my thoughts
   are    h e m o r r h a g i n g
so much         slippery

                       feeling
               betrays my silence- steeped in murky isolation,

                                   I cannot . . .
tear
                         sufficient
    strips of paper
                 with syllables
            to quell this wailing wall erected around my heart  
            I kneel

before
      an altar              

      recollecting      
                                      ­­   reconciling
  beliefs
        that might coagulate
and
         so preserve [stained faith]

I whisper  a solitary

         word    
                 BELIEVE
    
    feeling its enchanted ripples

sifting between stiffened fingers

      holy water to disillusioned lips

speak for me
        these splintered lines
align
again to         lyrically arrange

              my dissonant song

A student stayed online today
  to ask an earnest question:

               "Will this pandemic have a lasting
                 impact upon society, or will it, too,
                 be forgotten like the Spanish Flu?"

I hadn't thought of a reply just then;
instead, I stared through the screen
and spoke from my heart.

"I think everyone in school right now
will be fundamentally shaped
by this magnanimous event;
in prior generations, it was world wars
and Vietnam, for me it was 9/11,
but this year's tragedy will become
a fixture in your collective memory."

"My hope is that your generation
will rekindle society's compassion
and generosity,
that you will grow
from these months
of social isolation
to listen more closely,
engage in meaningful conversations
honor older generations,
your schools,
and the value
of a hard day's work."

                            "You mean to be a more kind,      
                             respectful, and responsible  
                             generation," he said smiling.

"Yes, and to show those
older and younger
what it means to be enriched
by hardship,
wise through self reflection,
humbled by uncertainties
and unknowns."

I cherish our
midnight silences
when your eyes
scribe verses
upon my heart;
each memory
settles softly
within daydreams,
each one emits
your irresistible scent,
driving my mind
to sumptuous madness.

I never want to be mere fingers
clutching your back
laced in forgetfulness, lined in pain
I long to be the soft silhouette
you hold close
imagining every night
as I pull you in so deeply
the midnight hunger
that makes you sweat
leaves an ache fluttering
in your heart

when we say goodnight
I want to be your cricket's song
soaking up dusk
and mourning dove
cooing at first light of love

I want to feed your mind,
envelop the need
for your body's sweet surrender
to my perfumed lips
kissing every trace of loneliness
as clouds descend
cloaking our naked skin
in nightfall's whim

you speak of her as light
possessed with amber eyes
dispersing your heart's darkness
but can you also love her night
dwelling behind an artful smile
as the moon dips between clustering trees
casting black velvet shadows
a hush between lips, damp with waiting
can you hold her unsteadiness  
with faith-filled hands
patient and calm until her moonlight
shimmers upon your skin again

Breathe. Accept.  You are not the wrinkles in bedsheets or faded stars you dipped dreams within. You are this face, long and crookedly smiling, accompanied by dark eyes with brows that feel the painful weight of time stitching together aches felt in others.  Your hair threads into strands braided with midnight and a heart  straying toward forgiveness.  Peer through the shadows, the unlined eyes, these pale lips.  There’s faith in those contours, desire behind your hips.

I leave the door open, awaiting you
as I've done many times before.
Channeling your energy, softening my eyes, releasing all control, easing the curtains back,
banishing time for later.

Come to me, slowly, like a lover; nestle in,    
beneath these silences kept taut, hold my hand
to your lips- translate these muted sentiments.

Give this heart, breath.  Burn away uncertainties, bury my mind in beginnings, transported before     this hoary frost that does not feel.  

I want to speak. Tear away self restraint;
let words shiver in pinks and periwinkle dawn.  
       I am, you are.                                                           Entangle in each inhalation, every airy note resounding as a choir, resoundingly full, sainted.  Words captivated in translucent harmony.      
          
           Ecstasy.              

