Imagination Dance Prayer

Time
I felt it

Movement
of the Sand

Glaciers Sure Awakening
Running Free

Pure Crystal Granules
Flowing thru the
Hour Glass
Of Life

Zebra Black
And White
Sudden Flashes of  Golden Brilliance
Dark Blue's Ocean
...Sailing By
And Red...
Love
My Beloved Friends

I saw It All

And I was just Sitting there

I was just Sitting There.

Thinking about the first poems I wrote
Taking my notebook, on a sunny day
A solitude park
Located in a small town Illinois

Feeling the sun on my back
As I scribble the words for a new poem
The melody of birds singing
A small breeze upon my face

Back in the days
Where I was writing for myself
Where I was the only one reading
The visualization of my own thoughts

Poetry is unique
Everyone imagines words a different way
Never let anyone define your skills
Write out your heart, poetry is made for you

Rewind.
Back. Again. One more time.
To a kind,
another, close but distant
Memory. A flame. You, me?
Us.
I remember what it was called.
Trust.

You cower under the bedding
Darkness all round
Your restless rapid breathing
Is the only sound

Your eyes are wide open
Though you cannot see a thing
Pupils dialated and your hoping
A light the morning will bring

Sharp intake of breath
What was that you hear?
Is that death?
Who may suddenly appear

Oh morning bring your light
Bring birds and morning dew
The only monster that comes at night
Is the monster who lives within you.

When the words first came out of his mouth I was squeezing her hand
My brain was in jeopardy of knocking down the very last domino to the apocalypse
Our tongues paralyzed
Our hearts pizza dough being thoroughly kneaded with Titanium knuckles
Organs being scrunched up like those As Seen On TV pocket garden hoses
Then a small shy sound is heard inside my cranium
A quivering voice shyly saying
"May, it can't be that bad. It's just like Surfing. Surfing in the wipeout zone"
That one timid voice paused all chaos
Each domino standing back up,
Resuming its natural and rightful spot
I turned to Morgan and smiled a big goofy grin
And as I grinned I said
"Morgan, love, it's just like surfing. And I know there is no board that you can't ride."
She then looked back up at me and laughed.
"Okay then. Come on, the ocean is waiting for us."
Morgan paddled out into the calm ocean and there was no hesitance to start the wild ride that we she embarked on
Because we knew that it couldn't wait.
It took months before balancing became manageable, for that's what eight rounds of chemotherapy can do to a person
Like oxygen corroding the Statue of Liberty in the rough rain storms of New York
And as much of a rigorous athlete she was, she could not avoid the first gnarly tidal wave, or those following in its footsteps
And then there was the last wave that glided into a series of tubes. At any moment she could collapse within
I remember in the break between the first and second tubes our wishes were granted
We were married in the tiny chapel inside the hospital.
And I kissed her
I kissed her radioactive lips and her puffy steroid chipmunk cheeks
I hugged and caressed her bony body with tubes all attached
I kissed her for the last time
In the third tube, right before her eternal coma she asked me a question.
"I had to wipe out sometime didn't I?"
I wept a monsoon on months end
When it was suggested to terminate life support , through barrels of tears I nodded only thinking about that one question.
Yes Morgan. Yes.
"You had a good run" I say holding her hand as her monitor went beep beeep beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

To reveal a face
Is to disrupt
The gentle slow roll barrage
To show a concealed instant
The mask dies away
In old growth misery decay
When hair & belly
Like a costume folding
United with unknown cause
Who has invented
The receding plaster
Mindful eyes
Wet portraiture
Individualized
Self-conscious stranger
You are  a repetition
And a contradiction
Cells bloom like
Palm patterns
Maps limited in form
Without whatever
Mimics Henrietta
To intrusions
Conscientious tales
Who told from
Up on great heights
No reason to imagine
A resistance
Painful recreation
Sell me your blind light
I call you out of mine

You're stuck in a rut
there's no escape
you have but little freedom
your mind lost
controlled by a demon
that knows you all to well
welcome to your living hell