spoon on pot
a hot sound
on a cold morning
the light like a
spike
still bright from
the nite

dreams ground running
down like a worn brake
screaming on the
drums

no good goodbyes
just so long and be well
wiping off the feeling
of your touch like a bad
spell

but down in the realm
of there and beware
the calamity
the mirror is empty
devoid of insanity

so the hush of the
power that tensions
tall tower

ReeeeeeeeeeeeLLLL A X

Indispensable me

One day someone asked
did you miss me??

What? we did not even know
your were absent

the world perhaps
had a relaxation
Oh what a breather
it must have been

Relaxation.....
makes you feel fresh
it gives you many names
and
monotony goes to candle flames....

no the world won't collapse
without you!!!
I assure you
it has moved along
without me too
see I come so often
forgotten me have you?....

But God’s name’s not Jane.
And mine’s not Anne.
And life’s not an Austen novel.

My mother’s insistence would never wane
Until I abandoned the beloved young man.
But God’s name’s not Jane.

Seven months or seven years would never drain
My sea of feelings for the Captain.
And life’s not an Austen novel.

The business of my house brought you to my domain
And I set to win you back again.
But God’s name’s not Jane.

Leaves, leaves on maple trees,
They whisper softly and sing,
In boughs above gilded eaves,

Petals, petals on fragile flowers,
They sway in quiet hours,
Above lady bugs like dancing towers,

Seeds, seeds in the earth,
They travel deep to give birth,
And flourish above the fresh dirt,

Wind, wind amongst sunshine,
Blows through mountains to speak rhymes,
And tells stories of nature’s time,

The peat smells sweet,
Where traveling feet meet,
Kissing the ground the way lover’s greet,

wound about me
u feed me chocolate treats
the glow of all your worlds
and accounts
the clatter of nails on texts
the written trails
the window open
the ocean of nite washing
in while your feet rest
on my thighs
your smile and that look
from your tilted chin

you like fifty cent
I like soviet soviet

you like lash brushes
and I love shovels
and brooms

we were never the
worlds of bride
and groom

My prayers that I send to you
are the wings of love and hope.
May they help you find your way home
when you feel so cold, lost and alone

May the faith I have in your courage,
be a gift of unyielding strength.
The shield that will not break into two
when pain and despair threatens you.

Last but not least, I am giving you
the promise of a lasting friendship.
May it be the will to summon a miracle
when you face what seem to be
the inevitable.

the want of to be "the-One"
and the ovid...the barren
the free

It's a Thursday
and no one's out
watching the sun
melt into the horizon

Behind a cloud
like a mountain
the sun becomes
an eye

The rays spread out
with laquered lashes
before a final
wink

The last gift
a silver silhouette
before it sinks

Lashes blackening
and clouds turning
to ash

Only birds witness
now
Cawing and calling
its slow demise

The clouds
an ancient city
of towers

The horizon's
left bereft