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.           Advertisements

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

OPEN ABOVE

A fallen sun drowned in black. Iron painted sky, the hammers of thunderstorms hidden within. Angel wings fall from heaven. Insane nightmares scream through canyon walls. Monsters live in the rush of rain; green blue waters hemorrhage mud brown. Cymbal crashing winds sever branches. The storm consumes the weak and unstable.   The orchestra of … More OPEN ABOVE

IN THE MOVE

A felt hat. A round angel wing molded from seasons. Warming the think machine while wandering the town in winter from rains and frost on the jacket borrowed from a clothesline in an alley where last night’s party revelers slept through a midnight rain while some searched for fame and dreams beyond the fingertips beneath … More IN THE MOVE