I feel your composition
rippling beneath my brush
the complexity of your mind
hands softening
around my shadow

how your voice    lingers
on my page captivating
each breath . . .  you flicker
in gaslight as I beckon
you closer - come, I want
to discover you beyond
the palette of words
constructed in my dreams
touch the highlights
of fantasy as you trace
every thought of me

stay, beneath night's cover
promise not to dissolve
in whispering mists of dawn,
my muse, envelop me
in your love's unreality

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.

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

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.

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

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

This weekend, my city was hit by an EF-4 tornado.  I'll never forget the sirens at midnight or holding my kids' hands tightly in a small closet as the news warned to brace for impact in 3 minutes.  There was the unforgettable sound of hail and well over 170mph winds and then, the eerie calm that followed. But mostly, I'll never forget driving the roads before dawn to see enormous trees yanked from the ground by the roots, limbs snarled around power lines, and roof flashing and furniture littering the ground. The devastation took only 22 seconds, but its ferocity didn't shut down the resolve of our people.  I am reminded that hardship and tragedies teach us gratitude, inner strength, and generosity.  I am reminded that people are inherently compassionate and selfless as we help each other rebuild. ❤️

words flutter as fireflies
flicking the glass
anxious, incessant,
nagging my sleep
berating decisions,
lamenting shortcomings,
tapping upon every insecurity
until they are spoken, liberated
from the heart's sarcophagus
I watch them fumbling through air
spiraling madly, luminescent
in their liberty, twirling
upon night's velvet cape
then dissipating into the ether
of forgotten memory
as thoughts expire
and settle into the fragrant satin
of freshly stained dreams

caught within the rain,
      i taste its gentle texture
as tears upon porcelain cheeks
such an intimate exchange
                    i can scarcely breathe
or audibly express
sensual aromas
through words' simplicity

I have spent a lifetime
in silences. [unspoken]
traumas committed
   against my tongue;
  for years,    
            I heaved snow against
my chest
       cultivated forbidden
territories so frightfully
                   polar, i can no longer . . .
handle their sharp-shapes
without the ecstasy
     of frostbite

through winter's moonlit veil,
i sense     your heat,
a telepathy of tenderness, hands coaxing
me from murky waters;
                                            come for me
            your prodigal soul-  
reborn
    rekindle these heated
passions,
          unclasp my mind,
unfasten the sash
restraining these chapped lips,
          thaw each
finger within
your eyes'   firelight,

let me feast
upon your mellow night,
clothed in laughter,
        wounds exposed
as damp rose petals,
            pull me toward
your heart's
shelter, so this loneliness
    may find
                      (at long last)
a nested branch of rest
within the wingspan
  of your nocturnal song

older beginnings,
newer endings
airbrushing
our former selves
reconfigured shadows
painted in our likeness,
perverse substitutes
for who we once were
inside

with each subtle layering,
we forge expectations
of unreality
patterning behavior
to society's desires,
but what of the integrity
that underlies
the gross insincerity

do we fabricate
perpetual lies
to belie ourselves
and so assume  
the carnivalesque expression,
the idealized deception
of what we classify
as real
or do we rupture
the glass mosaic
recapture the marred
face beneath, the beauty
behind
our beast

these thoughts are to you
for your soul's absorption
not mass consumed
read, discarded, reproduced
for when we share,
the nexus of eyes and thoughts
carry a spiritual dialogue
you wander the footprints
where my words have tread
feel their snow laden leaves
stare into the sky's heaviness
vortex of unexpressed ideas
we've yet to translate
hold my winter to your breast
until these words warm
kindling for midnight fires
where sparks dance
in lyrical heresy forming
memory for our minds

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.

I first sought the companionship of words
to dream love into shapes I could touch.
The world had become distorted and distant; writing resurrected a need to feel, to chip away at callouses, embrace my soft again. Poetry felt forbidden, decadent, enticing- a trove of pleasurable pain.  Words wrapped around rhythmic  lines framing stories where my wanderlust could journey: beyond the broken fence of normalcy, past the lamppost, to utter obscurity.  

Now, I sleep beneath the exposure of stars, writing the dark, unsettled histories within, territories where only my fingers can navigate their distance. Out in this unknown, I forget my name. I am the faceless gravedigger of my soul, scavenger of lost relics, beachcomber in love with the sea's unbridled fury.

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

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?

