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    

SOFTLY WE GO

The words spoken were like threads thinning at the elbow, deep thoughts from a cold heart with warm hands   a story of the distant from here about adding to the next step after the last one taken   speaking darkly about alleys cutting between buildings of memories and voices at the clothesline or the … More SOFTLY WE GO

JUMP IN

  At the end of the earth there’s a diving board where grieving souls and soiled hands search for security and a higher calling   there comes a realization there are no road signs or directions   but the hope there’s a safety net after the jump      

OVER HERE

A place strong like a river   surroundings soft on the eyes and easy on the hands   drawing out the best of long fields where sunsets command a second look and rains are infrequent   while angels harmonize in the scent of lavender dissolving the unknown

JUST TO THE SIDE

the shadow staggers behind   out of rhythm humming a song no one ever heard   there were times of shadow separation crossing the line a string of walk-a-ways never followed through or followed up   and the lack of respect the disinterest toward the shadow spending time leaning, fading back, crossing over or through … More JUST TO THE SIDE

SOMETIMES ALONE

Day turns over its hand the imperfect fame and weak applause of dusk follows into nights cover where careless fears settle within a harvest of solitude   the sound of breathing entertains the imagination of rebels  in hiding nearby while in the black beyond there is always something like a vanishing accident or an unused … More SOMETIMES ALONE

LOST ROADS

It’s a twisting of hands, a thirst to indulge the spirit of the getaway, the radical, unradical of wish and desire; air through a chrome grill chews hungrily the dark of night on tendrils of unlighted roads.   The tires roll out a language of hate and speed; the normal is scrapped for expression. Roads … More LOST ROADS

WAITING

The piano room was a glass slipper waiting for perfect hands to free the sound. Sunlight through the curtains spread a yellow pollen-like glaze over the furniture. Books lining shelves resurrected the curious. The room possessed an unexplained magnetism. A place for the temporary soul to embark on an expedition of heart. A grand oriental … More WAITING

MARCHING

There was side stepping, avoiding a disaster. People pointed. Like thunder they moaned a noise like trees falling.  There was no far away when gathering started out flat and solid.  Hands with a cause formed an ocean like seaweed waving. Hearts of motion breathed energy. Eyes alighted like hungry animals. Their language one or two … More MARCHING