Moonless Nights

A moonless night blankets the earth,
wrapping crystalized huffs in darkness
and punctuating the "poosh" which escapes my lips.
Cover me in silent felicitations from the stars
shining unimpeded;
a thousand glittering greetings -
my own softly still symphony.
Intimate, private, and utterly dark
describe my affair with the vacuous sky.
We are friends and lovers waiting for our clandestine meeting
kissed away by dawn.

Ruminating

I watched the sky on fire tonight,
an orange-ish swirl in rosy light.
Burning tendrils caressed my eyes,
painting dusky graying skies.
Yet as I wandered in my head,
the sun had all its colors bled,
and stole the coral tinted strands
that brushed across celestial lands.
A second here, and a moment lost -
Ruminating bears a lofty cost.

You Are The Sun

You are the sun, bathing me in golden warmth
each time you walk into a room,
from a light that shines deeply within your heart;
you are the stars and moon.
You are everything good that decorates the sky,
a vast expanse of glistening light
that tethers my soul to yours with tendrils of fire,
warming me all through the night.

Walk A Mile

Behold - a deep chasm of difference and hate!
We all throw our shoes across,
but no one tries them on.

We can fill the hole with used footwear,
but sharing the work of bridge building seems easier.

Besides, I like these shoes -
it took a while to break them in.

Covenant

Is it selfish to be tired of this coaster ride?
To want to leave the thrills and chills behind?
I boarded thinking it would be bitterly short,
but permeating this longevity, a desire to abort.

Love is infinite, but tolerance has its bounds,
we're approaching my limit of sacrifice to expound.
Please know that I love you with all my heart,
and I'll make myself endure until you fall apart.

Jar

I want to put this in a bottle
and clutch it to my heart.
Something in this deep blue sky
with wispy clouds painted like art.

Is this feeling in the brisk, clean air
tangible and quantifiably mine?
Will I know it when this same breeze blows
and the sun presses gently sublime?

Give me a jar so I can capture
all the rapture drenching bliss;
infinite joy bundled in a package
to call upon moments like this.

Facade

I wear a cloak of calming stillness,
betrayed by my eyes this night.
They grow wilder each passing second,
reflecting a torrid inner light.

This facade abides with the sun
a crutch to hobble through the day,
but in the moist air of the evening,
security is wrenched sharply away.

Yellow lights spill on this pond and path,
and soft waters gurgle in tune;
let the world gaze at my false smiles
and fall for my sweet-wrapped gloom.

Stress

I grow weary of this heavy mantle that
suppresses, stifles, and siphons.
It's endless but familiar.

Stress bolsters my spine.
Oil thick heat saturates the air;
relief or relaxation blend here like water.

Marigolds

I lit a lamp by the river today,
and placed it safely in a boat.
I piled it high with yellow marigolds,
and pushed it gently out to float.

I watched its glow quietly slipping in
leisurely waves lapping the shore.
It dipped, twisted and bobbed in rhythm,
carrying you away forevermore.

Pact

I've searched for love beyond and back
and now it's passion which I lack.
This withered reality and fact;
my smiles are just an act
to mask an unrequited pact.

Ambrosia

We sway as tranquility divine,
breathing soft whispers against lips,
sampling delights as heaven on earth transcends
through a thousand bursts in my skin.
Lightening to my toes,
and your elixir on my tongue;
this blissful ambrosia,
our rapturous repletion.

Our Bench

Here in this place so sacred to us,
the wind rustles through the leaves.
You carry my heart and soul and self,
rooted as firmly as these trees.

You guide my life and choices now;
in these I'll never be alone.
We started here so long before,
always together we have grown.

You taught me unconditional love,
and more than a muse or friend,
you've taught me to yearn for an eternity
joined with you until the end.

When I speak to you of passion now,
please know that mine burns clearly bright.
You are untarnished perfection to me,
my very own beautiful beacon of life.

True Love

My beautiful poison, and bittersweet potion
you satisfy my need to want even more.
It's magnetic, electric, and tragic combined,
I want you, despise you, I love you; I'm torn.
Chilled by a fire burning deep down inside,
fueled by your presence, quenched by your hate.
Anticipating dread lamenting your touch,
torturous contradiction, my passion - my fate.

Crush Transformed

My mind got stuck in a loop,
as I thought about you on my stoop,
all those years ago.
Your hardcore grungy music scene,
your chains and skates and stove-pipe jeans,
you had pants that glow.
You smelled like heaven wrapped around,
with longish hair and baritone sound,
my kissable teenage swoon.
And now all grown, tall and slender,
with practiced kisses deep and tender,
my gorgeous sexy groom.

