~

“Well she's walking through the clouds”

Little wings keep her upright
as she strolls through the sunrise
now brightly glowing within my heart,
blind to my feelings

“With a circus mind that's running wild”

Beneath azure tents of atmosphere,
smiling at another perfect day in her world
While tame white tigers
roar on cue

“Butterflies and zebras”

Watercolor happiness fills her eyes
as she chases the beauty that is her nature,
caressing all that she touches
with the wonder that is her essence

“And moonbeams and fairy tales”

Moonbeams, something lost in my imagination
and once upon a times, when poppies and dandelions sing
the saddest of songs for my desires
flood in a downpour of dreams not realized

“That's all she ever thinks about”

While frolicking childlike atop cotton candy visions
never once looking my way,
finding this love I hold so gently,
only for her

“Riding with the wind”

On whispered breezes she disappears
as day drinks of twilight
and weary eyes find star light harsh…I sleep,
waiting for the new day, waiting for her…once again

~




“Well she's walking through the clouds”

Little wings keep her upright
as she strolls through the sunrise
now brightly glowing within my heart,
blind to my feelings

“With a circus mind that's running wild”

Beneath azure tents of atmosphere,
smiling at another perfect day in her world
While tame white tigers
roar on cue

“Butterflies and zebras”

Watercolor happiness fills her eyes
as she chases the beauty that is her nature,
caressing all that she touches
with the wonder that is her essence

“And moonbeams and fairy tales”

Moonbeam, something I have not called her
and once upon a times, when poppies and dandelions sing
the saddest of songs for my desires
flood in a downpour of dreams not realized

“That's all she ever thinks about”

While frolicking childlike atop cotton candy visions
never once looking my way,
finding this love I hold so gently,
only for her

“Riding with the wind”

On whispered zephyrs she disappears
as day drinks of twilight
and weary eyes find star light harsh…I sleep,
waiting for the new day, waiting for her…once again

Slowly I collect the petals lying on the ground
One by one I hold them as I dream of only you
Silence on this morning is my never ending sound
Sunrise creeps above the field not offering a clue

When there is a darkness that surrounds my fragile heart
Blinded by the emptiness that clings upon the vine
Drained of each emotion at these places that I start
Walking in a circle just to breathe this one last time

Why is it that pathways seem a crooked winding way
Finding every corner leads my steps into the fall
Tree lined sad existence of a world now gone astray
Echoes render nothing as my tears so loudly call

Here I fall upon my knees, my strength in weakness gone
Sinking in the mud so deep, now caked about my feet
Heavy is the burden weighing firmly on this dawn
Reaching in the distance as my mind it bids retreat

Falling ever faster neath this lonely garish mire
Sludge of every life before, above my eyes the view
Saying farewell to my love, my only true desire
Holding up the petals in the final moments due

Taking to the deep my feelings tightly locked inside
Giving up, that someone will retrieve me from this fate
The end has wrapped around me as I know that I have died
Disappearing in the shadows formed beyond the gate

Loneliness feels just like this…in rooms without a door
Staring at the carpet now revolving down below
Watching as the gray begins and fading smiles pour
One last dream, one last thought, as now it’s time to go

Quiet echoes bring the night of cricket song and firefly
Masks of clouded abstract shades intercept
Foaming colors take the eye to moments of shadowed dreams
Crimson plumes beneath a starlit canopy
Cars, like low flying jets, unaware, stay within the highway lines
Footing soft on dry grass down paths not yet carved

A sphere, above mature pecan trees, appears as curtains lift
igniting the eastern sky in beaconed majesty
Slowly puzzle pieced mist clears and bursts of color,
rainbows of dark bands announce the arrival
as this evening’s lunar show begins amidst
heavy sighs and mesmerized smiles

Full in splendor, basking in myth,
the blue moon, distant yet touching the soul
for this night is shared, beyond horizon’d glare
and focused thoughts of two places, two hearts, one sky
Whispers follow beams of ancient descent, quietly finding her
hoping she will hear and know…for it is this moon that connects us

There you sit
In your red crushed velvet jacket
Swaying to the music
A ribbon in your hair

Gazing at the bad boys
In sneakers torn and tattered
Smoking in the corner
You just can’t help but stare

Silhouette desires
Pearls form your neckline
Sweetly blowing kisses
Below the neon light