If we can restore vibrancy to color
stripping layers of time
to render art new
then can we lift sound particles
from memories
laid down decades before
dab a pen over words
slandering our hearts
eliminate critical noises
that chastise
til all we recognize
is a blank slate of static
where WE select
rhythm and pace     
            
compliments      feeding our lives' diorama  

                 beliefs              entangled    
                                    between      
                                              heartbeats

we become the artist
         the symphony playing remastered tunes

Stay Strong    
                                  You are Valuable
And, most importantly,

           You Deserve to be Loved

a new semester
filled with uncertainty
for teachers . . .
more anticipation of the unknown
fear for our colleagues,
our students-
and yet,
I can't imagine a career
I'd rather risk my life for
than for the smiles of students
our crazy, harmonious connections  
I can't fathom being
any other than what I am
one who loves and supports
our future
when I rest my mind on this affection,
all the rest dies away
for all at once
I smile, again, meeting
a new family, collaboration
filled with possibility
together, we are reborn
again
and fear falls away
we are students and teacher
engaged in the beauty
of a journey
an exchange, even CoVid
can't deny

it was an era of candlelit dreams
     we played my piano
     harmonizing the evening's laughter
     transfixed by starlight
     and peppered with too much youth
     to catch the fallen minutes
     drifting as snowflakes
     between our words

        its remnants still leave a taste
        of Parisian nights on the rim
        of my glass - how you toasted
        every hour as the sun bled into
        the Seine and our blush faded
        to overcast with upturned lapels
        and footsteps receding into nightfall

chiding words
seize my heart
your blade forged deep
within my breast
tainted by wrath
my droplets stain pathways
toward turbulent seas
let the crimson
run
set my voice
free
reunite beauty
from pain's mystique
drain memories
steeped in mistrust
I will not entice anger
disenchant this hope
alienate my spirit
send this poetry,
sweetest love

your words cultivate my body
          into a vast garden
tended by an avid gardener's care
       seasoned hands bedeck my fields
in hyacinths, lilies, and daffodils  

        my eyes and cheeks arrayed
in swathes of color
                   a canvas path splayed
with your artistry

       through fingers you *****
                  a hanging bridge dangling
from my *******
      serpentining through hosts of trees
            atop a rushing ravine      
such dramatic whimsy
                 suspends my breath

      how your natural hands express
  my bounty in
               each blossom's fragrance
through fluttering leaves
        your lips possess  a heightened understanding    
              of what a place love can be

you carve into
                  my hip
                               a Chinese
                                                  bridge
             the crescent
                                arch    
                                          reflected

in the water's counter image
               to form our moon's fullness
         these ripened sensations
cast dew upon
my lashes and lips
          damp from night's thickening air

you are the conductor
               of my blooming season,
        whose orchestral timing
arouses from my flesh
     speckled      
          foxgloves
and contoured tulips
                              

  such musical themes erupt in me
        through your color's symphony
and when light
   descends we form
          a lover's nest
swaddled in trees

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-

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

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.

listening to the riff
within winter's rain
straining overture
for evening's pain
scuttling rhythms
strummed into melody
feeding feelings
to pleading words
recorded, undistorted
with smoke-stained hands

glass tube glides
against weary strings
exhuming faint-hued memories,
bled from moon drenched rivers
molasses eyes trapped
in cobalt melancholy
    play this heartache,
         (it won't take long)
     take this heartbreak,
         (it won't stay strong)
  till rolling thunder
            floods song with sleep

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

When critics roar
parceling out every error,
weakness, & poor decision
keep breathing,
           count,
meditate;
wander out
& watch the sunrise,
study Her wonder as light curls
from pale rose
to a ravishing blush;
pull kindness
from your pocket,
drop its gilded edge
into others' palms,
smile at glimpses of promise,
allow tears, too, to come
for feeling is the opposite
of a walking death;
don't retreat
from today's pain;
a blistered heart stings
& you may suffer
for a while,
but the beauty of hurt
is that it also heals-
given time

come lay beside me
let my fingers caress your sorrows
working through deep creases
releasing all stress your breath carries
massaging tense shoulders
and unspoken hurt buried in your chest
pulling pain from silent reservoirs
of former loneliness

I am here with you now
there is no sadness
my laying of hands can't resolve
in love there is only purity
a bliss found in eternal connection
let me tenderly kiss
all that delays your thoughts
from slumber

together, we
conquer fear as my fingers
work the tendons
making them pliable again
cupping hands to your heart
feeding you warmth and beauty
to quell midnight aches

come to me, whisper
your concerns
you never need carry
them alone again
for love conquers doubts
sending a tsunami
of tenderness
wave upon wave
to flood your soul
for  in love
we are made whole

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.

