TRYING TO GET OUT

There’s rain in the desert where lizards and one eyed dogs live on the wrong side of the tracks and bars with tired neon’s blink onto cactus and sand where nothing comes alive except lightening and dry winds as we try for the right way leaving behind what tries to hold us back in the … More TRYING TO GET OUT

LISTENING

In the forest when raining numerous rhythms create a liquid orchestra   the pulsing of loose waters   spontaneous unexplained combinations   a perfect blend of fragrance   pine needles and lily of the valley   generous displays of greening and wetness appear like glass          

SOFT LANDING

A forceful rain releases words from the broken parts of life lifted up against the weight of gravity, into passing clouds   as the letters drift down they reform into the openness of sacrifices and shame   revealing an empty shell once complete but still beautiful.          

SWING ON

The world past the front porch, watching the same clouds set in the magic of the sky   prayers lift up from swings and wicker chairs escaping through tired screens   cars passing know only of roads, the next corner the direction home or close to it   train whistles cross over buildings and empty … More SWING ON

CLOCK ON THE WALL

It was a like a movie of memories an afternoon of family pictures unreeling   reflection shadows rainy day card games the aroma of cut grass,   all reminders of heaven without sunshine   and how time cruelly changed leaving some behind while unfolding others stiffly like a washed shirt on a winter clothesline   … More CLOCK ON THE WALL

BETWEEN STONEWALLS

The structure of the proof is the land   observant eyes and obedient ears stand fast within the silence   the strength of rocks the support of roots a crowded rain   newness is grafted in   at sunset morning glories dip their heads   the moon is a celestial flower   what’s important is … More BETWEEN STONEWALLS

SETTLING IN

Winds circle wheat tops twisting stems into spasms like thieves running over dried leaves and dead branches   sunshine strikes window surfaces when passing clouds allow percussion’s of light to pass around dense mist   the ground thirsts for rain the blood of soil      

HEAVY WEATHER

A low rumbling a quiet menace brooding on the horizon   a language of sounds ominous clouds above the reach of man   evil markings retire day’s shadows relinquishing serene space to a greater force heavy weather reflects in eyes gazing upward   rain presses onto the souls of mortals.      

WARHOL GONE

There was a narrow reason to mourn   a cerebral molting spread over partly framed orderly opinions   he was a recluse of twisted dreams pure with talent a personal connection to the souls of interest within his circle   he formed a texture of words weaving clouds into reality   rain washed him, arms … More WARHOL GONE