Wants and Needs

I drink you in and I feel full,
we scratch, and stretch, and strain and pull.
I never knew how parched my heart,
could be when we are forced apart.
You're my salvation, my strongest crave,
I want you, I will not behave.
In me, on me, all around,
sublime, divine, complete, profound.

Tomatoes

Sweet red acid curling around my tongue,
the taste of summer
and the scent of the Hill.
A children's nightmare and liquid relief
after a long night.
Verbal dispute; biological conniption,
autumn bids a bittersweet goodbye
to your brief season.

Celestial Theft

If every star in the night,
shined as glorious, shined as bright,
as the one I gaze at with my eyes,
'twould fill too full the midnight skies.

Oh that I could hold in my hand,
that star so golden, star so grand,
to see its beauty and feel it close;
it sheds light on life so morose.

Would that it be so very fair?
And should I venture, should I dare
to pluck such beauty from its home,
deprive the world, call it my own?

Have I such gall to up and snatch?
Beauty so real, beauty unmatched?
Or shall I share this shining star,
with people here and lands afar...

By latter's will I'll sit at night,
wishing to abscond with light.
It is not mine, but still I'll share,
its radiant beauty, stark and rare.

Arresting Edge

Fingers trickle across my skin,
light and slight and tight within.
It builds and fills and tinges trills,
a testament to sensical skills.
Anti-climax and full halt,
No repletion this assault.

Cute Ears

Velvet comfort wrapped around
a heart the size of the world.
Snoring softly, breathing gently,
tucked under and curled
against my side, under my arm,
and trusting my embrace.
Adoring eyes gaze back at me,
cold nose, long tongue - puppy face.

Radiance

The sky shimmers tonight.
Tonight
stars shine so clearly bright.
Bright
comes the sun at dawn.
Dawn
plays its radiant song.

Drought

Sweltering, torrid,
parched, stale,
wretched, agony.
Open pores, salty,
gritty -
I lament the rain.

Nocturnal Iniquity

I feel a beat to our fun through my toes,
and not just from the floor.
This elixir dulls and enhances all at once;
it's hot, cold, easy and sweet.
Sometimes it burns in a sickeningly slow descent to my stomach.

You asked me to dance,
but this rhythm smells like old sweat
and mauls my hips.
I'll play until the sun bakes my dry eyes.

Black and Mild

Warm needles whisper down my throat,
dancing with nuances of black cherry and vanilla.
My guilty pleasure carries the scent of death and clears the room -
conditionally outlawed,
consistently ostracized,
and for a woman considerably odd.

Fresh Baked Earth

Searing black thatch on chairs or sizzling concrete,
standing has its merits.
Butter thick air crawls around me,
a steaming mantle which prevails,
clinging and clogging the lungs in deafening silence.
This warmth oppresses the savage beast;
it humbles the hum of life.
(heavily quiet power)
A green breeze carries the musky scent of freshly baked earth.
Today, nature burns.

Clouds

I dreamt you were a cloud that took my heart across the sky,
Pillowed in your safe embrace, you made my spirit fly.
I drank your love, it filled me full of goodness, grace and light,
forevermore our souls entwined, with fate to fuel our flight.

Unrequited

I often wish for things I shouldn't,
and people that I can't meet.
Kindred spirits I can never touch,
and impossible kisses honey-sweet.

Sunday Morning

Here it comes, that moment when the world bursts forth
for it has touched the sun.
Dull, grey and lifeless once before,
a new day has begun.
The birds and dew and moistened earth
assault ears, skin and nose.
A waiting world poised and ready for
golden warmth these rays bestow. 

Transit

A brisk wind brushes past the platform of the metro,
and all the busy bustlers move in gangling groups,
on and off,
and off and on.
Up and down the stairs, down and up from the benches,
it's not like breathing with a regular pulse,
or music with a predictable beat.
But I am still deaf to the world which waits
on the other side of my ear-buds.

Pleading

You aren't soft anymore.
You're all hard, jagged edges;
our arguments run round in circles,
walls, and icy wedges.

I need a soft place to land,
somewhere real and safe,
engulfing, surrounding, holding,
but all you do is hate.
I need an oasis,
and someone who will relate.

Senses

When I love you it's fresh,
like a blush which sweeps
over my whole body
with light sweat on my chest.
The feeling remains
long after the sheen-
the blush,
and then you touch me.
At that one point on my body
all of my nerves converge
to form a single place
of glorious madness.

