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TD 7d
Her white hair spilled
spreading over hills
for aching cavities filled
their corroded gaps gently soothed.

Soft to a warming touch
brittle to shadowy gazes
chalky white and such
the state of eyes chilled in desperation.

Her banquet hollow
to a mourning form
echoing walls for the swallow
where day dawns sweetly at the sound.

Nature craves her tendrils sweeping
to tease the weary hands of season
revealing strands to anguished weeping
and draping the paths of sorrow
in lacy fripperies more fanciful than words...
Nov 26 · 79
De-Scent of Pining
TD Nov 26
I write like mad
because demons chase insanity
and so do memories.
Nov 26 · 57
Autumn Empathy
TD Nov 26
cold the crow sighs
his black eyes
squinting in the light
the scarecrow squawks

his talon's---straw feet
strands brushing tottering colors
nestled in haphazard piles

and below in icy chill
I sigh
my nose buried in time
whose fallen minutes lay

haphazardly in a pile
of autumn handkerchiefs
and ribboned breaths..

leaf(v)ing much to be desired
Nov 11 · 98
Flickering Spheres
TD Nov 11
We are waiting for that moment of discovery..
when our prose become eyes to the world.

And the world becomes our eyes.
TD Oct 31
The yawning expanse widens
cloaked in mystery
or mistaken identity.

As I age I touch
questions that stretch
into winding miles.

At the end of it all
the gap-toothed smile of time
bazaars with wide-mouthed clowns
begin to grab at eyes.

And I tilt towards
their callous abyss.
Longing for the wonder
and the pleasures
a childhood braves.

Realities yearn for bliss
despite their ****** garments
their blush is hidden by strips of cloth

and just a hint
of feverish insanity.
Oct 8 · 310
Piece-Meal Season
TD Oct 8
along the tops of trees
memories loop
skipping records and stones
time framed in colored tones

leafing through the skies
irises are eyes
in techni—-famed
and petals untamed

wincing in the stark
where nightingales
sighed their last
their audience aghast

as they drip their demise
from teary heights—a prize
awaits in nepotistic fashion

autumn embraces the sun
and cold, the passion
Some trickling thoughts I had this eve....
Sep 25 · 264
A Romantic Gollum
TD Sep 25
Could I

catch a raindrop on my lips and
spare it a kiss?

taste moments like whispers of romance
teasing my dreams?

wonder at the miracle of life
as it breathes?

delight at a horizon dipped
in diaphanous seas?

I have,

I want more.
Sep 20 · 674
Zeus Syndrome
TD Sep 20
Billows the volcano angrily
lava spittle dribbling down his chin,
"I'm at the mercy of the clock.."
his lolling drone like a dull metronome
clanging to and fro.

Fists shake in angst
their ephemeral silhouettes
disintegrating into the miasma.

Biding our time
we are all just blowing smoke

and cancer sells.
I apologize for this. I'm not trying to be so fatalistic at all really. As humans, I feel we chase after permanence like it was something to grasp--like we have that kind of power, control. We can make good choices in life, but to say that we control outcomes entirely seems a bit conceited/foolhardy really. We can impact change, but our outcomes depend on something more, at least that's how I believe.
Sep 19 · 448
Madrone Medley
TD Sep 19
Verde the solace seethes
jealous of the tumbling wind
tossing bountiful waves about
in careless patulous splendor.

Out of the burning light
tendrils warm anfractuous trails
placid to the touch
alive beneath leathery veins.

Their tenuous links splinter
unaware of their impending plight.
The nights will give way
to mornings of gold and dying.

But I know--
after it all
new life will bring solace
the company she longs for
--once more.
Inspired by: the moments of contentment I felt when standing near our old madrone tree, as a child, before when I felt alone, and after when I was surrounded by love.

