In anticipation of the too-few precious hours in tandem, we divulged our carnal cravings at each others’ hands, but omitted fragments, saving them for some other day, finding them too truthful.

When you hold your body to mine, as you have told me you will, I want a flurry of colored breath, peach and magentas and crimsons slipping translucently from every part of me and wafting in and out and between us like a graceful fog, and not just the force of fingers that have waited too long to touch, but the electrostatic brushes of life’s restlessness falling slowly into their own gravity as we learn to trust the moment.

Our lips are full of nerves and that is why a kiss is so much more than symbolic. I placed my lips to the skin of an orange and I was met with the sensuality of the whole terrain of this world. Intimacy then, is the slow press that reassures humanity – the invitation into a world with no walls – the rush of blood that comes from being completely receptive – that is the kiss I want with your soul.

After all the epochs of lovers, these are all the same words, but they are lanterns bouncing across the plains and sparking anew in the way that the naive are always entranced by the lighter in their hand when they first learn how to light a cigarette, elated and dizzy from the *****. Twinkling.

Sometimes all it takes is a breath and I am light and wind and red paper confetti and the moon and a golden orb that turns all it touches into a shining constancy of what’s called love – and I visit your heart knowing that you can’t tell it’s me, and then I must leave– and I know that I was not in my body, but that it must have kept existing while I was gone because I always wake up in tears, and someone had to cry them.

Conventionality dies between us and there are no titles or promises to speak of. I once found security in labels, only to find that they leave no room for the inevitable growth and weathering of time. So I ask little of you – only that you are always true with me, and that you occasionally put your hand in mine.

Up ahead past frozen trees,
lies a timeless crystal valley,
while some still stand unfrozen here,
in rows of wooden alley,

I step in past behemoth guards,
who protect a prism palace,
as cleanest waters pure and clear,
rush down on earthly ballast,
a chance to sip of sacred wine,
inside a holy chalice,

Roots run deepest in this spot,
away from light,
below,
while tallest branches touch the sky,
all blanketed insnow,
as orchestra's of crystal chimes,
prepare another show,

When one should gaze upon it,
this ancient wooded sight,
as steam is rising steadily,
as daylight moves to night,
night draws down it's curtain,
as stars now shine a lovely light,

Your breath is taken with it,
& frozen there in time,
as daylight changes scenery,
angelic voices chime,
when telling of the beauty here,
I'd say this place sublime,

A wooded lucent heaven,
it's hard to put in words,
I close my eyes to dream again,
and listen to the birds,
and for every other lovely sound,
I hope my ears have heard,

My breath & I,
just cannot linger,
in beauty's frozen place,
where every branch is laden white,
on gaurded trees of ancient grace,
where all adorned with icicles,
& brilliant snowy patterned lace,

The atmosphere is full of vapor,
as the dew point has been hit,
condensing incandescent tears,
low flying clouds now sit,
so near the ground in steamy fog,
translucently still lit,

It captivates my every sense,
as frozen gates unlock,
I do my best to look away,
though all I do is gawk,
I peer inside to check the time,
...if any on the clock,

Sadly here,
not time for me,
inside this sleepy glen,
where birds & death,
they wait assured,
a thorny crown,
in safest den,
boreal a chickadee,
the livest a tiny wren,

Perhaps to come another day,
I stay inside past frozen gates,
I cannot know the how and when,
my thread of life is cut by Fates,
the three Keres I see in there,
it seems I can't manipulate,

I do not know the way to here,
amidst the wafting fog,
when all again will seem anew,
in Spring & newborn frog,
where lovely woodland creatures,
come out from mossy log,

I so wish I could stay here too,
where now the only sound,
is one of snowflakes softly falling,
upon this hallowed ground,
I do not know where I am going,
or where I'm finally bound,

Though I will try again in Spring,
to see my way back here,
I came here with a fear of death,
but left inside that fear,
as little Winter fairies whisper,
of hope into my ear,

I am grateful for today,
with new hope for tomorrow,
I'm walking out of here tonight,
relieved of all my earthly sorrow,
I walk ahead,
now unconcerned,
if no more time...
at all to borrow.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

It was a green time:
a rose tree time.
Oregon spring budded children and
washed away five year goals and strategic plans.
The summer was scented with blackberry blossoms,
growing wild and thorny and sour and sweet;
They tasted of timelessness
and the utter lassitude of youth.
How charming it was to be charmed
by the low music of the chimes on the
beams of the back porch;
wine in hand, children on the lawn, blossom floating
like fairy tales on the air.

