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Green reflections
Clouds of pollen
Butterfly mornings
Her face forms in summertime
She sells electric ego
And flowers of herself
Reaping the wild wind
From a haunted garden

sometimes the past comes
Back in pixels
I see them fly by
And arrange them
As fast as I can

But the picture is always
I was but floating on
Stars in my eyes
Couldn’t feel a thing

And now I’m down below
In the dirt writhing

I eat the dirt and **** it back out
I am alive
i think i know
that somewhat ulterior suggestion that you crept into my mind
like a vivid rainbow across your face
light transmissions offering up your words
your image is on repeat
and our sentiments are all quite something else
always on hindsight
on turmoil
easily not speaking
confused about what we want
overexposed to death
we each smell detached
the way we sound in the distance
often too frail to reach inside our beautiful loneliness
COME ON *****

the sky is darker than jet


i can smell the torrents from another town


my cigarette feels the wind of an angry god


and let me feel the power of faith



I really don't think so
Yes it is
No it isn't
I'm going to public it
Oh please don't, no one's going to laugh
I'm already laughing
I'm hiding
Too late, haha
Tha's not funny
i have you in my arms.

the world blurs away
as the auburn shadow of the venue
shines through closed eyes

the slow guitars reverberate
through an empty ballroom
a sacred sound for sacred bonds
we dance slowly in devotion.

i have you by my side.

tomorrow fades from sight
as the incandescence of a city
shines through a kitchen window

with wet, cold hands
music from an old radio play
harmonizing with the droning tap
we sway slowly in peace.

i have you close to me.

the cold of the outside air
is warmed by tender souls
in amorous union

while we hum the notes
of our favorite song
the solitude of a vacant lot
heartened by a waltzing pair

and time disappears
and nothing really matters
but the two of us, and the music
the back and forth
and the serenity

for i have you in my arms...
 Apr 2021 Persephone Dagenhart
Bloodstains on the white carpet
She lies supine, gaze fixed on the ceiling
Smothered by an infinite ocean of red
Never to be seen again
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

The past      etched in time's memory

engraved in my mind-scape  
faces    places

colours    sounds     smells   moments

undercurrents of emotions  

of feelings   of images

of glimpses of joy   of sorrow  

of laughter    of  tears  

of love   of tenderness

of   resolutions    of doubts  

of regrets   of remorse  of loneliness

of what had been    or could have been

everything had evaporated like dreams

but all seems so dim  now  

neural debris    
weakening dendrites  

the past is but shadows

    an illusion  

  a shadow-play    

the essence was then --  

most memories have vanished or  faded at the present hour

the past   what are its uses    

what are its abuses

time measures all  

swallows   all  

it takes no sides  

neither a friend or foe

the past     I was    

the present   I am  

the future   I don't know

5th May 2014
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