Solace isn't being alone
only that we've experienced it
and understand
there is more life
that we haven't met.
Sep 9 · 655
Ambivalent Altar
TD Sep 9
There's a genius waiting in the wings,
but I have yet to discover him.
Once I've ventured
beyond my perch
I may by chance meet his form
and claim him for my own.
As of yet...
I'm leaning towards precarious.
Aug 31 · 500
TD Aug 31
“Any news is good news.”
Lies—all lies!

“No news is good news.”
True—all true?
Aug 12 · 555
Plight of the Plunderer
TD Aug 12
The shape of your oceans'
crescent moons and trumpets cast
exude music insipid--inspired
mellifluous, austere, untamed.

Their restless hands raised,
lilting rivulets
emboldened, brash.

In the shallows
coaxing sighs from darting thoughts
curved lips that sip at soul-searching.

In the deep
your presence billows, gapes
the lustrous strands of time
lapping at the shore
pillaging our rocky clefts.

Your form
free, like words that
slick the pages of our moments
steeped in yesteryears
dark with depth, boundless.

If I plunder your lines
seek out the sullen darkness
tread your sunlit blues,
dare I? Should I?

Amid your tempting swells
and endless salutations
I'm prone to lose sight
of what is more than oceans
and what is less than real.

Yet, you are the tears that linger
in the peripheral,
the million eyes
meeting their purpose
on a stormy night.

And I begin to build
my rudderless vessel
in hopes of catching a glimpse
of your veiled treasures
because I can't find my own.

Jul 14 · 1.0k
Shallow Pots
TD Jul 14
Opalescent emotions/thoughts riotous
tossed like drowsy eyed flora
in dove-eyed bed sheets
their nuances silken edged
and cool to the touch.

Sunlight drives winks of promise
the beckoning beam
a gossip mongers wicked tongue
as tortured petals/seeds
share their space
so indiscreetly.

Boasting a spider creed
a web of delicate mazes
that twist and choke
the mixed bouquet
struggles for forbearance
and composure.

Ahh you are a funny bunch
eager to burst forth
without a root to bear
beautiful in your swilling path
unsubstantial at best..

And yet you bloom so beautifully
the experience untamed
and I am quite fond of it.

Blossoms no matter how reckless
leave behind sweet dreams to be desired.

And I am all about dreams.
Jul 14 · 326
TD Jul 14
Can I be a little impetuous please?
I’ll show off my petticoats
and striped stockings.
The world a dance floor
crazy, wonderful
I’ll twirl barefoot
on its sullen brow and lucid eyes.
And when I’m finished
my curtsey will be the envy
of the sky.
And the world a lovely shade of pink.
Jul 6 · 468
Ugly Sweater
TD Jul 6
Why do I crave it so ..
to be desirable..
the longing spins
under my lids
like dancing dervishes..

Fighting the urge
selfie posts
and crying jags
I turn away from kind eyes
and words..
like I’ve found the answer.

And I have
but my heart tells lies
I know the truth
is in my soul
and yet darkness pervades.

Why can’t I accept my weaknesses
are stitched in for a purpose?
Still I keep unraveling

but I am—a tapestry
designed in love.
Jun 17 · 687
Living Notes
TD Jun 17
Tremors trill
feathery wisps of time
through tired members
resting on bleached white ivory.

The song whispers on
long after
the music dies.
Jun 6 · 182
Eternity Internal
TD Jun 6
If I were a closet writer—
peeking out behind the coats
staring into a world
innocently wondrous

suspended on a dream
that imagined the world at its first sun
like the smile before
a tear ever fell

existing in the moment
between love and poignant pain,
where rainbows were a glimmer
and horizons an inceptive hush

Heaven could be real—

and I believe it can.
Inspired by: child-like faith
May 22 · 1.9k
Tangible Landscapes
TD May 22
The moon dripped from her lips,
a liquid glow,
a hypnotic swell,
flowing over the vast  
valleys of life.

She kissed the contouring shadows
with vows that dimmed
with every breaking

Her darkness
in stark contrast
to the smiles in her eyes.  

