There is a sweetness much more
than that of honey,
in the caress of your arms,
there is value,
so much more,
than money,
in the kiss of your lips,
upon my cheek,
when you wake me
for coffee,
and afternoon singing.

We both know the secret.

That this place without you
is just a place.
But knowing you are near.
Is enough to keep me here,
darling won’t
you tread the stars with me?

Darling won’t you thread the
stars for me on your loom,
and wake me with your gentle
kiss,
darling how you bloom for me!

I could never leave this place,
as I open my eyes and see your face,
when you wake me
for coffee,
and afternoon singing.
(c) Dm 2015

TODAY.
Abs_nce (e)

missing letters like missing
words,
like missing faces,
we don’t talk the way we used to,
and I am momentarily saddened by old songs,
and a dying keyboard,
as I retype the word,
“today”
like a fish gasping for air,
but still no water rushes in,
no swift tide,
to carry my heart
away.

-dm (c) 2014

When things are miserably bleak,
and our inner vision grows weak,

we lose site of the shore,
the things that ground us,
the stones that bound us before,

we let slip the broken bits,
the silent slips,
that only our hearts perceive,

and we leave.

we reach out from broken,
for something new,

we abandon rivers and roads,
the familiar things, we once knew.

And fly, like a finch- blue feathers,
yellow beak shrieking in elation,
as we lift
from the cage.

We lay aside old griefs and sorrows,
we lay aside malice and rage,
and slip the bars of sadness,
and embrace a joyful madness,

and in doing so restore the balance,
of a jaded world,
to explore it's continents,
oceans and sea depths,
for diamonds and pearls.
and in doing so,
we who are free,
touch - reality - the distance.
(c) DM 2017

Feeling rather off lately.
Must be time to stretch my wings.
Flutter up, and out,
above ordinary things.
I feel a chill in the air, and a feeling- that familiar glare,
of red and orange bokeh lights on the freeway,
dusty clouds over head,
waking up under the overpass of your love,
and the heart beat that
beats ahead,
ahead of the others,
ahead of the crowd,
it whispers, "Stand up straight,
don't slouch, speak up loud.
Throw off the familiar,
shake off the cloud,
run with the leopards and
leap with the deer,
unbind your icy feet,
and crush the new year."

-Dm 2017

family.
The crisp of sulfur,
the crackle of lights,
reflecting on faces,
and sighs.

years.
The aloneness of empty,
card houses, stacked,
against the blur of
spilled watercolors,
and tears.

Escape.
With me here for
seconds, to remember it
no more, as we pour the gasoline,
and quietly latch the door,
the crisp of sulfur,
the crackle of lights,
reflecting on faces,
and sighs.

Goodbye, goodbyes.
(c) DM 2015

these faded feathers,
smoldered by fire,
we flew too close
to heaven,
now strangled in wire,
dreams collecting
dust in static towers,
of harbor lights,
a voice haunts me,
“this city is beautiful at night.”
charcoal black,
a thousand colored diamonds,
do you remember?
how you made me stay awake,
before I had to leave,
whispering anything was possible,
you made me believe,
then went away for forever,
and you were gone,
forever,
sometimes you still visit me,
somewhere before the dawn,
smiling with your darling flower hat,
and I smile as you wave back,  
your smile and slender arms reaching out,
your summer skirt dancing in the wind,
like a silk curtain of black,
but that is when then the crows arrive,  
and they begin to tear at my heart,
as the river of hope,
turns to blood,
and decay,
a horrid dream,
on the hardest days,
they find me,
the crows sweep me away…

I wish I could wake you,
and then I would say:

wake up sweet baby,
wake up sweet baby,
it’s just a bad dream…

And you would kiss my brow,
and I would fall asleep next to you,
instead of
falling downward,
spiraling away in invisible flames,
and remembering when
we played connect the dots,
with fireworks and stars,
and silly lovers games,  
before the light,
left your eyes,
and all constellations,
fell from skies,
and all that remained,
was the sound of sighing rain,
an empty bed,
the tangible feeling of your disdain,

wake up sweet baby,
wake up sweet baby,
it’s all a bad dream.

DM 2015 (c)

when october
dulls your name,
and your heart becomes
december,
we will be christmas and
new years,
together-
your name will be
on my lips,
like still frames,
of the time we
fell in love
sweet summer time,
and we will sink,
into the next year,
like stones sink,
in water,
and when depression,
tries to steal your
fireworks,
we will rise
together,
light up the blackness
of night,
lift up your eyes
so bright,
your name will be on my heart,
like still frames of the
time we got lost
in the storm of life,
but found a way to be
alright.

we got home
cold
but laughing,
and we
warmed
our love
by firelight.

you and i,
we will be
alright.

i promise.
pinky swear,
i will always be there.
i promise.

we will be
alright.

(c) DM 2015

I know you're struggling.
And that it hurts so much,
you clutch your heart,
the en-ending, unrelenting,
mire of ache,
and each tiny feather,
pulled free reminds you,
of what it means to break.

But after the storm has finished her sad raging,
the glass is empty and contemplating,
and the pleiades dance is waiting,

Just then, you will see a spark,
tiny, shining, spark,
giving birth to light,
a seed of promise,
buried deep,  
cradled by the night,
and this will be the
healing hope,
that lets you down,
from the hang man's
rope,
that kisses your
tear stained cheeks,
and holds you up for weeks,
reminding you that a
seed must die before it blooms,
and honey it's your turn to bloom.

(c) Dm 2015

WOKE
Dark wind,
dark wind,
knocks at the door,
sorrow whispers,
“come in…
come in.”

They say Icarus died because he flew too close to the sky,
Daedalus’s son,
So I ask him why?

He whispers,
as if a lullaby,
“a broken heart,
a broken heart.”


So lost in beauty,
that could not be undone,
once you fly so high,
you see the beauty of it all,
and then you taste the fall.
It was a broken heart that took
his wings,
dark waters,  
stinging tears,
wax, feather, and strings.

Woke,
to being alone again,
and hum the song,
of Daedalus’s son,
“A broken heart,
a broken heart.”

The melting of the
wax, has begun.

DM 2015

Funny how the soft touch of your hand,
Is home to me,
laughable the way you're
drawn to me.
And your heart
Is the best way to get the data,
From my crashing mainframe,
To back me up,
Without condemnation,
You're familiar without failure,
And yet we fail each other daily,
But hope,
Makes your embrace- HOME.