~

Cast among the downpour,
gates beneath dark clouds left open
The creek is rising, drowning underbrush
darkening tree trunks
moving swiftly the discarded
Collected at the walls of this home
stone and mortar slowly crumble

From a desperate vantage point
overlooking nature’s angry powers
I see a shape, a silhouetted aura,
eyelet gown of gold stitch, woven ribbon dreams
Mahogany hair flowing, eyes captivating,
floating atop muddied raging waters,
directing the flow with blown kiss persuasion

Swept away, barely a breath remains,
swallowing life in murderous gulps
Flailing intoxicated waves, undertow’s grasp…
when a hand reaches, fingers interlock
Glazing blue skies whisper in sunlit reflections,
ocean breezes soothe washed out tides,
as a sand dollar wishes on a seashell

Upon this beach I am now safe within her heartbeat,
tasting her Pina Colada lips, warm and sweet
I drink in her flavour neath palm tree shadows,
cool in the heat, but hot of her skin, salty, wet
and my heart hears the glistening, tingling my senses
drenching me in desire’s hard to contain,
as I endlessly drown in her perfect love

I woke up feeling empty,

and I spent the whole day trying to find what was missing

Am I the only one you follow home
From the subway late at night,
As the street lights form my shadow,
Hours before the morning light?

My briefcase, though it’s leather
Is empty. And it’s old.
Once, long months and years ago
It may have carried gold,

But I’ve thrown it all away
As I’ve gambled ‘way my soul,
You are stalking just a shadow man;
I cannot make you whole.

I can tell you stories,
Some are lies and some are true
I’ve no intent of malice,
It’s just a thing that poets do.

Turn an ordinary circumstance
Into song for all to read,
Sometimes the song cuts close to home
Causes heart to ache or bleed.

When a poem causes reader tears
The poet also cries,
For the pain that wounds the reader’s heart
Is real in poet’s eyes.
Phil Lindsey  5/28/15