Once told of words, in worlds, waning with my will.  

Old and trembling,  emanating, the serrated slurs, serenading the sanctum of binary stars, singeing the seams of sleeves, and revealing the scars from afar.

Distant stars born, of the storm.

Whirling waywardly,  in the wizardry of windless cities blowing away,

Wading into the wetland droughts of water houses, unsettling the doubts, anchored on land, in a flood of mans,  love.

Drown

In the shallow nouns of, the haphazardly hallow, in the hollers of happiness, hugged in the hellish habitation of holograms dancing for the sun,

Long after the run, ...   ended,

In the stunned patience, of forever.

Death is in the favor, of moving on.

Not am i gone

yet.

The birds raise a cacophony for food
hovering over the river of summer home
washing off flakes of winter memory
in the duck-warm joy of another renewal
bobbing up and down with the waves
like I hold her in my dancing visions
gazing waywardly her way
gauging if somewhere in the ether
hers meets mine
guessing when they do
sparks of fire
will burn the logs
keeping another winter at bay.

It was more like alabaster, but I could only be sure
of one thing; it was an exquisite lesson in anatomy
cold ancient, pale Roman stone, the arm half gone
strongly curved, the rippling of muscle, hair and bones
a man held by pillar, marble like legs of smoothest stone
his eyes deep set that wended near, then waywardly away
the kind that strangely follow sometimes linger into the next day
broad faced, cheekbones perfectly amid the shadows
and I don't mind saying while on my museum trip
though he was a statue, I thought to kiss
those divinely sculpted lips.

Love I'm told is in the air,

Yet such a thing I cannot see,

Perhaps I'm looking up not down,

Or simply waywardly.

My soul hung upon the rack,
Naked and damp.
Give it a good shake, open my cage,
And drift bitterly into the chilly breeze.

I zip up to the horizon,
The vicious orange glow
Maniacally frying the gentle blue.
I can’t feel my toes.

Waywardly traipsing on the edges of earth;
The dripping ice marks my path.

I promenade through tired crowds,
Whizzing around beaten heads,
Playfully clipping sweaty legs.
Their heated anger tickles my nose.

A hot pink sea lay blushing below.
Glossy white pearls rain gleefully from soft clouds.
They pelt me down to the surface, which smiles back.
My hair glitters like notes on a piano.

The eager pearls tug at my burning skin,
Giggling with me towards the core.
Cough up ice cubs to mark the trail.
My soul is on fire!

her hand will be moonlight
by him: quietly

have we become beautiful
sound? movement of dancers

and fangs of music— birds
stirring elsewhere,

abandoning trees, you
and trilling waywardly across sound, me

all is disquiet in days your lips
have sung honeyed softness

i could hear it like a flower
whose petals are blue

deepening in silence.
her smile will be harlequinade

by him and an adagio of scherzo
by her will make feet trample

the accident of water: pond-strove
of love's bend asks

have we become rivers
leaping in temporal splendors

as when it will never
give sleep its ****** whiteness again

i sing through morning's trek
and we, deeper then rain-washed stone,

will be all but moon and dark,
oh, you, me — unclosed without protest

pressed against the wall
of love's domain.

The lone pebble
Thrown waywardly
Into the pond,
Cascaded,
Rippled in my mind,
Splashed over
Like lines in verse.

Arid deserts.
Burning hot.
Sun beats down.
No town in sight.
Frightened of dying in midday heat.
A long lost traveller.
Family in tow.
Waiting for tomorrows.
That never seem to come.
Beaded sparkles.
Heat on backs.
Forward moving.
Dusty tracks.
Not dusky maidens.
Nor handsome chaps.
Little ones on escapades.
Halcyon days may wait in front.
Hell on earth left far behind.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.
Waywardly wandering.
Scavengers hover overhead.
Waiting to salvage the once walking dead.
(c)LIVVI

Change isn't just spare coins in one’s pocket

It is an energy for a being to grow… to expand.

Words from the mind placed into fluid motion

To direct and mend a heart left in frozen feet on the ladder to an unknown land.

Warmth gained  by one spirit longing for another to keep in energies’ light

Navigating life’s huge waters as we discover newer parts of uncharted oceans.

Waters that connect Human life in Symbiance

Waters that fuel the hunger to charter our vessel

to a new sought after brilliance.

Adding numbers to our flock of us Dolphins that swim

waywardly

with each other…in a unique bond.

We need one another in heart and soul

So let the energy of change  be a light that can never be dimmed…

Forever becoming more than what’s in the “now” or limited in the questions of limitless “Hows.”

The dive into the oceans of the “new”  should be one’s first move

Past fears of the unknown moments ahead

You are never alone

As we swim, here together, in Life’s oceans.

I don't feel better or worse
as I watch you seated
journey bound,
wondering what sort of person you are:
twirling fingers on the mobile
yet waywardly enriched by your eyes.
I shall remember,
looking for human qualities
red hair and black mascara
and high cheek bones to marvel at
in broad daylight.

Lost in the dark of the night
Where the moon shines not
Into a garden of shadows
Where my soul wanders about
Among the cold misty haze
Rest I may yet waywardly linger