Your bottomless heart has enough space to make willingness your constant companion, to feel fear without shutting down, to show tenderness in time of trouble. Don’t let life shrink it. —————- Image by Lilian Auduong on Google+ Continue reading Morning Meditation 11/17/14
I want us to sit on the sofa with popcorn salt on our lips watching a foreign film with subtitles, arms and legs all a-tangle, hands rubbing thighs, contentment on our faces – you know, like those commercials on TV where all the couples are perfectly in sync gazing with adoration into each others eyes. But I don’t like popcorn and you can’t sit still and all those TV couples are only figments in the minds of pampered old white men looking down from their castles in the sky. Continue reading Selective Mirage
Come out upon my seas Cursed missed opportunities Am I a part of the cure? Or am I part of the disease? — “Clocks” by Coldplay Defenseless Anatomy And I’m there in the shadows of the sun, the humid air curling the hair on the nape of my neck, your hands curled around my waist as the wind ruffles the wild grass around our ankles. Us, caught in moments that passed so quickly never to be played the same way again. Was it part of the cure? The long weeks that ripped the skin of our intimacy? Maybe the disease … Continue reading Defenseless Anatomy
Your breath mingling with mine is absorbed into my weary heart. Blood freely flows in nourishment of my spirit, renewed. This little poem was inspired by the following lines from “Said the Shotgun to the Head” by Saul Williams. “When I can feel you breathing into me i, like a stone gargoyle atop some crumbling building, spring to life a resuscitated angel.” Continue reading A Moment, Turned Around
. I’m very pleased to say I have a poem in the current issue of Olentangy Review. In addition to the text, I also recorded an MP3 of myself reading it for their Virtual Reading Room. This was the first time I’d ever done a recording and I had to google “how to make an mp3 recording ” and teach myself. Fortunately, it was quite easy and I felt pretty damn good that I still have a few brain cells firing up in my brain. Although I’m not too fond of my voice, I took someone’s advice and just did it. … Continue reading Olentangy Review
Homage to “Out of Africa” The first whiff of steeping Dark Roast and… beneath the Ngong Hills the low murmur of the coffee pickers, fingers wet with early morning dew. Continue reading Morning Meditation 10/7/14
The walking path stretches out before me, each step a peek into a crystal ball and I the gypsy soothsayer. Continue reading Morning Meditation 10.6.14
You breathe fire for the audience, a bravado thin as vellum. Behind your fingers a tongue waits it’s turn for celebrity asses and all gather round to roll the black ball. Continue reading Nepotism
Cool-ish is good enough in the dog days of August at 8:30 in the morning as I hose off the bamboo littered patio, anticipating my first sip of dark French roast and the pop of a fresh Georgia peach in my mouth. Dear Sunday morning, what is it about you that always starts out so hopeful? Continue reading Morning Meditation 8/10/14
Kick against the sun. The great generator, its spangles and chains. Belly into dusk the silence the still air the curve of trance. Let your shadow shimmy over the floor of the deep end. Mysterious. Cool. Like Jimi plucking steel strings with his teeth and spitting out stones. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Shared on dVerse Poets Pub, an online community where poets share their work and support each other. (image via) Continue reading the deep end
