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When you're homesick,
you should go outside and close your eyes.
Then look up into the night,
see all the clouds in the same blue sky.

*It feels like home doesn't it?
It did, even for just a second.

Clouds are the same everywhere.
our love was the look you gave me -
full of longing -

controlling me with your voice
and your legs,

until i collapsed, wild and hungry,
desolate and content,

every heartbeat seeking love,
every dream imagined.
 May 2019
Stained Glass
"a bruise that almost never goes away."
 Apr 2019
She lives this life
As if she had lived it before
Nothing surprises her
Nothing throws her off her stride.

she has places she goes to hide
In her mind
The craving she keeps in the basement
Darker still.

She knows already
Our shadows are everywhere
Hiding in the walls.

She knows everything.

She walks in the redwoods
The canopy above
The ferns below
Green in the light
Dogs running all around
Putting out her arms
Palms up
And wondering
While her heart aches
For all the innocence

The story's not written until the day we die.

The illusion of immortality
Makes us waste so much time

She already knew the end
She had walked this way before.
 Apr 2019
Solid metal
Becomes my mental box's
Can be hard to keep locked
It holds irrational fears
Residues of yesteryear's
Clinching onto the grim
Realities of past sorrows
But of course I'll be back
This way again tomorrow!
Traveler Tim
 Apr 2019
South by Southwest
I write poetry
for eveything else
has failed

My life has no bottom
It's Hell down inside
my well

Do not feel like you are
Do not feel at all

Go write some kind of
It's better than digging wells
 Apr 2019
Appoline Romanens
Some prose poems patched in his hands
Suddenly then, ecstasy or hypnosis faces him!
As he was reading, bathing in scents of cedar
She stands before him, disrobed, Phaedra-like and solemn!

He mouthed those lines while blossomed within him
A garden of secrets, rustling beeches
The mused muse came to visit him when
Every morning he read on, gold upon her head

He never put the velvety book down
The air heavy with laughter, desires, and rhymes
The Western wind gently rocked them as they held
Each other…Yet as the last poem echoed, she adamantly fled!

Translated on April 17, 2019
Nancy, France
This is a translation of a poem I wrote in French in early March, exposing the topos that the allegory of inspiration is a fe/male muse to poets

The theme, Beauty, is this year's "Spring of the Poets" topic and inspirational concept for us French poets. It's a sort of national festival celebrating poetry through gatherings, readings, conferences and exhibitions throughout France.
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