i filled my notebooks with your words,
my canvases with your spirit

you're in my soul, my heart, my being
you eternally inspire me.

you may be gone,
but i still have you.

Clinging to my artistic integrity,
like its full of helium
And about to float away from me.

My poetic release in a world of uncertainty,
Gives me control,
no one to manipulate me.

At a time of utter disregard
for human decency,
This artistic exclamation is my relief.

From the chaos of personal grief
And misunderstandings
and unjust decrees.

How is it that we can no longer SEE
each other at all,
for the light that we bring?

a yellow rose winds to the skies,
blossoming, letting soft petals fall to
the cidery earth, blushing in
the caverns of the sweet-flowering day,

inspired like the greek
sun-god helios but
drawn out of rhododendron
and apple, drawn out of love.

a thousand years of summer,
the wolf, the thin mouth of sky,
a diamond bumble bee, the
gifts of a stolen sun,

shaken out like a rattle snake,
the broken angles of death,
the lost side of each word,
with all its intentions and promises -

fallen to the floor, like an apple,
or a blind mole loving
the soil, the dry earth,
the faded parchment sun,

or a rock of ice, in a tangy glass,
where the summer sun
grows roots and shoots,
shadow domes and leafy golden skies.

Paint me a picture
Of your skin
Does it bronze beneath the sun?
Or sizzle and blush
Like your cheeks
When you’re in love?
Is it soft to the touch
Like when your palms graze
The smooth surface of water?
Or rough around the edges
Like your favorite book
And its lovingly worn corners?
Does it melt in the heat
Like sweet syrupy treats
Dripping through your fingers?
Or does it welcome the winter
With wide open arms
As if greeting a lover?
Paint me a picture
Of your skin

Then :

Stigmas shredding this rough frame
Strips of blood
boiling, wanting to explode
I feel their anger
I hear their shrieks, their war cries
I don't listen.
These monsters and me
are at war.
                                                            ­                                                  Now :
                                                               ­    Soft pink caressing this canvas
                                                          ­                                          Calm rivers
                                                                ­             nurturing, bring it to life
                                                            ­                                I feel their peace
                                                           ­  I hear their hummings, their odes
                                                            ­                               I sing with them 
                                                           ­                 my stretch marks and me
                                                                ­                                           are one.