tonight is strange.
you see,
i slept today
at a friend's house.
but now, cannot
sleep.

and when i say "slept"
i mean;
i laid there
in her blankets,
and thought of you.

and when i say
"thought of you"
i mean;
i wondered if
at that moment
you missed me too.

and when i say "wondered"
i mean;
i imagined your lips
against
my eyelids.

and when i say "against"
what i meant to say
was;
that i wished you
were held against
me.

and when i say "held"
i meant;
that i'll take your problems
and shoulder them
as My own.

but dear,
when i said
"problems"
what i meant to say
was that your
ink-stained fingernails
are god-crafted.

and by "ink"
you know
that i mean;
you've forever
left your mark
on me.

and by "mark"
i mean;
that you've drawn
in all the sides of
all the best poems.

and by "drawn"
i offer up;
that this is not
the first or last
time we fire one another
and scald the oceans.

tonight is strange,
indeed.

it's a good thing
You always know
what i'm really
trying to say.

Rains, rains they come
beating on ground
to let it in.
Flying through air
to reach a place
where joining with others
is inevitable.

They come from
greying cloud
that once were white.
They drift with wind
as if each carry a rainbow
waiting to connect to hillsides
so it may shine.

Raindrops come like little tokens
paving the way
to aid flowers ready to drink,
and umbrellas ready to open.

They come in droves
as if little herds
trying to reach a mating place
inside calm waters.

Rains, oh Rains,
a construct of Nature perhaps,
but think again.
With technology
its hard to tell.

Hard, as the Cabal
have their plans,
and are ruthless
with thunderous power
that must be stopped.
Stopped so our own
rainbows in heart can shine.

StarBG © 2017

when I began to write
poetry
all those years ago

I was amazed to find
that I even
had a voice.

It was a gift
that I never
hoped for.

I only shared light.

There is too much
darkness.

And then
little by little
I had to write
about the monsters
in the deep.

And my writing
got to be
unrecognizable.

Those couldn't be
my words.

Don't bury me
in a grave
in a big old box
I've known too much
darkness.

And so here I am
trying to balance
injury
with hope for a new future

That may be called
healing.

Weaknesses and imperfections
Are part of your reflection.
They are vivid to your eyes
As you gaze into the mirror
That mostly tells you lies,
You keep telling yourself
"Someday someone will love me for my flaws"
Is that really what you're looking for?

You are already loved in spite of your errors,
Right from your mother's womb,
You were bestowed with a purpose,
You have the potential to turn
Imperfections into excellence.


It takes the humble and the meek
The scarred and the bruised
Not the perfect to lead.
Don't wait for someone to accept your flaws
But let your flaws push you
To where you want to go
Far beyond the edge of your comfort zone.

Drifting back to the ocean
like it never even happened
unraveled dreams washed clean
crystalline renaissance bestowed    
by wind mountain spring waters
rising from the heart
of mother earth

A remnant light glows deeply
of one love's untamed wonders
an unfastened feather glides abandoned
rushing waters floating
alighting pilgrim blissfully sails on
stranded without wings
a fallen wild feather free as bird
wanting a place to be let free

Sun in the summer air
wind in buoyant feathered hair
softly dancing upon
wild river restless ripples
to feel the love of holding on
adrift asunder whence it touched on
destiny's far-reaching
journey yonder
holding onto flowing rivers
rolling towards the sea

The incoming tidal waters blossom
surge to greet wind river's gentle saunter
converging slackening passage
salt on feral feathered fragments
arousing currents babbling swirl
imbibed by the impassioned sea

Wild rivers' born intentions
a different kind of drifting passage
to kiss the distant horizon
where the sown sunlight settles
submerged in shoreless ocean waters
    to be free all at sea at last


someone you used to know  2017