potential energy

in simpler times
the day could be gray
well into the night,
but all was fair
and all was easy
as she folded linens in the
hallway before supper

the garden swayed
in sunlit explosions
just outside the window,
life was stored in each
tranquil breath
as she folded linens in the
hallway before supper

its a changed day
and chaos climbs like
weeds and vines
choking the house in.
ignorance is bliss
as she folds linens in the
hallway before supper

life unencumbered
is a crazy dream,
hardships and heartaches
have insatiable appetites.
there’s bombs on the horizon
as she folds linens in the
hallway before supper

(image from mirrorsinner.tumblr.com)

harbor

soft rescue
isolation in your harbor

where does the
gazing into nowhere
lead to

daydream playgrounds
the far-off happiness
laughter in love

I want to bring everything
closer,
all obtainable

the distraction holds me
for just a few moments
and then I turn

always toward you
  my One
  my One

always toward you

(my photo)

journal-20, out of place

I don't know if I'm happy yet. nothing here knows me and I know nothing of it. feeling distant from everything. uncomfortable and unsure. my familiar home, the midnight beach, is so far away. I should be there right now. I can feel it all around me ... nostalgia is a ghost, slowly dissipating ...

and these same stars are not the same. and these trees that rustle in the wind are not the ocean's waves. the impact is different. I am unaffected so far. but we are still strangers getting acquainted. perhaps misunderstood. perhaps standoffish

I'm a late night soul. never ready for the sunrise. an aching gaze, restless, agitated. but the morning rises beautifully here. nature awakes in astounding colors, fresh with dew and wings and songs. a nude arrival, unabashed and outspoken

I will learn this new romance, embrace this new intimacy, form this new bond. this will be the place of my body. this will be the place of my heart. there's peace here, if I can settle into it. we need some time together. we need poetic interaction. we need not refuse the newness of obvious love. we just need some more time together... for now, I'm still feeling out of place

(my photo)

we kiss

we kiss until
something-o’clock
because time can just
fuck off while we’re
together

we kiss like
first-time anytime
lovers
embraced, entranced
in the moment
unforgiving

we kiss as equals
completely involved
into depths undiscovered
by any kiss before
ours

we kiss
petrified of losing
something precious

we kiss and we
forget that we
just might be
human

we kiss as if we’re
knots tied tighter
and tighter

we kiss hungry
and energetic,
sex-tasted and
lust-lathered

we kiss our pasts away,
we kiss our future closer

we kiss now

and we know everything
we need to know
about love

and the possibility of
loss

(The Kiss, fineartamerica.com)

small wings

even these
small things
have wings

the lowest on
the food chain
still fighting
for survival

in the corner
of a room
a quiet poet
struggles with
a line

I didn’t 
eat well today

and there’s an
overwhelming
voice in my
head
telling me that
its just about
over

(image by v777tony on deviantart.com)

taken by the song

I’ve taken off my skin
to be with you,
all these ratty colors
dropped to the floor

there’s no reason for me
to move from here,
either you’ll like what you see
or you won’t

our time is dying in place,
sharp seconds are a slur
and each tick is a
humming decrescendo,
indecipherable

taken by the song

the low decaying of
the knell

(image from Michael Brunsfeld on flickr.com)

journal-19, lie to me

sometimes I need you to lie to me. I'm almost begging you, please, save me from the hurt

it's a good thing the soft sand is forgiving tonight. it's more slopes then slop. and there's lightning in the clouds off in the distance. I passed by three turtles making their nests and one more in the waves making its way back to the sea. one of four girls in the group yells out hey, I love you without ever seeing my face. the order of things is inconsequential. everything is random. on purpose or by mistake

prove to me that you're really here. prove to me that you're not someone else's desperate observation. love me with undeniable pain and pleasure, given and received. let's wear out our bodies, down to the bones turned to dust.