Can’t they hear your whispers
Seeking merely favors
Nothing past tomorrow
For only but tonight

Longing for a taste
***** on the counter
Fingers crossed and hoping
Waiting to be seen

Lonely minutes count
Stiletto heels are hurting
Could it be they’ve noticed
You’re only seventeen

Standing on the ledge
I can see below, jagged reminders of happiness
Treetop dreams of echoes traveled
Toes tipping the cliff face, pebbles fall
bouncing to their own beat,
unlike that of my heart,
staggered and frail

Peering down on those lives,
white picket fences in quilt top designs
like tiny ants, moving about,
frolicking between corn row wisdom and apple blossom beauty
Never once looking up to see
this man who knows he can not fly
reaching for the depths calling his name

A strong gust of wind whistles
beneath dark clouds mingling with my stare
Still moments have escaped,
replaced by the emptiness that is my mind
holding only one thought, one view
footsteps, a straight line, uncounted
in a fashion of leaving…far below

Golden horizons beckon
of a last setting sun, one final time
Flowing rays of watercolor brushstrokes
That I…we once enjoyed,
hand in hand, singing songs of a forever love
that fell like autumn leaves in silent
multicolored tears, puddles of drained melodies

I cling to my hopes…
like a crooked root protruding,
grasped tightly for fear of falling
Yet all along know I must…let go, release my dreams
I find so hard to forget…your kiss, your smile,
your laugh filling my soul with joy…but I can’t
if even there is the slightest chance…but there is not

Standing on the ledge…someone push me, please

Why’s she dancing with him while their playing
A song that we called our own

Can’t she hear my heart, its breaking
God, I’ve never felt so alone

How come he gets to be so happy
When I feel I don’t belong

Why’s she dancing with him…
While they're playing our song

Staring at the hourglass
Counting each tiny grain of life
Moments that passed before
Resting in a pyramid pile, the lower half…youth
White and pure, unwanted beach’s breath
Identical but different…used

Age remains atop
Seeping in centered illusions
Falling through a narrow passage
Seconds, minutes, hours…it descends
Plain and boring, nothing much here to see
Routine ruts of tired steps

Then…one granule an unusual shade…effervescent
A single speck glistens…morning glory blue
Illumined before my eyes…finding the middle
Spinning in the gritted whirlpool and I realize…it is you
This is my time of love…I see it clearly
As it moves lower…leaving me…spiraling towards memories

Frantically I shake the container, it changes not
Losing you…watching…in panic’d wave smashing the glass
Tiny slivers lace the pieces, sharp, razor like
Sifting through hysterically, searching for you…my fingers
Sliced and oozing…crimson floods the mound
Everything is tinted sorrow…it all looks the same

You are gone, swept up in life’s saturation
And still I bleed…tears mingling
Drenched in loss of a broken heart
Lying in a dampened dune of garnet puddles
Becoming one with the earth below…
I have lost you…I am out of sand….

~

Passion’d Mountain Top

The air is so much thinner here
Miles find my eyes gazing,
valleys wave in gardenia gestures
and foot prints form in seeking patterns

Smooth stone of rain drop kisses
falls steep in overwhelming beauty
as I reach for a few more steps
of overlooking apex in snowcapped dreams

From this height far above
the sleeping village and sunset ribbons
I can see, more than the mind can imagine
yet not father than my soul can reach

As heart beats in mosaic designs
echo from peak to peak,
they flow on zephyrs of silver clouded beauty,
settling upon your tender skin

Always when twilight horizons form in the east
and starlight canopies unfold
my love soars on breathless whispers
from this passion’d  mountain top…endlessly to you

~


Framed by affections,

unlocked, waiting...

weathered of vibrant

thoughts and dead bolt

delusions


A portal of desperate

desires and relinquished

pain, for the light

through my cracks and crevices

now shines


My heart is hinged,

eternally,

by brass pins of endless dreams,

tightly fitting into

the perfect grooves of

your love


Twist with simple ease

my handle, dull and waiting

for the sheen of you

ever bright, glowing

to polish me,

to make me

new


Open me,

swing me freely,

so smoothly I move

allowing the morning breeze to sift

beyond peep hole shadows

creating a passage

so that I may

walk so deeply

into you

~

Framed by affections,
unlocked, waiting...
weathered of vibrant
thoughts and dead bolt
delusions