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.

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.

"Get immersed in your writing process until the world is gone."         -Stephen King

Writing starts out as an unforgiving act with a rude listener whose back is perpetually turned.  You feel his disinterest as your unconfined mind spews ideas into warped silence, trying to capture airy words still wet with flighted feeling, to strip them down, distort them into a surreal collage of unrehearsed meaning.  

It's a crusade against the self, really, where you push reality beyond the scope of eyes or ears until only your heart is listening.  Then, and only then, do the words materialize in your head, rapidly filling the mind's empty stadium. You become the spectator, the speaker, and the space. Poetic lines are the paste as ideas collaborate; you learn to stand in the cyclone, feeling a poem's tremendous energy, permitting the words to dictate their own dignity.  

They rush faster and faster as you press their loops and curves to the parchment witnessing their enchantment, the dizzying display of language tumbling under and over and through until you are left exhilarated, breathless, and undefeated again . . .
    that is until tomorrow comes.

honesty comes from peeling back
the veneer of who you thought to see
(the self in me they'll find pleasing)
for the dirt floor essence of my reality

I am no longer Spring's scented bloom
of night jasmine or periwinkle
the smile lines crease my face
and there's an arc to my laughter
that wasn't there 10 years before

when I listen to you, I see
both what you wish to say
as well as what your thoughts imply
and, sometimes, (well, more often
than I'd care to admit),
I pour a glass to numb
the aching world collecting
between my toes,
leaving callouses
on my heart

yes, I'm good at posing smiles
to silence the creaking floorboards
that gnaw me awake inside
but tonight,
here's a toast to
authentic reflections,
bleary eyed
with streaks of silver hair
luxuriously lining
the sheen of youth's ebony

here's to patience
and forgiveness
and an unrelenting
taste for love

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

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

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

write your soul's depths
belief in truth's concepts
for you elicit a precious voice
resonant to raw strength
instinctive courage
press forward through unclear days
in the gloom of unknowing
you reconcile love with hate
propagating belief beyond
sight or sound
where speech is sacred
as dying breath
make haste - your echoes
reside within blistering canyons
for others' hope to hear

We may not know yet
the contours of our hands
or the way our lips come together
to create a chapel of divinity,
but we know the textures
of our laughter, how our thoughts
harmonize, how it feels to breathe
each other's sensitivities.

You may not have felt them
with your eyes, but your heart
has caressed my scars and soothed
their tinted stains until the hurt
beneath their puckered skin dissolves
as two lovers confess freely, express
in a liquid aura of unconditional love
without pride or vanity.

today, amidst sharp winds,
compelling backward steps,
            press forward,   silently
for gossip cannot induce
loose words without
breath's harvest
& anger will not quake without
a mind's ill design    
therefore let air disperse,
mingled in the fragrant
stillness of unbridled peace

I feel your eyes emblazoned as stars
stitched into a river of ebony
your hands, how they extend from heaven
wading across our distance
tasting of cedar and salt to my mind
of every dream I've yet to realize

I squeeze the rind of you
from coastal sunsets
drinking your essence as blood red pulp
you sing within the cicadas' song
as I wander through tufted sea oats
searching, longingly, for your voice

the whimsical splash
of your laughter is a brilliant fusion
of lemon, fuchsia, and tangerine zinnias
framing my cottage pathway
you become the smile
of every face I encounter,  
the tickling glimmer of sunlight
between scrolls of Spanish moss
dripping like lace from my heart

you are wisteria and wine
late summer afternoons spent
in naked conversation
I want to be drunk on you today,
tomorrow, every day
we're promised tucked
beneath your chin,
slumbering to the sound
of your cool rain
coating oak leaves

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

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

When I awoke to catch
the ocean at sunrise,
I spied the moon
still out beyond curfew        
tiptoeing in sleek oleander,
glistening outside
the landscape of dreams.

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

I wait alone
wrapped in paper
shivering amidst cold
the door pressed hard
against my chest

this time a year ago
I met a similar fate
the verdict returned
       cancer
a word my mind
has deconstructed
reconstructed
discarded
as my past

tears erupt behind
my eyes
how can I afford
to fight again
at what cost
and during
a pandemic

the door **** twists
as she emerges
eyes averted
my throat scored
in pain
"It's benign,
come back
6 months from now"

unable to move
I peer through haze
minutes tease silence
then with
trembling fingers
I dial his number
Aiden answers
    "Mom, you okay?"
nodding tearfully
with newfound certainty
I finally whisper, "Yes!"

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

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