it's time for me to go now. I've breached the skin. there's no one else around and I can't prove any of this. maybe I’m lying. maybe I'm not really here. I will save you from the hurt. there was no pleasure, and I didn’t feel a thing

surface area

smoothing surface
disrupted by the random
once of chance

cause of causation
fix of fixation
pulse of pulsation

temperamental equilibrium
asymmetrical pneuma

forever stirred
into new vitality
dysrhythmia

(image edited from forbes.com)

- by dawn it was over

the children play outside under the porch light where the insects collect

I'm trying to text on an old flip phone as the neighbor's dog takes a shit on my lawn

there aren't enough frogs or bats nearby to eat all of these evening mosquitoes

thirty-eight can be lonely when you've got too much to do but nothing else really going on

memories still care, they come around once in a while giving sweet forehead kisses

I remember pulling the window screen out and hoisting myself up into a room full of young comfort

by dawn it was over. I'll be turning fifty-three soon. the children are in their twenties

I find myself staring out the window more often now

(unknown internet source)

journal-18, climbing

I’m climbing up high enough tonight to meet the fantasy of you halfway through the air. and when we meet, we accelerate, leaving beyond the sonic boom

but caudal lag, in backward drift. the suffering I’m climbing away from. the voice of a poem that needs to be heard. not by many. perhaps... only by me

    ------

   aquaswirl, death-blue
    indication of transition

    I’m exhausted feeling
    this way
      so weak
      so exhausted

    pull the plug
    open the drain

    feed me to the stream
    that leads to the river
    that leads to the sea
    of higher ambition
    of retroactive intercourse
    of harmonious trust

    life-white, etherdeep
    simplicity of existence

    ------

that being said, I can only smile with you. a hundred smiles. a thousand smiles. I’ve lost count. its seemingly endless

catching up to your flesh, and I kiss right through you. it is a fantasy, a dreamland, as I’m climbing up higher into this mystical expression

(image by http://dihaze.deviantart.com)

journal-17, daylight

most nights I feel okay enough to die. the nights I don’t feel that way are the ones that frighten me

I’m getting used to these mornings without you. the stagnant hours, the last speckles of darkness before your arrival. that’s when I talk to myself, when I talk to the speckles. we discuss things that don’t concern you. we hide them, we tuck them away in drawers and under pillows before you get here. and then you intrude. such a pesky rabble-rouser. instigator. seeker of secrets

give me some more time. I’m just beginning to compromise with the voices in my head. not that we’ve made any significant progress either way. but the systems are in place, and your rainbow contributions are scaring away the intricacies of our recently established quasi-solutions

buoyancy - the enabling of rest and unrest without the adherence to direction. you’re a god or a devil, greedy at the tooth, resplendent by design. but why travel all this way to act as a spatial undertow when you know damn well I’ll only burn up upon reentry

(image by Bock Felix on https://daylight.academy)

realm of the earth

unique blue,
third stone of
such beauty and
such horror

tumescent hope,
keeling doubt,
this spinning lost
respiring

terra mater,
untamed disciple,
mix of wars
and cares

perfect place
in perfect space
at perfect pace
until

(Mother Earth by Karen Howarth on fineartamerica.com)

night of the moon

silversharp,
cool reflection
in dusty glow
neutrality

grinning phase,
mischievous
tidal force
of jealousy

haggard bulb,
lethargic knell
... the droning
... the drone

yet peaceful presence,
a dream companion
in monotone brilliance
by default

(image from elegyforadream.tumblr.com)

day of the sun

local flame,
crescendo of
ardent beat
and climb

fermata
over birdsong
seawave
and petalflesh

carrier,
igniter of
frenzied scream
and metaphor

arc-fallen
with heaviness
more beautiful
than blaze

(image from pinterest.com)

body heat

the glistening, as movement

  what exactly have we

  found here

  could it be possible

  that comfort is not much

  different than bliss

O, but this is both

yes... this is both

bodies melding, merging

allowed to explore

and be explored

each giving in 

to the conquering of

the other

  what exactly have we

  found here

  within movement

  underneath glistening

(Image from al-quraini.tumblr.com , my color edit)