Where did that eyelash land after I
made my wish?

Have you seen the rainbow with
colors that don't exist?
I have .....

Dreams make anything possible
Fortune is me-made
Desire can burn a
fire through a soul
smolder and smoke
inhale and choke
We learn to live
love
fall
fly
Why do we pretend that we'll
never die?

I am here
This is the real world
I can see truth
Even if you don't
Words and rhymes mesmerize me
But you don't fool me
Take your trash and filth
And move on

You have no home here

Time and distance collapse
and I feel
H
2
O
Swollen with your scent
Touching me with the star light
that travels the
Miles and minutes
a soft caress from the past
reminds me....

As the known world
crumbles around me
my engines roar to life
rumbling
shooting fire.....
future tantalizes with potential
freedom
exhilarating.

B1

Minute

1. the sixtieth part (1/60) of an hour; sixty seconds.

2. an indefinitely short space of time:

3. an exact point in time; instant; moment (Dictionary.com)

It feels endless
especially in waiting

Stop lights
Slow walkers
Commercials
5:00 PM
Listening for the phone to ring
Watching for him to walk through the door
over
my
threshold

Forever
Unbearable

Pregnant pauses pull me under

B2

Minute

1. extremely small, as in size, amount, extent, or degree:

2. of minor importance; insignificant; trifling.

3. attentive to or concerned with even the smallest details. (Dictionary.com)

If you look

too close

you may see

nothing

The dog chasing its tail
The cat who thinks it found a friend in the reflection in the glass
Deluded
Nothing but pity
(And maybe a little disgust)
For those who who believe they know so much

Subtitle: concert cherry popped



His eyes, full of wonder
glued to the stage
waiting for the band to assume the position
sun not yet set
the thump thump thumping
begins.
His hands raise up
he joins the crowd
still melting in to the beat
as the sun beats too.
Intermission intrigues and builds suspense
he doesn't know the process yet.
The sun slips behind the flagpole
then the jumbo-tron
racing the light show (all purples and greens).
The crowd roars to life at the first
strum and drum.
He jumps to his seat
already wearing the overpriced t-shirt he bought
lips moving, reciting the words he has
memorized from setting the CD to repeat
head bobbing
keeping a perfect beat.
When the sun finally sleeps
he gets the full effect:
light show, big drums, guitar solo, stage smoke-
No encore (musically speaking)
but a visual symphony
as the fireworks make smiley faces in the full moon sky.

"You're a ***** girl"
you've gone too far
"The ***** is back"
actually, she never left
There's a few  varieties in this domain:
Some of us hang back, quiet
observing
armored
locked and loaded
ready to protect with that forcefield...
Alert
Aware
Buffering
Then there are those
malicious and spiteful
poised to pounce
and
take
take
take
Gluttonous
Perverted
Cruel
Which one are you?

Oh please...
I've grown so tired of
your yipping and yapping,
random running from
stump to twig
leaving a trail of **** behind you-
desperate efforts to be wanted-
to belong.
But no marking allows you to possess
what doesn't belong to you.
All that you leave behind
your legacy
are piles of steaming waste
and stains dripping down bark and leaves
and that sour stench
creating the perimeter that constructs your cage
and leaves the rest of us to walk with
grace and love
in the unsullied home of our hearts.

Some people
just keep blowing hot air
like what they
think
or what they
say
matters

as he approaches he can't help but appreciate the view
a skyline he hasn't had the pleasure of absorbing with his eyes
for ever so long

he begins his descent throught the tangle of vines
peering past the nests of leaves and twigs
into the double moons that stare back at him

coming upon a smooth slide
he can't help but tickle as he makes his way down
resting in a hollow before his ascent resumes

now facing a climb over two gentle slopes
careful to give equal attention to both
thoroughly enjoying the bounty that fills his hands

once he reaches the crests he continues
across a plain slightly further than he had previously remembered
still scarred by the years of cultivating life

he nears the hidden chamber of home
the place he can't forget
the place he can't stop missing

Always the hand
I remember
discipline
love's caress
a wave of acknowledgement

Strong
Firm
Guiding
Directing
Encouraging
Protec­ting
Possessing
Depending on the owner of the hand

The first hands
always able to envelop mine
The hands of a dad
cradling his only baby girl

Then a series of less important
man hands
never as unconditional
certainly serving a much different purpose

My own hands
miraculous in their achievements
never ceasing to surprise me
with their sensitivity

Fingers
Palms
Knuckles
Wrists
Surprisingly safe
Surprisingly ******

Marry*
rests in repose
The crowd of bystanders  
not  yet aware of her departure
They can't see the daggers
driven in still
Denial hangs thick in the air
choking and suffocating
Some of us stay shrouded
Our period of mourning intermittently
punctuated  
with the sting of
Sharp
Hot
Tears
Then divine numbness as we slip
into the coma of the day