she*  lives  in  the  air,  the  foot  and  wheel-­driven  earth
her  beauty  in  the  breath  over  ­seas,  hurricanes,  tornadoes
the  boiling  hearth  in  rocky  mountains
her  mental  toil  all  over  the  earth's  soil­
in  words

she  is  a  writer,  her  soul  goes­  everywhere
where  she  has  written*
her  imagination  travels  with  you  everywhere
once  she  falls  in  love  with  you
you  will  never  die

she  is  a  writer
crickets  and  stars,  beetles  and  sun
her  wor­ds  of  love  have  spun
its  web  around  you
you  will  never  be  free  from  her  presence
­her  words  are  everywhere
this  is  she,  the  ­writer.

dropped  on  trees  of  paper
spilled  in  rivers  of  tears
exhaled  in  a  hungry  yet  appetite-free  breath­
as  her  fingers  bleed  that  heart  felt  emoti­on
on  the  next  note
she'll  be  a  fine  line ­ between  ******  and  memory
a  literal  pint  of  dopamine
she  might  one  day  only  be  a  memory

her  starry  starry  dream  for  ears  out  ther­e -
stepping  foot  marks  on  the  hearts  of  many­  around  the  world -
being  omnipresent  in  literature
to  all  who  need  a  pint  of  literature  do­pamine.

© Nelize 2016

your flag is unfurled
new order in the world
free from constraint
an uneasy sense
of permanence
bliss for the mind
glory
triumph
and now it is time
assume ownership
of your birth rite
what belongs to you
what is rightfully
yours

An unfenced field
of memories awoken ,
frozen pastel flowers
color fast ,
though fading
on borrowed time

A one-way footpath
disappears unencumbered
between the snowdrifts
leading across
the winter stilled
iced up creek bed ,
coursing a path
of least resistance
destiny unknown

Changing tawny petals
scatter like potpourri ,
fallen collateral
in the aftermath
a beautiful dream's
passing light

Pressed and dried
memories buried
under dog-eared  
tear-stained pages
black topiaries
that grow in the dark

Redemption unbid
and unwelcome,
earthen mineral rights
surrendered unspent ,

Natural order
decomposing
reclamation ,
chilled to the marrow

A scorned lover’s
bated breathe
bared ink unspoken,

Unbidden laments
eerily betokened
in an unseen
netherworld ,
undeniable ,  yet
bashfully remarkable

I see the frosty
fogged breath
that repents
in choral dialect ,   
speaking in known
tongue , with
the absolvable voice
of a bitter cold wind


*wind is the wind .... December 20. 2016