he rides a KLR
and they wizz into the stars
vroom vroom
adventure bike, not speed
no reason to bleed (again)
no joy in riding in the rain
she likes the way it hums
the way her best friend drums
she like the way it growls
the way her mom's dog howls
she likes the way it moves
the way her husband grooves
she likes everything
about motorbikes
like taking early forest hikes
its just a thing - no simple matter
like Alice and her Hatter
she flew once,
from the handlebars
and broke a bone or two
but still,
she likes to ride
she keeps her circle wide,
- wider -
She Rider.

you gotto go there to be there.

Interests me.
A title (your name,
your “poem”)
Something definitive
About a name.
My things
don’t have a beginning
Or an end
I am merely passing by
Trying not too look to closely
At what I see.
I will return someday,
Wiser,
Eyes open,
And I will be more brave,
Not some slave to myself.
Or to you or to the world.

Flounder not, little bird
know you that you have wings?
Fly!
Lift those mighty, crooked things
let tension subside
into the joyride of climbing
undulated skies
Let go of things that bind you
and allow yourself to rise, arise!
Albeit in your mind it is as real
as what surrounds you
you are bound to nothing
but that upon which you linger.

He loves me.
Love's me not.
How many petals
Are there to a flower?

I feel myself fragmenting
into pieces that are falling
into spaces that are calling
me to knees unused to crawling

climb the tops of
tall, ivy clad walls,
slip down the edges
of cool bricks
and jump gently onto
untrodden soil..
wander through a
sweetly scented garden
and choose a flower.
give it a name.
say hello.
then tear off petals
one by one
and ask it
if it loves you.

Sheathed in a layer
of supersonic air
the wind parts for her
as she rides the airwaves
like a dancer in the sky
Stars blinking in and out
as she passes
illumined by the essence
of her presence
as she smiles upon the darkness
and revels in the black canvas
of a picture waiting
to be painted
by the brush of sunshine

i will walk.
Cant bear the thought
of talking anymore.
i will walk this talk instead.

a love like ours
was written in the stars
in little bites of caviar
and diamond studded bars

were you there
when they turned on the lights?
what a sight
for sore eyes

nothings quite as sweet
when lustre's gone to sleep

Hanging on
to the edges
of the canvas
loose threads
unravelling
my picture

you. Writers.
Bearers of your Soul.

It makes you whole,
doesnt it?

Feelings on shirtsleeves
the transcendence of a Mole.

Tick Tock
There goes the clock.
Time to meet your Maker.

I will not be cast alongside
the shallows of your grave
with the loss of you
embedded in my heart
you will depart and take
your memories with you
and I will remain,
sane, scarred..  but alive.

This isn't working for me
this gaining of pain
this that comes
with the gathering of years
my body is not responding
the way I wish it to
- a jump on a trampoline
- a fall on the rocks
Both knees scream in defiance
of my youth
and it frustrates me
when people say,
You are not a child anymore..
What are we but overgrown children
waiting for an adulthood that
seizes the day and shrugs childhood
off of its shoulders
like boulders needing to be overcome
I will remain young in my heart
as my body becomes a bag of bones.

"one last dance!"
she cried
"one last chance,"
he sighed.
And so begins the story
of betrayal
and thus began the search
for Holy Grail
for thou dost and
thou dost Not
be impervious to
the Magic of Mankind
and most especially
to the Hand and Heart
of Woman.

if i thought
the hardest thing
was moving on
then leaving
would be surmountable
to death defying

I am ready
for Change.

Lord..
chasten me with your wisdom
that I might bow down
on baptized knees
and know
that where God gave Life
the devil claimed tenancy
but where the devil
has sullied my feet,
God will wash them clean.

with some things
the closer you get
the further away you feel
as though by zoning in
you enter the space in between
'interstices' - mind the gap
lest you fall through
never having reached
the next plateau

One more day
Another week
Note the month
The turn of year
I will tell you
A story
If you'll lend me
An ear -
Listen. Be patient.
Lifetimes
take a moment
To condense
Into something that
Makes any sense.
Time passes
Blink blink
Time stands still
Wink wink
Time will tell
This story
If you have the patience
To let it run
It's course.

sweet morning
sweet slumber of night
shadows can never
be brought to light
they will merely reappear
on the other side of dawn.

Music.

