When once I saw creation in your eyes,
My heart a seed, a finger rapt fist of bud,
A box of chaos, daring to be opened,
By a gentle house of reckless child, my heart
In the bracken field of surrender, saw deaths night,
The fertile light of stars in your face, cradled
In your fleshy shower of holy stone, your flame,
Your fire, nestled in your hair, undone.

Out my window
the same world
different day, day after day

I want to grab my bolt bag
tie a red bandana
around my sweet mutt's neck
hop a train, act sane
for a change

Georgia's down the tracks a spell
and Birmingham's half-way to hell
New Orleans in September
sounds pretty good

Woof and me
living free
no cares to carry on our backs
singing clickety-clack, clickety-clack.

r ~ 8/13/14

Fingers have eyes—
To touch as a painter touches
After he has painted, I see you
As a blind man sees the sun
With skin that reaches
Into the lighted air,
My kisses sparkle out—
Take flights in the long flashes,
The startled flocks of white birds,
My fingers have sleepy eyes
Longing to know you, to be
On the clean, blue, mystic slates
Of the rapt and printed skies,
The stars with their eyes,
Blinking in and out in arousal,
How your voice envelopes
Me as I drown in murmur,
How your body unclothes
My soul, dreaming within
Dream.  Where, when,
Do you come from?
Take me  .  .  .

The sun is sane, pure as his light—
Always beaming about certitudes,
Wearing his indigo robe speckled
With old stars— a jewel in the sky.

The earth is but in lone upheavals,
With only friend of desolate moon,
Crowned with bugs, buzzing on fire
And all is madness— under the sun.

Those things these hands have held
gently -textured care-
tactile curiosities
life's measure

A small, blue bird's egg
broken -sadly-
mocking nature's symmetry

Ice
cold -cold-
water making shape

A stone arrow point
sharp still -old-
black as death

My mother's hand
warm -caring-
now long gone

A small dog
wiggling -happy-
nipping, licking fingers

A woman
smooth -soft-
curving heat

My son
my son, my son -my son-
now grown, love unmeasurable

A coin
gold -only-
worth little

Those things these hands have held
measured -treasured-
memorized
lifelines.

r ~ 8/12/14

She sews..her needle hot
Stitching her words
Into my thoughts

Repairing a tear
Here and there

A knot drawn tight
Nimble and quick
Thimble silver
Her verse sharp

A rip in the heart
Stitched in time
To stop the flow

My lips sealed
with silken gold
Threading gently
Into the night.

r ~ 8/21/14

i’ll kick your ***, beat you down, and bring you up just to send you walking on my will
and I’ll never lift a fist
because I’m quick and full of wit, I spit with a venom born to a lyricist
I use to paint the floor with words born from my feet
and then my ******* muscles robbed me
and left me broken at the knees
when the light went dim in my dreams I knew that it was time to bring life to a different me
that found peace in the memories of tights and frills and pink
I found that familiar place, a tree house against a tree scape to escape from a broken place
remembering the way graphite carefully scratched against blank pressed tree
the coincidence that everything in my life would circle around a tree
the dream of a home in the leaves
the escape of a cloud from the different shades of green
the journey through life lines of trunk that hold all the secrets
I don’t want to tell you my thoughts
I want to bring them forth from the trees that silently watched the world unfold
like the spider that hung from the leaves, silently
I’m nothing you want to see
but I’m spinning a web of brilliance, it’s ******* seamless
you ever done something that is so important to you that you can’t explain to anyone
that’s what it is, the importance of my words unspoken, to me, is unbroken
the world is a scary place with a ****** up sense of humor
and we’re all just trying to cope, so don’t forget that
and give me 30 seconds to give you some hope that life is beautiful, coy, and a little sadistic and without you, my life takes to a bit of a *****
and if being sadistic isn’t your bread and butter i invite you to take some lessons in humor
grab my hand and lets walk through this life laughter hand in hand
the yellow brick road, it’s happiness
the journey is the joy, the goal is disappointing
of fake dreams behind a screen
don’t let the 30 seconds of ending rob the lifetime of journeys
this life has never been a roller coaster
unless you're coasting on dreams of fluorescent screens from nine to five,
of traffic jams and planned surprises
this life has never been stuck on tracks
unless you’re into that
let’s derail and explore the thoughts unmoved by curious fingers
blast off to a less supported life
with more room to roam
we’ll call it home and make it somewhere where you’ll want to come

Unclench your grip
Around your own
Being.

Relax your jaw.
Your shoulders,
Your

Breathing. Slow and
Deep. Let life
Inside.

Lean. Sink. Merge.
Nothing needs your
Support;

All is here for yours.
Nothing on Earth isn't
Furniture.

It was a stressless
World. Before
Man.