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

STANDING BENEATH

piano playing rain lightening flames in a sky burning with storms   drums of thunder the slam of gods wearing armor   heaven backs up from swift winds claiming the air   as rain beats dry dirt with a wet hand    

LINEN SONG

fair winds circled past open windows teasing checked and striped curtains snapping their ends against red stained brick walls signaling like a ship messages to the sky  

WORDS

words slip through boundaries of light and shadow between fences posts past sleeping cats   words are strength from imagination fathoms   words become whispers in night   promises in morning   begging hurting believing following   into dreams yet to appear  

A QUIET STAND

she is stone   a weeping of messages from the hard side of time   she is a half open door an envelope unsealed   passion fire burns within   her tears are jewels spilled to the floor                     broken. weeping crystals, messages from time; the … More A QUIET STAND

OVERVIEW

OVERVIEW     the moon commands highways of ocean currents   forming waves   those momentary curled masses of random strength splashing languages onto ancient shorelines from somewhere deep   creating footprints during the highs and lows                        

NIGHTLY FAITH

Every evening he gazed up at evening stars whispering words he collected or a poem or song he was fond of watching the mist of his breath layer gently into cool air   and even if clouds blocked his view he continued to speak knowing the stars were still there  

EXPRESSION

Poetry strong a subtle story without subtitles   breathing out words to grow on or avoid   ideas pressed in the winds of thought   hold tight the cards place the bets take the winnings and then the door   tears for hope and faith to the end

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

NIGHT REST

I’m on my own line   there’s no sideways just the only road I know   a nameless opening to slip through   the green grass on the other side is well past and without flavor to remember and faces forgotten   night rest now comes easy