Time like a fish turning in the river
Quick smooth glint on the green water
Sun bulb flashes, then gone with a flicker.
Youth is a lot like that
Don’t blink or someone will die.

The world seems medicated today
susurrus of tires on wet pavement
while nicotine swirls like mist on graves.
The desert air collides with my memories
sharp and acrid, it ***** the water from my skin
leaving wrinkles and age like a kiss.

The past beckons
its hands are dark and translucently cold.
The blackberries are frozen in mounds of snow.
They won’t grow again.

Tires rolling on the road
Windows down, feel the flow
Just kick back and take it slow
Returning to the simplistic

Hands now gliding on the breeze
Rising and diving with ease
Like a dolphin through the sea
Back to simplistic

Anywhere that breeze blows
I will also dare to go
Anywhere that breeze blows
I wanna kiss it!
I don't want to miss it!

Cause' I wanna vibe with the divine
Have my marrow and essence entwined
Into substance translucently sublime
Back to simplistic

Anywhere that breeze blows
I will also dare to go
Anywhere that breeze blows
I wanna kiss it!
I don't want to miss it!

Cause' I wanna vibe with the divine
Have my marrow and essence entwined
Into substance translucently sublime
Back to simplistic

shed that shell
translucently
lacquered
by childhood

that insect
fluttering  behind
the ivory
bars of your ribcage
was once buried
under funerary mosses
of a fallen oak tree
three hundred years
of aged silence
basking in it's demise
saying
"I stretched
to the heavens
but they scurried away
every night  of every day"

Translucent girl
Translucent me
Translucent world
Translucent sea

Such avail
A translucent sought
For hidden pain
Pretended no more
A babe brought by waves
Could so be judged
Misery mistaken
Horribly taken

Translucent blasphemy
Translucent pride
Translucent tragedy
Translucent snide

When they turned,
Peaked a quick one
Drumming their feet
None could speak
For what three beheld
Translucently
A sight to see

Translucent pill
Translucent sheep
Translucent will
Translucent weep

Honeydew eyelids
Empty gaze a siege
You whisper
Am I real
Then go and gone you went

Translucent glory
Translucent faith
Translucent worry
Translucent escape

Invisible enemy
Transparent therapy
Accordion of luminous
Power indeed

Translucent demise
Translucent sworn
Translucent despise
Translucent reborn

I deem you no one brightly
Profusely

You worry me.

Your eyes dilate
as though an extra sorrow
enters them.

What is their colour?

You have told me
but the quirks of memory
forewarn the image
of my search
until a resurrection
seems impossible.

Perhaps I’m colour-blind.

Today I caught a conker
falling from a chestnut tree.
It dovetailed to my hand
and lay quite still –
a little stained but perfectly intact.

The surface shone translucently:
a brilliant, brown-red gloss.

Perhaps you’ll disbelieve me
but I thought : this colour’s like Anne’s eyes.

A little later wings of blue
persuaded me to change my mind
and then a blade of grass began a long interrogation.

Shyly and involuntarily your eyes appear
like music fading to a silent close.

from "Poems People Liked (2)"

Unlike the feted Ebenezer, our intangible visitors
Are not necessarily seasonal in nature,
Nor do they waft into scene
As the result of our direct malfeasance
(Sometimes the case, to be sure,
But more likely they are the stepchildren
Of our omissions rather than our commissions)
Coming among us not through wanton transgressions,
But the upshot of our mortality
And its associated failings,
And as they glide translucently among us
In this season where the darkness comes so early
(Yet the light clutching the western horizon
For an imperceptibly longer time each day)
Their presence may be somewhat more benign
If we are able to undertake the act
Of forgiving ourselves.

(Under the beautiful star the right path will be illuminated)

Translucently straightforward, it’s all beyond explanation,
Always golden… nourishing on the deliciousness of “now.”

! stir under a blanket o’ morn
while the unraveling of a dream
signals my arms t’pull back
the rumpled fabric of sleep that covers me.
! conspire for so much more…

... An image of the truth whispers

Lopsided grace,
and jus’ trying t’stay human
makes my frayed angel hair
a tangled mess

By "ooznozz"