Some say the soul is in the eyes,
but aww the lips
are tactile pleasures defined.
May 22 · 451
Rip Van Wrinkle-Free
TD May 22
The Willow cried
her trickling sobs
a shadowy space
between two
shoulder blades.

Alone, there a girl
perched precariously
her smiling mouth
and frowning eyes
a tentative nod

held by mounds of grass
and a propensity
for sensitivity.

She could tumble dry
or get caught up
in a waterfall of
tender sentiments.

She never could decide.
May 22 · 380
A Mirr’ Warning
TD May 22
Her sullen lips are
poised for obscurity.
A delicious pout
to rage against
Father Time.

Oh vanity
you fair bewitching
How you ruin
any chances
for contented sighs.

When you wail at
the ravages of delinquency
as if they were willing lines
to pillage your face.

You are only chasing after jealousy
and dying before Snow White
utters her coquettish blessing.

And to think
all this time wasted
when you could’ve grasped at sublime
with shattered glass in your hands.
May 20 · 413
Reliving Content
TD May 20
We have yesterday.
That must be enough.
May 16 · 298
Red Skies at Dawn
TD May 16
In the wee hours of the morning
when all truths have been let
from tiring lips
I see red tinge the starlit horizon
and pray for storms that only come for me
at my breaking point.

Epitomes were made for days like this.
I’m my own perfect storm.
May 15 · 518
Posthumous Posturing
TD May 15
Were I an inking virtuoso
a veritable genius with the quill
I’m sure the applause would be thunderous
and I—
would be dead.
May 15 · 238
TD May 15
Reaching for that caught breath
elusive, surreal
thoughts weary
chasing after wavering prisms of light
and a bit of wind

I’d rather fly a kite
Apr 28 · 525
Temptation’s Legacy
TD Apr 28
The darkness smirks.

Shadows like a minstrel strum
their expectant fingers
on flushed cheeks
catching the reflection
in fevered eyes.

sinister awaits
a bated breath
a tongue that licks at sores
with fiendish pleasure.

Our craven desires
consume us—
until there is nothing left
but ashen truth
and broken hearts.

And generations of
Apr 28 · 875
A ‘Wake’ for Me
TD Apr 28
aching dreams
pain-stricken cries

a morning dew
that only fades
after the moon
has slumbered too

I mourn the sun.
When real pain lances your dreams.
Apr 20 · 660
Mad Scramble
TD Apr 20
Oh Dear Me,

I pray I never look like my own poems. I’m sure I’d boast the most pitiful disheveled facade ever.  

How does a poet look? I imagine I wear the hang dog look like a banner. If a lip could drag any more most assuredly  I’d trip over it. If regret was a person they’d be the most trending topic since the Furby.

How do you identify a poet? Look for the most distracted person in the crowd or the morose one with dreams in their eyes.

...A hint of a sun ray crossed my path once and I tripped right over it.

bemused muser
aka distracted driveler
And this is how I think. Welcome to the jungle compadres hope you brought your Jeep.
Apr 20 · 320
TD Apr 20
Hold tight to fading love

crushed petals
emit such heavenly scents.
Apr 20 · 624
Shadow Puppets
TD Apr 20
Poets pen
mere glances of
a passing smile.
Apr 20 · 804
Battle Royale Blues
TD Apr 20
I weary of my self-reflection
in the peaking light of morn.

As the tired strains of pale rays
filter through dilapidated shutters,
creating patterns on my form
highlighting a tentative resolve.

The blankets tossed about
proclaim a rest less than desirable.

Soon I’ll slip out of bed
shoulders drooping in defeat
as I battle what I fear the most
what to wear.

Hashtag #insecurities.
Apr 20 · 220
Day 2
TD Apr 20
A moth to the flame
that’s what I am,
And I only have myself to blame.
I really didn’t mean to rhyme folks. This is what came out. Lol
Apr 17 · 259
Pyg Wild
TD Apr 17
Atop the slippery slops, I slid
(slopes without the "e.")
At a loss without my seat
flustered as a rotund wallower
a-pink with plunging feet.

