THE ARTIST

regarded as the outsider   music and song crossing borders through the senses to make sense, for the combinations to work   dialogue success of an idea desperate creation painting over painting confidence and conviction   the pop and snap the finished product   the conclusion with unlimited opinions        

A BREATH RELEASED

the energy of day resigns itself to evening   thin shadows cast linen gray images onto sides of cottages and front porches   the soil and trees release a tired breath as night occupies all spaces   darkness closes day lilies, a reminder that time runs with us until it fails      

A COLOR THAT FITS

there,   standing beside a forest,   its green declaring war with one color,   victorious,   capturing the eyes with intimidating power   a meadow, jealous of rough barked guardians without voice   reaching to, almost touching infinity

LIGHTED CANVAS

seasoned arrows   birthday candles   flames highlight the years and passing shadows   candles, joyous for children sensitive to middle age sentinel lights for the elderly   a breath reduces the flames to smoldering wicks,   a festive aroma encouraging smiles and other thoughts

HANDS OUTSTRETCHED

shapeless   descending rain onto the skin running the vines of the outstretched hands as welcoming drops drift into random paths directed by gravity and unevenness finally released to the ground, the willing undertaker of the falling from heaven    

COLD VENGEANCE

its where the pavement ends and road signs are shot to death   scattered sickly scrub brush with harpoon needles waits for victims   sweeping lizard tail art marks ancient sand, evidence of survival   everything breathing or searching for water is the appetite of the desert, a soulless vacuum encouraging the line to be … More COLD VENGEANCE

MINDFUL VISITOR

I sense a stranger a cloud without a name half light the other gray   no voice to introduce the spirit without a smile, coat, or hat as it enters my thoughts like a  midnight diner person, sure footed, a table in sight, back to the corner watching for misplaced stragglers, loners and those wanting … More MINDFUL VISITOR

THAT’S IT

Is it the end?   such a distance form what was the beginning   security stood close moving safely one way   avoiding corners unknown shadows selecting carefully common welcomes   now a glove is missing from the hand I knew   remembering the avenues we walked under curved boughs in all seasons speaking softly … More THAT’S IT

PASSIVE LIPS

what is gentle to us when the curse of mourning lays desperate on our eyes collapsing granite souls as flowers bend and skies appear to fall onto shoulders as night holds sad the hostage, a weakened heart on its knees with questions rising from passive lips    

REMINDING ME

that’s the cloud holding my dreams, I know the shape I recognize it often possessing my words within its corners and folds, desperate emotions, wounds, joyful expressions, the in between, and prayers for voices no longer with us, gone to rest as I stand under the cloud I trusted, a witness reminding me to keep … More REMINDING ME