Sunday 24 March 2013

Undercurrents

As I walk down to the shore, we rise to greet each other


I get caught up in those moments
Those moments when we both grow in size and grandeur
Just from the knowing of one another

The recognition
The reclaiming
The taking possession of

And as I undress and expose hidden places
It unfurls itself around me and reveals undercurrent treasures

I Put My Pen To Paper Anyhow


The words were not there
But something was stirring deep within
Insanity or brilliance, perhaps both
Understanding the fullness of its urgency has never come

I put pen to paper and wrote anyhow


I wrote what I saw within
Heaven and Earth
Unlaced and dancing
Beating upon internal drums, I could barely hear

I put pen to paper and wrote anyhow


And though I am sure of very little
I am certain of one thing
That you and I, we are pieces of all of this 
This primal dance of Heaven and Earth

So I put my pen to paper and I write anyhow


Friday 22 March 2013

The Sky is Kneeling Down


Tell me...

Before you close your eyes
Tell me of today's miracles
Did you part the Red Sea
Still the sun and the moon
Bring back to life what was dead and gone

Tell me...
Where will you keep these miracles of yours
What will you do with them
Will you weave them together and sleep under them
Will you carve them in red stone and build a Tower

Little one, little one come to me
Little one come to me
The evening birds they sing their song
And the sky is kneeling down
And the sky is kneeling down

Will you build a Tower so tall
That it stands high for everyone to see
So that you never forget
And always remember
So that your legend becomes a page in humanities story

Little one, little one come to me
Little one come to me
The evening birds they sing their song
And the sky is kneeling down
And the sky is kneeling down

Tell me...
Before you close your eyes
Tell me of today's miracles




Wednesday 20 March 2013

March Writing Assignment


Blight was found on her roots
It would give rise to a most loathsome shadow

(I was given 4 random words (blight, rise, roots, shadow) and was instructed to write a poem as long or as short as I desired.  The above is what I came up with.)

February Writing Assignment


There was a wilderness about her that was savage in its intensity
The woman's spit was fluid fire ~ liquid desire

(I was given 3 random words (savage, desire and spit ) and was instructed to write a poem as long or as short as I desired.  The above is what I came up with.)

Snowforts and Snow Angels

They unite!

The swish swish sound of snowpants as sure thighs stride
The crunch of wet snow under boots
The disobedient strands of hair escaped  from her mother's tightly braided handiwork
Whipping about according to the wind's will
Runny nose, watering blue eyes, and cheeks reddened to a rosy apple glow by winter's puppy dog nip

Intent on a snowfort and snow angel mission
No break taken except to quench thirst
With eyes closed, her mittens lift the glorious white mannah 
Tongue and mouth delight in the taste of winter that the snow carries deep within her hold
Could any wonder be as beautiful than the bliss of an eight year old on a storm day?

Friday 8 March 2013

Those Irresistible Ones

What makes someone irresistible?
What is it about those scrumptious men and women? 
Why it so impossible for us to not dive into the many fathoms of their depths?

Their Sunlight
Their Twilight
Their Midnight
Their Abyss
Their Trenches


Why are we so driven to understand them?
The dreams they have for tomorrow
The struggles that built and marked backbones
The tantalizing perfume of their scented thoughts ...

 ... That tease and lead us to the out of reach places of their minds

How privileged we feel just to hang upon their edges
For a chance to breathe the breath of their soul's exhalations



Monday 4 March 2013

Why Bury Yesterday In Such A Shallow Grave

Why did you bury Yesterday in such a shallow grave?
Why invest so much of your time in what no longer exists?

There you are, on your hands and knees
In the overturned dredgings of the elapsed


Why must you insist upon exhuming the past?
Constantly picking through and re-examining memories and moments

It would seem that you are looking for evidence ... of what?
Are you hoping to find a pulse of life, among all that decay?



Mother's Early Morning Whispers

I watch you as you sleep
Our lovely one
~ A softly breathing angel~ 

But soon you will awaken
Our unending promise 
Burgeoning as busy hands and feet


Eager to start the day
Our limitless potential
With curious eyes and incessant tongue

Can I tell you a secret?
You will change the world 
On your mark. Get set. Go!



Friday 1 March 2013

His Pocket Filled With Lightening

This morning he leaned in 
And stole a kiss from my sleepy lips
I looked up into warm brown eyes
And I saw God visiting there

Smiling
Loving
Seeking



So I kissed him
And discovered that he also 
Had a pocket full of lightening

Oh my ...