You return, tickling my tongue
in flecks of first snow;  oh, to taste the poetry,
its lush textures - hypnotic and full, swelling, germinating beneath these stilled hands;

I begin to write,
to shave lines from blank pages,
my blade gliding upon ice
while words escalate,
the velocity propelling
each thought, levitating over fields,
liberated from earth, until I feel
transcendent.  Staring into
the sunlight's promise, my heart      
grows green, again.

you tell me I'm beautiful
I reach for doubt
but then your hands
caress gaps where
wounds have collected
kissing each so tenderly
quietly, as though you sense
their sting, yet possess
the salve to help them heal
stay - I promise to believe
in miracles, to hold you beyond
the horizon of tomorrow
only for nights to come
whisper such kindness
that faith uncurls beneath
my heart, gentle seedlings
for a new, delicious spring

while the world sleeps
I write my heart in candlelight
scrolled with stars and indigo
swirled in lamplights
silhouettes of shadows
melted wax
dripping confessions
each fingered note
splayed across piano keys
aching with feeling
this black velvet shroud
draped in beauty upon
my scented thoughts

with an inebriated sense
these words delve deeper
scribing the page with softness
untampered, pure
like fresh, untrodden snow
iridescent beneath the moon
pale, luminous
a curved shape held
upon your waking

lying in bed, I watch
as the sun's fickle light
bleeds translucent gold
between branches, recalling
    your soft warnings  
not to stare      longingly
at sunsets, but,
I've spent a lifetime
being reckless,
falling in love with gilded
rays I could not keep,
going blind from wanting
affection's abundant
return; it seems
  there's no tame remedy
for loving
           with a poet's heart.

You, yes, you are beautiful
God's creation, a work of art
look at your hands,
feel the radiant energy
expressed through them,
lightly caress your face,
allow sensations to return
let light pour through you again
receive, open the pathways
for you are entirely worthy
of incredible love because
you exist and are part
of this universe.  

Breathe in positive vibrations,
absorb all the roseate sunlight,
let its warmth filter through your skin,
feel each strand of hair soaking in love,
bathe your eyes in winter's
pearlescent moon-
you are reborn at dawn.

Wrap your spirit
in the understanding
that you are valuable,
and you possess such gifts
that will support and strengthen
others in their quests.

You, yes, you
have immense power,
cherish and harness its beauty
for greatness, take time to care
for yourself -especially right now-
the world needs spirits such as yours -
spread your warm heart
as a light house upon dark and troubled seas--
call restless souls to your harbors,
relish in the world's goodness,
enchant your life by giving others
peaceful energy and acceptance
for positivity will decimate pain,
fear, and insecurity -
and you are formed of
L O V E.

our palms form steeples
where friendships and family
fed a lean year -
sails align with stars' constancy,
assurances that celestial visions
will chart our course
from inter coastal brine
toward Prussian blue sea-spray
unfiltered sunlight,
blissful afternoons await
beyond today's uncertainty
splayed clouds break, reforming
parceled dreams,
awaken your heart to feel
the healing days outstretched,
this gravitational pull of love

silence scooped into tributaries
navigating thoughts by gondola
we glide beneath her Bridge of Sighs
tasting the acrid breath of lost words
into a palazzo where ideas congregate
exhumed from brackish waters
poems glistening between our oars'  
slippery blades at midnight

your touch carries
a frequency
i crave intensely
internal reservoir
my parched heart consumes
press your hands into mine
understandings painted inside
every breath, encryptions
your fingers convey
feverish dance
moonlit silhouettes
aching dimensions
my chest holds
upon waking
our conversations
without rest

Feed your heart, free your mind, surround your soul with those who are kind.  Channel energy toward positivity; be resolute in caring for yourself and others.  Punch in each day without regret; yet, don't forget to languish in day's end, to celebrate the peeling sunsets that ripen into nightfall.  You are loved, you are beautiful, you are all the dreams stored up in your heart. My love, find your happiness and never let it go.

standing in the eye of your storm
while words are hurled
into my heart once more
I never asked to defend
my right to breathe
when your moods erupt
in jagged shards of tragedy
destroying all the love
we held so beautifully
but I can't fight you any more
no I can't fight the fury of your hurt
It's not about me
this rage you stage
in firestorms whenever  I walk away
It's not about me
when you tell me no one will ever
love you this way again
It's not about
me

Somedays, I long to confess
sensations from my heart
without wearing the day's addiction
to restrictions, permitting unlicensed
syllables to samba indelicately -
without even a blush,
passionate imagery sheds
her workday facade
as I pour her slender physique freely
within the hourglass
of an unrepressed burgundy

i once believed
in the infinite hands of time,
  the metronome beating
as a distant storm front bleeding tears
for others' sorrows,              
      never my own-

now, a crackling pulse, thundering across splitting fields, beckons;
          I fall on brittle knees,
the slash of biting steel
caresses my flesh; the lion's roar
unburdens my soul.