Below a shimmering mirror winked
its watery smile
waist high
welcoming--its embrace in sway
I often forget my fear (and "I.")

Head first I dived
(not unlike serendipity)
no guarantees of a leg to stand
crippled like a sorry hull
the shell of just woe without "a man."

Misery loved company
(apparently) so did that trepidatious "I"
such it was a staid chalk-white.
Oh to clean my slate before it framed
blemishes beyond my sight.

Paralyzed "I"
lost my life to the deca-"dance."
When regrets too quickly again became--
the one and only chance.
self-fulfilling prophecy the Pygmalion effect

Aren't we all a bit "pig-like" at times? Wallowing in remorse, regret and then when we have finally broken free at times.. we go back to that place where we started and so our doubt becomes our recycled life story.
Apr 8 · 980
How Quickly We Forget
TD Apr 8
And so it begins.
Hunter greens with shades of brown
weaved in just so
sweet relief is nearing.
Yawning fields, mouths open wide
their cheeks slightly wet with tears.
mourn the spring’s shivering sigh.
Nature’s renewal rocks the cradle
with serendipitous lullabies.

Then starts the heated exchange
where fading eyes seek
to warm their dying stems
and rest their lashes on
soiled sleeves.
Enraptured by a lulling dream
drowsy with promises.

The bitter char of crackling leaves startles
at their nestled irises.
Raucous taunts and warring emotions
on the outskirts of consciousness.  
It’s better to dream against
the frightening noise
the encroaching chill.
And sleep they do.

Aww but when spring abounds
a jaunty nod and cheeky grin
are what remain.
Naked kelly orbs wink with joy
grounded in maturity.
Their strong backs to the sun tell a story
of purpose and poise.

And I’m hard put to deny
the deep-seated brilliance realized
in life’s renewal
once again.
Mar 14 · 177
Cinderella Wishes
TD Mar 14
I want to be that one woman who enters a room and stops all conversation without even trying. I know I'll never be.
Feb 27 · 176
Second thoughts
TD Feb 27
Every time I’m tempted to write something of substance
I think of substance abuse...
and I resist the urge
to take another hit.

Feb 23 · 442
TD Feb 23
If I had a trellis near my window
I’d be the first to shimmy down it.
No doubt!
Random thought blurb #randomforthewin
Feb 19 · 269
First Snow
TD Feb 19
a lingering whisper
trembling flecks of crystal
existing between each breath

naked shoulders in a slip gown
the intangible gleam
anticipation simmers

the flush of winter
slinking in
on the wisp of a dream

Feb 19 · 125
Growing Pangs Pessimist
TD Feb 19
I once fell in like with the moon.
He was made of cheese I think.
I bit into his tempting silhouette
and discovered he hadn’t aged a day.

He lacked a little spice
so I decided then
I prefer some salt-of-the- earth instead.
I’ve never looked up since..

and I’ve avoided a lot of stubbed toes!
Jan 30 · 166
Life’s a Circus Act
TD Jan 30
After walking on stilts I’ve discovered a new appreciation for rubber soles.
Dec 2018 · 413
Holidays “Since”
TD Dec 2018
Beneath the boughs
wishes were sparkling
each delicate wink
Nostalgia’s lingering kiss.

Amid fresh-cut pine
the scent whisked memories
in swirling images
hidden behind clock-hands.

A metronome
to snow speckled hills
and darting smiles
and dreams.
Nov 2018 · 1.4k
TD Nov 2018
We are enslaved by acceptance. Who cares if we are the sore thumbs...who really cares if our identity is a blight or a fist raised in solidarity.
And yet—-
and yet—-
I milk these words like they were nuggets of wisdom..Rumpelstiltskin and his straw. We trade in our straw for bricks and build a Sphinx in our search for acknowledgement. We create what we cannot understand and lick our chops while being gobbled up by our idols.