A portal of desperate
desires and relinquished
pain, for the light
through my cracks and crevices
now shines

My heart is hinged…
eternally by brass pins of endless dreams,
tightly fitting into
the perfect grooves of
your love

Twist with simple ease
my handle, dull and waiting
for the sheen of you
ever bright, glowing
to polish me, to make me
new

Open me, swing me freely,
so smoothly I move
allowing the morning breeze to sift
beyond peep hole shadows
creating a passage
so that I may walk so deeply
into you

The day is wet
A chilly feel
November skies are gray

But still the sun
Shines in my heart
Your love takes me away

The calender
May say one thing
To me it's summertime

For every day
Is beautiful
Since I know you are mine

my mind spinning in kaleidoscopic directions
and dancing in the streets
collects traffic light colors
in an ever changing constant sheen of red

staring as crowded sidewalks corner me
in an alley by the way
scanning every frowning face
and candy store window…for those dark eyes

tapping my toes to the sounds
calling from second floor balconies
draped with confetti grins and waving hellos
in a paraded cupped hand stance

walk / don’t walk lights flash
in syncopated beat with this moment
as I see your reflection in revolving door glass
and my heart spins in your movements

crossing guards jump, cardboard stop signs firmly in hand
white lines on black asphalt beckon
as this two way street, (perfect for dancing)
leads you straight to my arms

~


Painting a picture of porcupines playing
Pincushions out in the field
Purple and pink for this playful perception
Plans of their purpose revealed

Painful endeavors of pacified pranksters
Presenting a pie at their place
Pecan or pumpkin, pickle, pineapple
Pieces are smeared on their face

Putting the paint on some powder puff paper
Pleasure in each stroke is plied
Pausing to peer at the porcupines playing
Prancing in pansies they hide

Puzzling problems with pretzels and peanuts
Posturing people to prove
Pistachio perfume in prime presentation
Preaches that peaches will move

Polishing pastels on pre-printed pages
Prized the possessions we seek
Paisley the plumes of a peacocks posterior
Portraits now come take a peek

Pampering piccolos play the piano
Pure as a pelican’s prayer
Picking a parcel of plum flavored pudding
Poetic prose fills the air

Pleats in my pants shout in proud proclamation
Puddle my pores they perspire
Poodles on playgrounds prevent prosecution
Plotting my hearts pure desire

Passion precedes every past tense of parting
Piled with a presence so true
Painting a picture while purposely dreaming
Promising my love to you

~

Perhaps…it is the light,
reflecting in symphonic visions from dampened roadways,
serenading my heart in melodies of whispered thoughts,
painting lyrical lilacs on a gray canvas
with fraying edges

even as clouds connect the sun,
I sit alone, on a worn leather seat,
fingers tapping the steering wheel in rhythm with
the endless miles connecting my cultivated dreams
with pictured fantasies that may prove to be just that…
fantasies

yet I look,
optimistic eyes perusing spring fed corn row wishes
and sunflower sonatas,
which my heart faces with fevered emotion
and anticipation of each new coming day…

(constantly aware of roadblocks set up
along the shoulders of your heart)

Distractions come as an eclipse darkens the sky
or is it my heavy eyelids causing the detour,
yet my soul is alert to the possibilities
of what might be waiting,
behind that locked door
where silence allows me to hear your words…
written in the wee hours of the morning

an invitation to share this morning with one who matters,
one who touches me, one who feeds me
with a simple hello and a cup of coffee
or something more…fantasies become realities…perhaps

~



Perhaps…it is the light,
reflecting in symphonic visions from dampened roadways,
serenading my heart in melodies of whispered thoughts,
painting lyrical lilacs on a gray canvas
with fraying edges


even as clouds connect the sun,
I sit alone, on a worn leather seat,
fingers tapping the steering wheel in rhythm with
the endless miles connecting my cultivated dreams
with pictured fantasies that may prove to be just that…
fantasies


still I look,
optimistic eyes perusing spring fed corn row wishes
and sunflower sonatas,
which my heart faces with fevered emotion
and anticipation of each new coming day…


(constantly aware of roadblocks set up
along the shoulders of your heart)