Gravitating to an unfamiliar tempo, thrashing from former convictions, my eyes cast upward
            peering through the womb
of a universe unborn,
           where destiny lay
    still fused between my teeth,
upon the soft palette
of newly christened
        beliefs-

    lightning blisters a design
(once ordained) into rubble
     the misaligned truths-
             of who I am
what purpose my hands preserve;
           where do these
unparalleled seasons lead?

       I resolve
                to follow the heart
toward a liberating chasm
of    
steadfast dreams
       it seems
                 my  journey       begins . .

truth leaks between words
when solitude bends
& cradles the past we are
always a child
within the recesses
of a smile  the sinner
kneeling before the altar
of our saint we are
sands of time adrift
in a storm never recollecting

each caught between
nail beds and wisps of hair
tied in ribbons of distant youth
we are mirrors cracked
& misshapen
seldom self reflecting
for fear that if we silence
the noise too long
we'll be caught
listening to sobs
of rain collecting
in gutters heaving

with resistance
an ever aching
reverberation
who have I become
who have
I
        become?

"Anything you lean into deeply, with love and passion, will bring you to yourself."
                                    - @nohmtema


and what of these loves
and passions, what do
they speak
from our withered lips
when time has molded
us into monoliths baking
beneath a multitude of days;

will we recall the beauty,
the bloodthirsty rivers devoted
in toil of our worship?  
will our mind arc
in recognition of its inception;
will these feeble hands recollect
the efforts painted upon
the earth's cortex?  

will our devotions withstand
time's industrious use -
become memorialized in song,
penciled within leather tomes,
recited upon lips of lovers,
hung upon gallery walls,
or perhaps replicated
in a miracle as slight as
a child's wink?

should these devoted cathedrals
of our hearts' construction
withstand this narrow dimension,
may those who later feed upon
their artistry weld them into hope,
wander their naves and transepts,
sing from choir lofts and cultivate
their own melody of beauty
for eras to come.

Lying in darkness
to silence disruptions,
the chastising voice
of wrinkled missteps;
    in this muted hour
I am no longer parent
to anyone,
      especially myself

I feel each word's
tufted hesitation
(ears pinned behind pages)
as silver slanted angels
flit about, lifting
my heart's metallic lid
      - oh, dance for me!

whisper intimacies,
sachets scented
with confessions,
tucked behind these
insular eyes, between
warm *******
breach the distance
that grows vast within
suppression's art

help me write myself free
         again -
delve into life's energetic
wake,
while tinted dawn stains
morning's curtain

how will others recollect
these petal-shaped tears
shed before my time's
extinguished breath

     but for today's
unfiltered fingers
stroking
each line, sustained
feelings laid bare
as newborn skin
beneath winter's sky

you are cinnamon light
shimmering the burnt cheek
of apple crisp afternoons
penetrating your core, ravishing
in possibility, tranquility  
decide how you'll treat today
spend her preciously, selectively
honor your hands with activities
that replenish hungering thoughts
learn your value in words spoken
in your care for others, and mostly,
the expressions you say
to yourself that cultivate self-love
for you are divinely constructed
configured in silken care
and majestically your own
live this day as an elegantly arrayed
promise, gifted for you to unveil
exhale this new beginning

If a man without arms can dream
bigger than his physical limitations
to become the best archer in the world,
if he can push beyond the frontiers
of all that has been thought possible
for a disabled person,
then why
can't we look beyond
the obstacles hemming us in,
holding us back,
filling our mind's eye
with debilitating fears?  

What would we accomplish
in our lives if we knew
we couldn't fail?  
If every day became
an honest opportunity to grow
and dream and create,
what would we do to fill our days?  

How would it feel to live our lives
unfettered from the voices
that chide us with harsh criticism?
What can we do to silence those
who oppose our dreams?
And why should we
ever again allow
another human being
to shackle or define for us
the best life we choose  to dream?  