Ode to Toothpaste

Oh toothpaste, oh toothpaste the paste not the gel,
you make our teeth white and you do it so well.
Every morning when I reach for my toothbrush so fair,
I find you ready and waiting in the fresh bathroom air.
I pick you up lovingly, and away with the cap!
The toothpaste is low, I run my hand up the shaft.
Your sweet minty nectar slides to the top,
I spread it on the brush, I don't miss a drop.
Just a small trickle of water, gentle so as not to upset,
I run you under the faucet for you work better when wet.
You are ready for me now, I slowly raise the brush.
My lips part expectantly, apprehension, and I fear it's too much...
But no, my mistake! And I take you all in,
your sweet mint delicious dribbles down my chin.
I swish you around, my God you fight plaque!
A tingling sensation, a breath freshening attack!
Oh toothpaste I love how you make me so clean,
my tongue cries with pleasure, "Cleanse me!" I scream.
How I like it in circles, or moving in and out,
the more foam you make the more my taste buds shout.
I can feel the foaming, the mint is coming in waves,
"Dominate me toothpaste! Give me that sweet clean that I crave!!!"
Then, it's all over.  The bubbles slow, to a simmer.
I put the cap on my toothpaste, and go into dinner.

Good Morning

Give me velvet ribbons
wrapped in a grey sky
with supple highlights
and gentle shadows
dipping and twisting in a creamy dawn.
Taste the morning dewdrops,
sliding down flower pedals
and through blades of grass.
Inhale the slightest hint
of early honeysuckle,
as the wind brushes past you
and the scent flutters away.
Feel the rhythm,
dance to the dying music of the night,
embrace the joyous climax of birds and rays alike
bursting forth,
and watch your heart explode
first in blue, and then purple.
Pink, and red.
Orange
and yellow and blue
painted across the sky.

Four Lines

Sweep me up in your dreams
far away to depths I've never been.
When I awake from my daze
I wish myself in your eternal gaze.

Lamenting Summer

I never noticed until today
that summer has now gone away;
gone the birds, gone the bees -
honeysuckle and green leaves.
Somewhere in a month or week
went the sunshine, went the heat.
I'm not sure why I didn't note
the shorter days and nights of cold.
Where are the children laughing loud?
The scent of flowers, bright and proud?
Swimming pools or a sprinkler hose,
shorts, skirts, and bare-naked toes.
Sunblock, suntans, beach towels too,
I miss summertime trips to the zoo.
Six Flags, ice cream trucks, bubblegum;
all fading fast with the waning sun.
And though fall explodes with a shout -
it is summer I hate to do without!
Keep your wind, snow and freeze,
autumn colors and springs of green,
give me blazing summer heat,
and sultry memories, bittersweet.

Autumn

The changing leaves bring Halloween,
goblins, ghouls, and things unseen.
Autumn winds and whipping chill
whitely dust the window sill.
Moonlight lasts a little longer
and our minds begin to wander.
Wanton lovers shy from the cold,
and bare new life in summer's gold.
Families share a last repast
before winter's first, icy blast.

Marker Board, 2006

For me this a year of change
progress, heartache, love estranged.
Victory for our home team;
innovative Halloween.
The seasons switch with my heart,
comfort versus shaky start.
Switch and blow the winds of chance,
rolling dice, precarious dance.

Seasonal Inspiration

Today the wind whipped the trees,
startling, stripping, stealing the leaves.
They lay naked in the greyish sky,
fueling the wind's whiny cry.
Freezing rain, ice, hail, and sleet,
these are winter's welcome greet.
Frosted skin and bones so cold,
sniffling young, and sickly old.
But near the fire, warm and tender,
gather amongst the glowing embers;
singing songs with voices high,
friends, and glasses that never dry.

It could be either one

At night I lay in my bed
but my body is on fire,
you consume my every thought,
engulf me with desire.
I know your voice, deep and soft
I feel it low and strong.
It whispers at me in the night,
it calls me out at dawn.
I love your hands and your long arms;
strong, safe, and gently rough.
Arms which barricade the world,
hands with expert touch.
I need the way that you love me.
all heart, body and soul.
At my side the man I love,
proud to make me whole.

Jazz in June

Laying underneath the canopy of summer trees
feeling the grass tickling the backs of my knees,
I could imagine that you are there with me,
floating with a blanket and pillow in the green sea
while music drifts on the warm breeze.
Accompanied by the cicada in the surrounding bliss,
keeping the world away from our abyss,
I could drink chianti in deliberate sips
and you might brush my moistened lips
with the barest whisper of a kiss.

Writing

When I put words together they are rarely about a specific person,
or to an individual;
inspired by no one,
and never in spite of anyone.
When I write about humanity I want to divulge glorious autonomy
and even universal fallibility.
I like things, and places
and ideas which are constantly changing
and which never change.
My favorite ones spontaneously change.
I like finding the words which almost anyone can relate to.