Distractions come as an eclipse darkens the sky
or is it my heavy eyelids causing the detour,
yet my soul is alert to the possibilities
of what might be waiting,
behind that locked door
where silence allows me to hear your words…
written in the wee hours of the morning


an invitation to share this morning with one who matters,
one who touches me, one who feeds me
with a simple hello and a cup of coffee
or something more…fantasies become realities…perhaps

Period


I’m lost within this maze of worried words,

         seeing,

                        perusing,

                                              gazing,

upon the ending of this sorrowed sentence

                                           wishing,

                          ­hoping,

         pleading,

that it is not the end of us…period

~

Picture Perfect

It is within this channeled dream,
along a corridor of white washed hope
that simmering shadows form an outline
captured of a view beyond the eastern fence

I breathe in the mist now lingering
of sunrise wishes, sweet to the taste,
tempting to every desire which amounts to only one
when photographs found are of us

Small pieces of a longed for past,
squares of colored sequences collected in a box
Blue and gold ribbons concealing
each heartfelt moment of what was supposed to be

I hold this celluloid memory close to my face,
your smile leaps from the glossy film
reaching for my heart with lilac fingers
and I open myself…wishing it were so

If only your eyes could see mine,
gazing affectionately at what I hold in my hand,
wanting only to be like this photograph once again
the two of us…picture perfect…in love

Each breath hurts,
in my chest and in my mind
Such a poor example of life,
this heaving chest,
up and down, break dancing inside my shirt
not even a consistent rhythm

You see it mirrors my heart (a broken metronome)  
in silent convulsions
that no one sees

and I become the fool, the giggles from the back row,
that guy picking his nose in the car
thinking he is invisible,
like that cloud on the horizon
attempting to sneak past the sunset
without being noticed…bright florescent pink

But I have always been this fool,
I fall, I get up only to fall again…
you would think I would have learned by now

My fingers hurt as
they move about the keys
in interrupted design patterns
finding small lettered squares (shapes)
pushing up, harder than I push down,
but not because of the action…

it is the words, all of these words
thoughts, ideas, dreams, just as a Christmas tree in a fireplace
up in smoke…though slower, more painful…

Pine needle ashes in reruns, always reruns

~



My heart cries
of this pain she feels
Draped in nightmare cloth,
heavy weave of iron bars and barbed wire jagged
Stealing her smile, breaking her will,
devouring happiness before it blooms


Tormenting tint on broken windows
and shards of anxious reaching
with extended arms that long to hold her,
much too short, but still trying…never giving up
Tears fall of distant eyes,
voices scream in angst of denial


For I stand here demanding this pain,
begging, pleading to the heavens…
place it on me, take me to my knees,
for it is there that I crumble anyway,
a massive heap on crushed posies
staring on me with sorrowed eyes


Pounding the asphalt, my palms bleed
blood mingles with gravel,
red clings to visions as worry wreaks my gut
To feel helpless… worthless
Cussing blinded metaphors
of withered understanding


Take my heart, for it knows not the pain
yet feels it in waves of despair…
crashing of desires and needs,
dreaming it with open eyes and blistered imagination
Hear my plea, take it from her
place it on me…please

Those who lash out when the heart speaks
avoid the many mirrors reflecting themselves
For in this rippled dream,
where perfect does exist
and mistakes are long gone like a Milli Vanilli song,
they fail to see that we are all human…
errors come with the package (batteries not included)

Sidewalk footprints, back and forth
pacing past the entrance to that world
where words have no meaning,
regardless of how they are spoken (or written)
Self-absorbed deeply in the waves
of that ocean tide of fantasy
crashing in white foam feelings, disappearing by sunset

What is it that makes us who we are…
our smile, our fingers, our brand of cigarettes
shipped in plain brown envelopes,
our thoughts, our dreams, the poetry we write
when we need to get it out…good or bad
When lack of judgment drips from the skylight
illuminating courage to do what we shouldn’t (even in darkness)

Wrong, I was wrong…regret, more than I could have known
I have looked in this mirror, then I looked away quickly,
Ashamed of that face, fell three stories below my heart  
slipped on the disgust splattered at my feet (by me)
sunk up to my knees…bent, folding, scraped and bruised
but I require no sympathy, for I am not that devil Jagger sings of…
at least I hope not…please allow me to introduce myself…I am sorry

~


Drenched in the reality of my imagination’s trust
A voice in my head sings in subtle verse
Feeling fingers probe my core
As my heartbeat comes in shades of two

