Am I one of these?

Sat in a workshop,
living within images.

Getting dizzy inside of
this spiritual life.

Between the covers of a book I hide.  Becoming the characters I dive in deep.  Landscapes no longer escape me, continents keep me content.  Empathy develops page after page.  Lost in the tales they tell, taking their journey to heart.  Colors entice my eyes, stories stimulate my mind.  The spark of life rekindled. Today I begin again, page 177.

He sits alone
lost his smile.

No face today
he's disfigured.

A violet petal sparkles,
sun glints from the sky.

Pure white
paperclip.

Bent outta
shape.

Prepare to
be waste.

There is no
escape.

Shadows fall, the path winds on, each step I take with care.  There is a chill in the air, wind blowing autumn leaves, too dark to see, yet so clearly I hear.

(Footsteps)

My heart thumps,
adrenaline flows.

So many thoughts:

'Don't look, keep walking, why now, why me?'

Gypsy-woman,
a silver-tongue
in my past lies.

A blue-jay sings as
her rocking chair
creaks.

Three moments in a freeze-frame.  The dark sky pauses.  Light falls as the swirl of the ocean stirs your heart.  Tomorrow we long for.  Some say a time of replenishment, a time to return.  But here we sit, rocking away the blues, listening as the wild bird sings.  What can we hear when we are no longer there?

Six red petals
plucked from
the edge of
darkness.

When the son follows in the footsteps of mother nature. Another moment of emptiness to savour.  She plants her seeds, wondering not where they will grow.  Her stories ride upon the breeze.  Green is the medicine she shares.  A bright eyed child removes the fear, the shadows exposed, deeper than before, a simple shade divides.

Lime green, her soothing
words, repairing broken
hearts once more.

Rebounding raindrops
sparkle like diamonds:
relaxing in the garden.

Like the roulette
wheel & ball,

tell me lies and
my tears fall.

Drips bounce, the puddle becomes a mirror, my eyes reflect on bygone days.  Tears form as icicles melt.  The snow is my canvas.  To scribe my name without a care, to know the identity of a future love.  Upon the white a red heart beats... my love calls me forth - "adventure dear boy for all your worth" - an ice-rink beckons me .... New York, New York, oh the big apple bites!

A tin can rattles along the road.  Blown by the lungs of the world.  Hospitals call for the injured.  Sirens ring out.  Screaming so loud.  The wheels spin.  A coffee is spilt.  Across the table it flows.

Red is the smoke rising, blue is the heart of the moon, orange rests alone...

Purple are the clouds in hiding.

In the blue
clouds drift,

Silver linings,
hidden inside.  

Together we dance,

A small frog leaps,
the lilly pad pops.

June becomes a shadow in time.

Still resting here as the blue jay flies.

Dust in a bowl,
an empty page.

You are the dust gathering, day by day.  A mirror image of an empty page, the stars are shining but your curtains obscure.

This moment takes me as I regress, seconds tick, slashing rain, eyes green.  Gone like all those yesterdays, physically altered, a puzzle rearranged.  

Alone in the swirl, seeking my center, over my shoulder the world spins on.  Tomorrow where the future lies, my hands washed of pain and regret, a place to seek and forget.  

Green eyes revise.  Another anachronistic statistic rising on a graph, computing the numbers, refusing to stumble, aiming to wander.

A gesture in time I still hold alone.  Dignity is a vision refocused.  Look at this.  Just one small detail on a cufflink.  This lamp shines a light.  Illumination is a walk in wonder.  Upon the sidewalk they rest.  Invisible for the most part, and then her dream began.

Blue is the lagoon
within your eyes.

Outside the trashcan falls to the ground.  Can you hear the crash?  It's a cymbal sounding.  Love is the duster which polishes your soul.

Faces washed out by the rain, eyes strained.

I wander like the breeze, invisible it seems.

A small tree grows, the sidewalk cracked.  

Plumes of vapor rise to the skies.  

Cigarettes, we burnt our regrets.

Memories of many moons past. 

When our youth bloomed.

In time we rewind.

I am the marble in motion,
following the same track.

Overgrown lawn
rusted and green:
Machinery down.

The land of sand beckons, a single rose appears, pointing toward the sky, red touching blue, small rays of light, sun-bleached time.