An Unrequited Thought

I thought of you today while I was standing still,
and the wind moved across my neck and I got a little chill.
The air was crisp and the sky was clearly blue and bright.
The snow danced in the blissful breeze adorned with glittering light.
I thought of you today and I thought that time had froze,
as goosebumps pricked along my nape and butterflies curled my toes.
It is my selfish moment alone when I sit and think of you,
to leave it free of all my doubts that you think of me too.

Locked Up

Close my eyes, rest my mind
seeking answers from inside.
Down and down tranquil paths,
so serene they won't last.
Stormy skies rise ahead,
fuming fire hot and red.
Strong and clear passion burns.
for that which I most yearn.
Center nears, cage in sight
from within shines a light.
It hangs up high out of reach,
it contains what I seek.
It guides me in what I do,
and will show right and true.
Break the cage, tear it down
it is strong, but not sound.
Strength derived from my fears,
no more doubt, no more tears.
Live my life, I am free.
Open mind, master key.

Perpetual Composition

Christopher Hall can curl my toes with his voice.
I heard it once, live -
speakers resounding, reaching inside of me.
Sound waves vibrate everywhere.

I wonder, as the television blares through my walls,
what music those muffled voices are composing.
Is it melodic like locusts,
or dissonant like dawn at the zoo?
A man once told me, "Music is organized sound."

The rapid rhythm birds create
blend in perfect harmony
with the basses of thunderous waterfulls
and treble, leisurely streams.
Everything longs to be percussion,
and the listener is delighted by a fierce competition
between
raindrops drippling,
wind whispering
leaves leaving
and crickets chirping.
The sun and moon must be proud of the orchestra they create.

By listening closely, I can hear the music of houses and homes.
Coffee percolating a morning tune,
the click-clacking of a ceiling fan whose screws are loose,
soft, low buzzing from a dishwasher,
clocks tick-tocking,
and a spoon tapping on a cereal bowl.

The music of life can serve as a warning;
the popping and burning of a heart attack -
or an unhealthy breakfast.
The low sizzling of lung cancer -
or a freshly lit cigarette.
The deep purr of a car accident -
or an engine revving.

I miss the music of my old neighborhood.
Neighbors fighting on a corner in the wee hours,
chain link fences clunking and clanking in the wind.
Distant sounds of drive-bys,
or was it a car backfiring?
I love the constant noise of traffic.
It means we are not alone.

There is music in the sounds of silence.
The bittersweet noise of tears falling,
the soft sound of fog as it descends,
snow blanketing the earth in gentle waves,
or the songs in the hearts of the deaf -
perhaps these are the most musical of all.

Food of the Gods

Amber rays of sun
beaming from the sky,
bathe golden horses
poised on amber wings.

They blaze through fields
decorated with
bunched up bundles
of amber haystacks,

and they finally stop
where crags and canyons
paint the land,
beyond the amber hills of dust.

The sun sets,
amber pillars pierce the clouds
to reach beyond the sandy sea.

In the distance,
the faint pale glow
of the amber cities
obscures the night sky.

A streetlight shines it's amber light
while a cat, discovered,
slips away

and returns to the old woman,
cascaded by amber firelight
on the floor.

She strokes the cat with amber fingers -
stained by cigarettes,
and closes her eyes as her heart slows
and amber dreams descend.

Farewell

Cross this bridge as you go,
the road is long, the way is slow.
Do not forget my dearest friend,
I will be waiting at the end.

Ease I cannot guarantee,
the way is blind so learn to see.
Hardships litter the winding path,
the skies are dark and full of wrath.

Your heart will be your only guide,
I am no longer by your side.
Dismay, torture, deepest sorrow,
consume yesterday and tomorrow.

When the sun shines look ahead,
let it lighten your heavy tread.
Don't lose faith, don't give in,
and use your confidence within.

The hills are steep, the journey tough;
the path is difficult and rough.
You might stumble, you might fall,
rise again; give it your all.

Begin this quest, go with love,
I will be watching from above.

Cross this bridge as you go,
the road is long, the way is slow.
Do not forget my dearest friend,
I will be waiting at the end.

Your Arms

Your arms are a drug.
The soft bliss I never knew the world lacked
until I sank into their depths.
I felt you through my chest, breathing and beating.
I was a captive who languished in your strength.
Your arms are a fortress, and a sweet elixir.
A sample is not enough;
it tantalizes and teases with the promise of more,
and creates an aching need.
My tongue goes dry,
my body trembles,
and it seems I am hopelessly addicted.

An Observation

The wind is cool and blowing,
the trees are tall and knowing.
The world sleeps,
dreams keep;
in the silence I hear life growing.