When we recognize
that these voices are just
hollow echoes of our own
or others' insecurities,
then we begin to live
authentically,
to delve beneath
the physical depths
into an authentic life
teeming with drive
and determination.

There are riotous dreams
to be tucked beside
our pillow's haven
where your words
whisper
Inside my soul's velveteen
amidst this slumber,
I hear your call
wrinkled smile,
drowsy serenade
captured beneath
my arm's sultry grip

stay a while longer-
the moon's pallor
lingers long upon our silhouette
moonlight confessions
release our tongues to oversleep
where your speech tussles
beneath mine in bedsheets
spun in gilded verse

pen your couplet along my wrist
to coax a charm of unforgotten words
dispelling unkind memories
tell me why you and I
should
why your sigh
suspends
my breath
how reading
your thoughts
makes me
uncoil my hair
slowly
around your waist's sincerity

divulge all that makes you
feel with forbidden passion
as I curl into the contours
of your rest
sleeping beneath your breath
sighing within the circumference
of your arm's expanse
hold me close, dear
extinguish starlight
tempt my heart's glow
to shine for you tonight

Your heart knows the trail
that wanders along my lips
how you journey through
my ruggedness reclaiming
every outpost
as lovable, every seaside
as traversable

you navigate these complexities
weaving them between the fabric
of your hands,
your nomadic soul,
the great explorer to my new lands

you claim these soft sands
bathe from my waters
sleep beneath the flesh
of my stars

there you are - thumbing a ride
with happiness, extracting love
from the sequins that complicate
her heart's design, stitching them
between your eyes so you can peer
beneath her sea's depths
categorizing feelings before
she navigates them for herself

your momentous swelling
hovering inside each breath
tickling the insteps of secrets
stashed behind a cracked staircase
whisperings starched under steadfast lips
that smile to contain you, refrain you
from getting too close
from learning everything
there is to know about
   her love

your hissing  tongue
pierces once again
vile words, berating my worth
only I have learned (at last)
to disentangle my heart
from your snare's belittlement
staring into the unwholesome sky
with muted lips
awaiting tomorrow's painted beauty

she, a placid sea of smiles,
a tincture to soothe his distress
with restorative moonstone eyes
the hue of a frosted moon
in milky highlights

yet tempests corrugate
her shimmering textures
liquid skin trembles
far beneath this sedate surface
a turbulent passion,
a movement of flowing tentacles,
multi-colored sea anemone
brush the sea floor
stirring pebbles in the undertow
as ossified diamonds

his lips tingle at the ripples
released from her long-awaited sigh
he feels each seismic vibration
like a tuning fork held close
to her heart's palpitations
translating their varied tempos

he steps from the shoals
toward her undertows
hand held out to brace
the unsteadiness, then words
break open in sea spray
she hesitates, lingers long,
soaking in his confession
pulling him from the shallows
towards the depths
of her harlequin heart

hold my fingers in yours
    let's inscribe
                                 love letters
  
       within the cloud's  
underbelly
               dimpling heaven
in golden filigree

         and terra-cotta   b l u s h

Standing on the other side panting, swearing, staring at the chasm you've spent years overcoming can be exhilarating.  Whether the obstacle is mental or physical, take a moment to marvel at the  full length of your journey.  Be grateful for the gnashing of teeth, the fears of failure, the constant anxieties and abuses of how "you're just not enough," the impossible goals, the midnight sweats, the gaining of weight, of losing your grip on reality.  When you finally succeed at the task that seemed impossible or insurmountable, allow yourself to exhale fully, close your eyes, permit yourself this moment to heal.  But, never forget the aches and cruel tempests that blew through your timid soul night after night. Never forget the motivating speeches you whispered to smear over the pain and strangle its fitful breath. Remember you are the entire experience-- the daily rituals that sustained you, the summation of all your tears.  You are the lesson learned, the unsinkable heart, the unwavering believer, a humble warrior standing solitary within the ring of Fire.