Dust swirls on the old road. A white cross stands alone. Further ahead a preacher kneels.  Prayers are shared, and thoughts exchanged.  His black robe ripples in the breeze.  Bent twigs for fingers, deep-set eyes like beads.  Sacred like a scarecrow, yet inside he flows.

The blue jay flies,
a wild flower grows.

Sidewinder Steve lowered his shoulder.  You're a lucky girl, we've scored a direct hit.  Hummingbird flew directly into view as he imagined her perfectly still.

The old winds resonate, clouds come and go, their nature thrives, their story survives.

Heart beats, fears arise
Fixed in fragments, her
lips revive...

An urban lamp

the cracked pavement

Memories of fallen friends:  

Long wild hair

Frenetic limbs

Let's dance!

The winds howl  

Glass shatters

A candle burns!

Patched these stories together.  Looked across the seas.  Whistled amongst the winds.  Heard the words of the eagle in flight.  Danced with the dragonfly deep in the night.  Darkness erased, bring on the light.

The days of rain that bleed on my windows... I trust the weather but not the folks inside. Like a snowglobe I feel shaken, and I wait till the snow has settled.

The candle flickers, ink flows, the page is filled.  Shadows dance, ideas emerge, her voice is clear.  Fragments arrive, a puzzled piece, at last we shine.

Down with dogtown,
carving the concrete
and riding the rails.

Blue eyes twinkle,
Yellow sun shines,  
Indigo rises.

The wild dreams return.  Another moment swirls.  The leaves of the oak capture me.  A blackbird swoops.  The rain falls, puddles form.  Again the butterfly ***** her wings.  The nature of music sings.

Gripped by the thoughts of a thousand years, swimming in the sea of a zillion dreams.

Twirls of seaweed, and glimmering shoals we pass.

Into the monument, a lost shipwreck; I anchor my life in her underwater scenes.

Bubbles rise, the world
awaits my voice.

Together we dive, hiding our secrets, afraid of the past.

Antique screens hold golden dreams.

Scaling a dizzy height I struggle to achieve, as the ladder wobbles my jegs become jelly.  Step by step I grasp each rung, dreaming of the peak.

A secretary returns my smile, her note is exchanged in the wink of an eye.  To race like formula-one and hit a perfect swing , the satelite spins as the thread is stripped.

She lived for golf and danced like James Brown whilst, I surfed the airwaves seeking a new sound.

Science,

a

white

umbrella

with

flickering

flames

and blue

green

names:

she

painted

my

life

insane.

English tea and scones with cream.  

A cigarette dangles from his lips.  The blonde-haired girl watches as the smoke rises.  Between them a newspaper sits upon the table.  

They have stopped to peruse their purchases:

The Bletchley code-breaker story always enthralls, and John Lennon never grows old.

Smoke rings continue to rise, eventually to fade away .

Merging with death,
I seek rebirth.

Tossing my name to
the winds,

I am born anew by
removing my skin.

A virus isolates
with exhaustion

A prisoner to the
motions of many

A long look into
global relations

A double-jab to
safety

Your eyes make
ice-cream melt.

Sometimes the world revolves like your favorite CD.  The sunshine beckons, great adventures await.  

Sometimes the world is slow, like a 45 on 33 - taking the long-play to the end of the day.

Sometimes you twist and shout.

Sometimes you hide and cry.

I am sometimes the rain which falls.  My middle name is silvertongue. I am the honeybee in dance. I dive like a kingfisher into the wild river.

Today I am the sun, warming the day.

Sometime I'll dance your way.

Gathered together with friends.  We welcome the warmth. The bread is broken, the soup is pure.  Tonight we celebrate. Outside no more.

The whiskey becomes your genii,
a spirit which guides the way.

Out of the daytime mind, moving
away from the mundane,

adventure whispers your name -

"Together we'll soar like an eagle"

Poems like spilt milk.

A blank canvas

paint-splattered:

These

Empty words,

this

Restless mind.

A heart torn from a magazine
shaped by the fingers of desire
awaiting a new lease of life

Wild as she wandered.  Lost in the lights.  Seeking solitude. Her art expressive, her painted skin.  Ink stains on the pathways.  She's sentenced to blend.  A torn reciept, the crumpled playing card, a seven again.  

Weeks passed in years, moments in days.  Tomorrow is a broken rainbow.  Lost in thought, the breeze remains.

My eyes are the sunset, tangled webs of green.

Water is my freedom as twists of blue do leave.

Rolling down the blinds, I seek myself a dream.