The morning air is moist and expectant and smells like frothy white waves pushing sand between bare toes. when I close my eyes I feel the briny breeze, the familiar cries of gulls floating between here and there. Continue reading Morning Meditation 5.7.14 – The Gulf
Ferns glow in the morning sun like constellations in the night sky. Rustling palm fronds reveal O.J. the cat peering down from his tropical perch, on the hunt for careless birds seeking breakfast. Continue reading Morning Meditation 5.5.14 – Constellations
Freedom is terror, Head thrown back, eyes to the stars, Sing, scream, dance of passions more vulgar devoured in glorious release Continue reading In the Dead of Night
Name me any color you like: Chartreuse Vermillion Cattleya Lay me in a bed of rare papyrus among prismatic swirls of paisley nesting sweetly into each other and fill me in. When finally your epicene brush lifts from the page, we’ll cry like fools, licking our tears of hue and tint from our rapturous faces. ________________________________ For inspiration I took the first four song titles from one of my playlists and incorporated them into a poem. The titles were: Fix You by Coldplay Any Color You Like by Pink Floyd Fool To Cry by The Rolling Stones Fill Me In … Continue reading Chroma
Desire flows, a natural watercourse moving towards an ocean, a lake, a sea of felicity. Its channels erode wider rather than deeper, becoming more expansive with time, flowing more freely more languidly more mindfully. Aqueous immersion. ___________________ Written from prompt for day 12, NaPoWriMo.net I replaced the word “river” with “desire”, although there isn’t much left of googled sentences contaning the word “river” in this. Continue reading Estuary
Ancient black arms and newborn green fingers stretch upward to infinite azure Thousands of shimmering cymbals clamor in the breeze Raise your eyes Absorb the vitality Continue reading April Oaks
Once again, left where you don’t belong Scrunched up into a wrinkly wannabe cloud filled with snot and skin flakes or smears of mayo and spit, glaring forlornly at me glaring pissed offedly at you. When left to marinate in phlegm and fluids on bedside tables and kitchen countertops you start to multiply like earthworms that procreate by having sex with themselves. Hell, you already have the lube so why not use it? Continue reading Mucus Rags
Jinx a boiling heart Hide the skeleton key for the lock is cracked and wrinkled Second chances eye the keyhole but the lost lover is a drunken navigator Your strange face flushed Your ambiguous mouth buries its head Continue reading No 2nd Chances
Piddling around the kitchen on a rainy Spring morning, washing the French press, feeding the dogs (Sam barking his megaphone bark and Peggy Sue prancing) and lightly swaying to horns and drums on the radio, thinking of birthday cakes (store-bought or home-made?) and loitering on a park bench with a view of Isidore’s sculpture and rumbling streetcars (a favorite spot) among cake crumbs and milk In May, an impending anniversary (smiles) plans of lunch at Commander’s and a melon martini (or two) then, a leisurely waddle down Pyrtania among the oaks and lacy ladies standing proud on their lawns of … Continue reading Kitchen Thoughts
Purple shadows drop in my hand The river falls at sundown Ships’ horns fly on currents of muted air, over would-be lovers stalled by red lights, yearning for saturation The river carries its cargo, unresisting waves ripple through weed-choked sand The day fades to darkness a delirious outcome wings into dreams Continue reading Currents