Whispers, constant, gathering my attention
Pointing my eyes in northeast directions
Filling my psyche with caffeinated emotions
Earlier and earlier still, waving my pen

Massaged internally by caring hands
Tickled funny bones laugh out loud
As love holds back my salted tears
Breathing this very life into my words

I write, with reckless abandon…poetry
It comes in waves, ever present, like the tides
Crashing on believing beaches
Leaving sea foam trails for me to wander

Gardens bloom when my eyes are closed
Fireflies on star dust wings play while I sleep
Beauty insists I walk when I can no longer stand
And I am not myself, nor do I want to be…for I am

Possessed by you, by everything that is…you
My thoughts are only of you, my dreams…you
My words, in this ever poetic form…you
My heart belongs to…you

I am poetically under your spell
Driven to pen, to impress, to embrace
Eternally in never ending seasons of melodic versed life
I coexist…possessed ~~~~ by you

Powdered Sugar Daydreams

All time becomes invisible, ceasing to matter
as this place in all its magic and wonder
blooms upon the gardens of our imagination
playing like birds on a sky of opal blue, wandering streets of old

Where rising suns on aqua horizons shift,
singing of a new day which is happily part of the prior,
extending beyond any view offered along the rocky shoreline,
as we stroll on delta desires and riverboat reveries

Brick paved streets, uneven but smoothly polished greet us,
a sidewalk table, warm cuppa, green on white awning shade,
sweet treats beneath wings of powdered sugar and tender kisses
within the eyes of all passing, and we without a care

Music fills the square with harmony in our heart beats,
a three piece jazz ensemble plays melodic romance
while your hand, your fingers, tightly holding mine
and I feel your pulse tap out the rhythm of our days

Jasmine arbors bound by geranium breezes
invite us to be one, as love springs forth
in cool waters from passion’s fountain of forever
and we daydream together eternally

I know that some of us, well many of else have noticed the tiny hemorrhoid who has been festering around HP for a while now. He pops in, leaves his unkind marks on our skin, causing us to scratch and irritate the area. What I am wondering is how many have noticed his poems (for lack of a better term and in an attempt to be somewhat nice) trending with only 1 like?  My friends, they trend because so many people view them…not like them.  That is how it works here at times. Views vs. people following you. He has only a few following him (proof drugs are still running rampant) and it only takes a few views to cause his used toilet paper offerings to trend. This, in my opinion is his goal. He spends his time trying to discourage anyone he comes in contact with so that it will cause us to view his vomited works. (Ok, getting a little uglier). He slaps and then runs, waiting to see what we will do to feed his regurgitated ego, and we follow, accepting his bait.

My suggestion is to completely ignore this hemorrhoid, block him, no reading, no leaving ugly remarks on his work…just make him invisible to you and every one else. Let him write his little crayon projects and post them on his own fridge (because I’m sure his mom won’t even put them on hers). Will he eventually go away?   Probably not, he is so full of himself; he could not live without himself. But, we can go away…not from the site, but from him.

There are people like this everywhere…people who get joy from hurting others, people who sit there with a pen in one hand and something else in the other. (use you imagination)  Ignore this pain; don’t let it get you down. If we all do this then maybe, just maybe he will get the hint…probably not. But maybe the swelling will go down a little.

This is just my opinion and my suggestions.

For what it’s worth, I understand…
to have that hanging over your head,
echoed threats vibrating concerns
as harmonic waves touch your heart

Blame sent in a plain envelope
addressing your need to be kind
It is your nature, they know it is…
even if postage is still due on their lies

Listen to me if you will,
hollow words are only meant to hurt,
cause pain where none is deserved,
to ease something inside of the sender

Let them cry their rivers
overflowing with requests for sympathy
begging forgiveness neath a reflective moon
as they attemp to eclipse your smile

You know who you are, you know the truth
and though you may sneak away
it is their loss not yours
and if I may…our gain

For you will see these arms are open
and long to keep you safe…forever

~


The ripples hypnotize
in synchronized patterns of tossed pebbles,
slowly finding that life is not a dream,
lying alone in the mire


Circular motions now distant,
touching an eroding shoreline still asleep,
weeping of moments lost
then slipping away


Fading into the deep
endless flow of hopes and wishes,
only to disappear
with little importance


“I am these ripples”