Soul circles, smoke-like
- cat in trance -
simply can’t resist the dance
disappears on padded feet
simply can’t resist the beat

the rain, it falls
it stalls my heart
cold, inside,
inside of this heart

when will you be here
how long do i wait?
say, will you be here
before it's too late?

patters the rain
like fingers on drums
the clock it is ticking
while Gods do their sums

we don't know until we know
and then,
when the playground shifts,
we find ourselves engaged
in the same game
but the angle has changed
seems you never know until you know
that you knew nothing before
which means
that you never know much, ever
in spite of being so clever

scene 1: enter Noah

scene 2: enter Covid19

scene 3: what Game do we play Now?

scene 4: where were we before the End?

Hello, my friend.
Its been a while since
we touched base
since we kissed
the face of sunshine
and danced together in the rain..
But the end is inevitable,
isn't it?
We can bend the rules
and shift the goalposts again
but there comes that time
when we have to let go
and we have to say goodbye.

Fingers tangled up in
a semblence of hair
neither here nor there
barely holding
onto feathered threads
that are in the process
of becoming unwoven

i am Me
and a bit of You
a lot of You
and a bit of Me
Have we not won
in realizing that we,
indeed, are One?

not without disdain
i refrain from
your advances
king Frances
why do you
beg of me so
i am neither your bride
nor your **.

Demon
why do you choose me
to chew upon
I was Cinderella once
until you sliced my hair
with the blade
that cut Snow's heart out,
Rapunzel staring blindly
bleeding from your eyes.

like a dragonfly
he barely skims the surface
waiting as a spider does
for careless little words
waiting as a python does
for careless little birds
draws them in on threads of silk
and grinds them down to milk
drinks at leisure
for his pleasure
those of wanton ilk

Thinking thoughts
is a freedom that we have
The notion of
"we don't need no education"
A bird in a cage
sees not the space beyond
and thus does not
want to fly there
but take her on your shoulder
dont try to hold her
and she will fly
fly further than you
ever could have told her
and she will return.
She will have burnt her wings
in the face of the Sun
but She will come back
and do it all again.
For you.

what you think you saw
was but a shadow on the wall
what you thought you knew
was knowing nothing at all
passed a nearby shadow
it was nothing but a cat
tin roof creaking
at the dropping of a hat

did you try to reach me?
i am sorry i wasn't there.
i don't know where
i am right now,
somewhere caught up
between care and despair.
i will call, sometime.
when i find myself enough
to find my phone.

when skin bleeds
the soul breathes
finds air in sweet desp(air)
circles, smoke-like
disappears
irrevocably in arrears

truth be said,
you read me wrong..
that letter was never written!
rather, you wrote your own
instead of picking up the phone
and had it posted,
from me to you
and you read me as you chose.

I wait until it rains
and then i pull out the weeds
plant some seeds
imagine your tears as rain
soft soil - pull out the pain
and plant again...
Grow tall.
Grow mighty.
Grow in order to seed
something beautiful.

There is a curve,
a line and a dot .
And that means something
to someone, somewhere.
Put it down. Dot .
Write what feels right
And turn left when
It is the right way to go.

you left a smudge
of blue in your wake
footprints from skywalking
coming down from the clouds
and onto the ground
takes some effort
unstrapping those helium balloons
from yourself was a weight lifted
from your shoulders
fly not over boulders but
push on through,
feeling you feet on the ground
you're a hound not a bird
and it's a dog's life

Stay over there
and
love me from a distance
this way,
lovers can do
what they wish to do
because distance
determines it all
doesn't it?

are you my lover or not?
in my head yes
in my body not

what is real?

if my fingers do not
actually touch your skin,
is all forgiven?

I saw you coming from a mile away
and said, Stop! Stay away!
This is not your day to dismay me
This hole in my heart
will not be made whole by you
this time around
Another day belonged to You.

Wild winds were at her back.
She said, "Jack, get me outta here!"
So Jack took her to the mountain
flung her soul into the fountain,
said Goodbye Girl.
Welcome, Woman.

the smell of wet hair
shifted his shoulder
touching strand to strand
his and hers blended
one merman unto a maiden

Posing prose as poetry
Rhyme and rhythm gallantly
Moving aside curtains of dust
We do what we must to get
The point across
Spiraling like hungry crows
Across the carcass
Of a questioning mind
Wings tilting in the wind
As we look to find sense
In some nonsensical thought.

When i separate myself
From myself
I find that I am both,
Yet neither,
Something of an alien
In search of itself.

He placed her on a pedestal
And fed her milk and honey
Gently clipped her wings
As he showered her with money

She was his wife, he was her life
Until the day she slipped and fell
Easy was the fall into
The waiting arms of Hell

The distance between love and loss
Is no more than a sigh
Easy come hello
And easy come goodbye.