This year has been a learning curve full of lessons which have tested our patience while reinstilling the importance of friendships, family, and selfless giving. Let today be a celebration for the spirit, for all that we have to be most thankful for. Here's to rediscovering beauty through poetry, to shaping hardship into timeless art, to sending the world tremendous love.  May your today be filled with joy and happiness. 💕

Happy Thanksgiving!!! 🦃

“We think, sometimes, there's not a dragon left. Not one brave knight, not a single princess gliding through secret forests, enchanting deer and butterflies with her smile. So crafty have appearances become that princesses and knights can be hidden from each other, can be hidden from themselves.”                        
                            ­                                                            -Rich­ard Bach (A Bridge Across Forever)
-------------------

We all have the capacity to become a king or queen if we first recognize our own worth.  Seeing and believing ourselves as valuable is the first step; then, we work to refine those skills and beliefs that make us powerful healers or lovers or teachers for others coming along on their great paths toward self-actualization. What if that is life's great purpose?  

-South City Lady

Do poets adopt the art of words
naturally, or is it an act
of desperation, speaking
from subterranean spaces
to exhume our suppressed voices,
to find a silent corridor
where our defiance finds sound?

And if we speak, do others listen,
or is it merely an act of resistance,
this conversation within ourselves?
We awaken as others sleep
stacking words, restoring trust
in the unoccupied zones of us.

By dawn, we smile behind
a scaffold of eyes and nodding hands,
comply with the day's demands
anticipating nightfall

when, once again,

we release them-
the destitute, the vagrants
of our exiled selves,
who take refuge in tent cities
built of verse to weather, together,
the long cold nights ahead.

you tease between
my slender silence,
knowing always the sultry
surrenders your trembling
syllables awaken,
such palpitations
seizing each breath
as tender exhales
patter like soft footprints
across a deserted beach
where paired seagulls fly
amidst daybreak's
purpling storm.

you teeter
on emotional frenzy
each word etched slowly
in sensuous curves
of flickering candlelight

your taper drips
from tempting fingers
burning my heart's inseam
singeing tender skin
in enticing wakes

come closer
beguile my air
with your enchanting lips
flutter my skin
in your heartbreak's hollow
& seduction's cries
tease my ear, hold me near

I want, I crave
your sleek
whisper's verse

to be your shimmering muse
wafting inside dreams
melding within fragrant breath
to feel your poem's potency
blistering my tongue
such intimacy carried
within the vessel of my soul

These words starve
beneath my tongue
held captive under cracked lips
bleeding incessant vowels
I swallow their trembling cries
clenching the folded petals
of love's velvet season until each
descends in elegant teardrops
silence upon damp pavement
leaving a crimson trail
of regrets my narrowed lens
dimmed, streaked
of all love's shine
fingers pricked
by countless thorns
heart blighted
in night's curse

do not write to impress others
while your truths shiver beneath
the heart's surface
with memories inked in sepia tones
your fingers tracing their muted scents
as Braille while eyes kneel in meditation

instead enter your mind with reverence
wander its marbled halls barefoot
feel time's sacred parabola
steering toward winter
your fingers splayed
upon life's frozen glass

push silence open
allow the celestial light
to sink between
cracked teeth
honor your voice
feel its angelic hymn
rising as a melody above
the sylvan landscape
until your thoughts
coalesce as snowfall
blanketing earth's skin
with love

bless the script with your spirit
testament to immortal feeling
words curved into sails
transporting minds beyond
the silhouette of time
towards horizons unborn
where unknown fingers
take up residence in your verse
reawakened, inspired
by your heart's Druid temple
a spiritual Stonehenge
of poetic refuge
stretching its spires beyond
life's finite stare toward
eternal dialogue,
luminous thoughts
endless awakenings

Love will come to you,
not as a mist
wetting your face softly,
but as a tremulous storm
shaking your passions loose,
swaying your thoughts
with ravenous appetites,
flooding every arid place inside
with the intimacy of hands gripped,
eyes enchanted,
words laced in poetry.