Touche’ reflection..
Oct 2018 · 323
Tongue in Cheeky
TD Oct 2018
Why does there have to be an aisle?

No man is a—-


And I shake my head

and find my Atlantis—

before they burst my air bubble.

Oct 2018 · 1.3k
Spooky Abhor”rations
TD Oct 2018
Try as I may
I embody futility.

Ghosties slander my memories,
playing the misleading exclamation points
to introductory regrets.
Sep 2018 · 678
TD Sep 2018
Oh how the aimless spin
remarks a dying breath
cursing the heavens
spittle ritualistically applied
in bruised shades
of societal lipstick.

I dwell in mourning
watching perspectives waver, shift
amid deconstructed firmaments.
A man-made evisceration
valedictorians errant spew
cutting plexiglass
splintering in plastic waste.

The hours churn
and tempers rage
in vain at dying embers.
Anger pulses bitterly
the world is star fruit
rotten at the core.

Through the glaring dawn
insistent at the fading sun
the encroaching mob
pace like restless scientists
in search of theories to reflect their apathetic minds.

If only they could dissect
their vehement disdain
with the same indifference
all would acknowledge
windbags eventually
run out of air.

And I will weep for them as well.
Sep 2018 · 288
Privy To It
TD Sep 2018
I startle when I see
the darlings of society
flaunt their scorn
like they have something left
to mourn.
This was a poem I had in my draft box for awhile.. just decided to throw it out there without a single edit. why not..
Sep 2018 · 845
Facing Insufficiency
TD Sep 2018
wooing, cajoling, persuading
sealing fates with ashen faces
lingering like a sweet silhouette
in the flush of summer's rays..

I worry that these words won't be enough
to battle such blanket darkness
in resolve against the outpouring hordes
the curses and contempt flung about
those blindly-stabbing daggers.

And then..
lifting the veil
gentle fingers pierce and ***** at my insecurities...

and I realize..
all words are not my own..

I'm inspired.
Aug 2018 · 747
TD Aug 2018
I stay ahead so everyone can see
what I’ve left behind.
Aug 2018 · 1.0k
Flaunting Melody
TD Aug 2018
It slipped into my fantasies
a forbidden kiss upon a brow,
tenderness that longed for passion
without the threat of tears.

I fancied myself a courtesan
and dared my dreams to yawn beyond.
Centered on an intriguing glint
no brooding skies would dare chance
a pearl of rain.

My cheekbones hollowed
flush with expectancy.
A heart gaunt for liquidity
I darted like a dawning gale
and flared my skirts petulantly.

Never so intriguing was a pout
that didn't tease for something more.
If I were a bird I'm sure
I'd have feathers for brains.
Another self cynicism bit..
Aug 2018 · 377
Affixed Just So (Heavenly)
TD Aug 2018
...Little wonder why
luminescent eyes tumble
sightless on ancient bones.

Iron irises sulk
discovered listless
stuck deep in earthly form.

Pieces asunder
from the core
fade in dying light.

Hurtling unfocused
frangible instead of cast
rapt with wanting more.

Another conquest
wandering far to solder
faulty manifestos.

Never resting still
to journey on
for--their aimlessness.

A worldly wink
to one bent on
purposeless existence.

I'd rather be celestial.
This poem was inspired by meteors. :) A spacial conundrum.. in a way. *grin*
Aug 2018 · 1.1k
Mourn and Breathe
TD Aug 2018
Coffee steeped on her stove
the paneling behind a little brittle.

Where do I go from here?

There was a place
where a woman spoke and cooked
and ate candy from her past
where I could laugh and dance
and make pretty music in my head.

She was somewhere to go.
I used to dream of living there
in those moments
in waving fields and dying leaves
near cookery that didn't care about its purpose.

I didn't have to act
hearkening back to soft mornings
and firewood and curling chimney smoke
where my childhood was dreams awakened,
and I began to hope for more.

I'll never see her here again
but I visit her once in awhile
between the valleys of my life
and the peaks that seem to point
straight to heaven.
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