 

My world is around me pressing, invading… clasping and imprisoning and with less than a moment’s notice it morphs like a swinging door or a porch swing cutting the air with joyous howls or whispered giggles in tribute to midnight skies and summer rains.

My world frightens me. And it bores me. It leaves me shaking and unsure. It soothes me into a sense of complacency, a honey-ed trap, a promised sweet. 

My world is time and feelings. It is action and reason. It is imagination and science, a tidal wave of brain goop and the neurons firing and the missing two pounds and that spark at the drifting core. 

And even though from time to time my world bumps into the shared world of us all or into the solitary one of another’s, this one…this one is mine. It is mine with all the bumps and explosions and scented flowers and song. It is mine, beyond measure or rhyme or wonder. It is mine … finite, and in a way…perhaps…without end.   

(9/8/16)

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Where are you going and where have you been?
Can you hear the soft wisdom over the din?
Can you see strange and lovely? 
Can you see monstrous fair? 
Can you be still and breathe…
The untainted air.

(4/28/2016)

——–

Across the battleplain and off to morning
Can I survive after dawn paints its rosy face?
No soap bubble film to sheathe my soul
I must carole the lion’s song
and brave the unknown.

————————

UNTOLD

Here it comes the wind and sun
Yesterdaying life and love
I passed along the hidden dell
And waited for the tale to tell.

Tell the tale and shout with glee
Painful, joyful memories.
For lost like crumpled leaves is worse
Unsung, unheard, untold, unversed.

————

AND THE WALL COMES DOWN

Peace at last – I’ve come to say
    Joy dwells in my heart today
Life pours through me everlasting
Options are rich. There is no fasting.

 
What silly norms can I defy?
    Which avator behind my eyes
Will greet the one before my mirror
And if I listen – will I hear her?
 

So many me’s am I this phase
    From silent somber to outright craze
My art has caught me…emblazed in fire
what muse will laugh at my desires?

 
I write, I draw, I sing, I dance
    I live the moment pure by chance
My cup runs full and strong my limbs
for hope burns bright. It has not dimmed
——————

Dream journal

Dreaming, I stepped into a cold land where a friend of mine complained I never talked to him anymore. His bare feet were white w/frostbite. I asked him to follow me home, get warmed up. He was reluctant. I insisted & eventually he complied. When he got there, he went into a room I didn’t have, crawled into a bed beside an old woman I didn’t know & disappeared. It wasn’t until I woke that I remembered he was dead. – 6/9/2010

———–

A Fey Masquerade 

In between day and night
The woods and meadow
The water and sky
Revel the merry folk
The merry folk and I

 
For I’ve seen the luna moth’s
Costume fall to the ground
In wild twists of fairy limbs
In silent celebration
Twilight revels and dewdrop orbs

 
Time runs backwards
Or Skips a beat
It leaves a peeping Mary’s mind.
Slack and wondering.
Glistening and awed.

For who can say a wandering trail
Leads back to known and wordly
When the revel dances have waned
And mortal sun looms back in sky
And water rushes forth.

——–

Memory 

Upon windy days we sail our hearts
     across the seas of time.
To reminisce the hope, to dream
     with reason or with rhyme

 

To feel the tears of shattered hurt
     The magic before despair
The uplift whims of elvish wiles
     and ‘nary not a care.

 

Of youthful days so bold and silly –
     laughter reigns supreme
and then the weight upon the shoulders;
     nothing’s what it seems.

 
The breeze dies down and life comes back
     Reality once more
Until the day within our minds
     We open up the door.