each note unrehearsed,
unrecorded, a chance
to breathe the interplay
of music in exchange
for words, violin strings
delicately rearrange
my heart's melody,
such irresistible beauty
to be held in love's downy
blessings abundantly fall
softly, majestically
as midnight snow
feeling every flake
coating these thoughts,
breaking open, alighting,
silver angel frost upon
the undressed earth

lying in bed
the day cradled by darkness
drifting back through wisps
of who I'd been at thirty
baby suckling my *******
workday weary and money starved
yet proud of a life carved out
in fruit trees and a hammock
swaying beneath pines

such a long streaked memory
I crawl upon hands and knees
through the portal to now
recognizing that every blessing,
every tear stained disappointment
all the years of wiping down
studying, providing, enduring
have proffered this moment
an opportunity
       to step beyond
   the mind's confinement

to risk safety for beauty
anxiety for understanding
   to become again
a child of wonder
sculpting her future
in the clay of stars

You-

emit a soul i can barely feel 

standing along the precipice 

of touch and wondrous sensation

billowing through my blouse 

tickling my laughter 

aching inside this want

you-

form in the ripples
that pool 
inside my tears

the mist gathering 
within
each tender thought before
morning makes
light of
their melancholy

you-

gravitate in the creamy wisp 

of dreams my heart takes refuge in 

the lines streaked in fancy 

to suggest rather than convey

you-

reside in the wintry mix
of colors
cast as shimmering glitter
in the snow
the smell of distant embers 

trembling in my homesick memory

you-

dwell within the deepest caverns

of my hunger satiating this desire 

with morsels of stars and sprinklings

of moonlight filtered through
the leaves 
of conversation

you-

an enticement

a Luna moth in flight 

the dew on blades of grass

the sustenance of silvery clouds
You

I sit here feeling
the flesh of the world
heaving with the enormity
   of today's pain
tears are indescribable
watching eyes chiseled
from hardship, lips pressed
into sepulchers of unspoken words

I kneel before an altar
           resurrecting childhood faith
whispering again a scripture
to relinquish this surcingle
         clenching my chest
  we are more
                      than these dark hours
we will rise

         from the bleeding woods
and hurricanes threatening
       security and any semblance
                                                
of peace

we are more than these crises
                      and when the smog
        fades, the tempests   retreat

we will lift our hearts
   use our hands
                and rebuild

humanity again

How do you know the locks to pick, the clasps to open, the words that break such silences -- you forever unshackle my expressions, leaving emotions so unbelievably exposed, naked before your loving eyes.

tasting morning air's divinity
we sample words through
swollen lips made gluttonous
from soaking in each other's eyes
fingers played out over
sumptuous skin, thoughts mingled
in early morning revelry
the aroma of your love
wafting in on tinted feelings,
these tender cordials
we sip upon til dawn

Sitting in the faculty lot
thinking how I'm as nervous
as my students
for our first day of class
going virtual, live every day
with all the lack of control
and all that could go wrong
(and it will)

I sit here
staring out
into the darkness
an impending storm threatens
as thunder urges me to drive
and fat rain splatters my windshield

but then, I begin to smile
because another storm will hit
and tomorrow will be fraught
with incredible mistakes
all except for one
important
piece

THEY WILL be back in my classes  
and, oh, how I've missed them
like a mother
of too many children

I can't wait to hear their laughter
to form connections with each class

I can't wait for school to begin again

you take my hand
as we stroll
together
deep, deep down
a serpentine
path to woods

amidst thick moss
and tree coverings
with fronds
caressing our hips
as we pass
drops of cool rain
cooling our cheeks
streaming rivulets
nourishing lips

where we taste
remote sensations,
a world
dislodged from
society's roots

we are more
than these bodies,
this ancient flesh
we are
interwoven in
a mystical connection,
constellations beading
eternal sky

in a telepathy beyond
eyes and fingers,
a language exceeding
words, until we
converse entirely
through our
hearts' speech.

if I could trim lines
texture words
savor each syllable
perhaps
all the passion that erupts
from my ******* would subside
waves would cease their capsizing
sunsets wouldn't hurt my eyes
with their unmistakable beauty

if I could taste the ink-bed
beforehand would sensations
arouse this page instead of my hips
and mind with midnight lips that kiss
each pondering in unbearable sighs
I want to expel this tempest
in gaslit pages
that burn and burn and  
BURN inside

til your hands clutch
these feelings
enmeshed in ecstasy
the splendorous ache of
wanting craving
love's euphoric madness
so much
that only words
cup your face
graze your lips
spoon your soul