HEALING WOUNDS

this road that road   it’s the forgot of what there was to forget   a place a room, shallow, deep, a pillow of dreams   the opening of seasons living in the river of today, reflecting away the ordinary   fighting against “instead” without slipping into madness where broken wings turn to rags, but … More HEALING WOUNDS

BROKEN HEARTED

the window foretold outside weather   changing winds brushed summer from blue skies   fragrances reclined as flowers unfolded, releasing their seeds fulfilling the promise to return like dreams even for the broken hearted  

SEPARATING WITH STRENGTH

after the fire we are ashes, airborne, tumbling, gray flake shadows barley an image a winged spirit over the wall to the other side hiding in plane sight pounding out a direction to another place angry, but free accepting the thunder and the sun          

I’LL TAKE PLASTIC

wish me well I’m in a pattern of landing hard in this balloon filled with lead while feeling dark all over in the middle of the day when I know the eyes of a mannequin has a soul and a plastic heart truer than some that I know

THE LAST PICNIC

scattered at the crossroads a pair of shoes left without a note plastic flamingos broken bottles cigarettes and a purse   cactus cast shadows over sand and rock   the sun moves past the other side of barren hills   cool breezes give flight to paper plates and red napkins   while night blinds the … More THE LAST PICNIC

SURFACING

Be the road long and unending with steps repeating   like a drum releasing a beat while stepping through a curtain of promises to the other side   where removing and separating is no longer blurred like underwater images   we try to forget   surfacing a little less broken

WASHED OUT

Broken desires are deserts without souls thirsting for water breathing hot air spread across cruel sands   they are beyond faith and prayers   like promises unfulfilled slipping through broken fences and over empty lots   each desire is a passion of fire   the ashes become answers forming a new story

FIRMLY IN PLACE

There stretched out, the ocean   perfect in all shapes protected   ancient in wisdom   its waters sound welcome to all   though it knows not the broken heart life without love shadows of death   yet maintains its authority to always be there            

A FOREST WITHIN

He dressed roughly, like a storm shaken tree.  His corners were unbroken.  A long step claimed his ground.  Short salt flavored thoughts watered his words with meaning. Work was his passion.  There was reason with his plans. Quality is the art he perfects. Concern speaks from his eyes. He rises before the sun, claiming each … More A FOREST WITHIN