To the Budding Flower

(Prefer to hear it read aloud? Click here!)

Just a little taste of spring:

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Hands jerking over rosebuds

Wheeling inside a weightless wind

The slender self would flood

 

Numbers, sunlit fall

Without winding, nor binding no

Not this kiss, for that’s all it is

A kiss and a thunder so

 

The flower smiles today

Before the morrow’s sunless yoke:

The higher they be howling

The sooner sets the stroke

 

And age, it cries out for the coy

For youth knows yet the blood,

and time the wisdom of the sleepless

knows the quiet of life caught in the bud.

Advertisements

Our Corner

A man hangs his hat in that corner

where once we slept together

an ignorant or discontent foreigner

to our dislocated nether.

No one knows what happened

to the images our jury pardoned.

 

It was not always rainy when you came.

There were moments, tucked into our night

we found shelter in our tender shame

knowing neither would ever fight

for all the stories Donne read within

that little corner of our skin.

 

No one forgets—

not even the man, uncapped, in grey

strolling through space time bid offset

frustrated and sweating through the summer decay

praying for the breath that weaves

through the door, but out the window leaves.

Phoenix Flight

Flames of her passing

stream the silence between

breathless twines of human grace,

the air, her plane–the smooth fall

among the flesh,

a look to pin the longing touch,

thirst for the flight they cannot share.

Merely human, cries the hush

of lights along her occupation–

no remedy for the pale drip

her candle set upon the choir.

Night lies in the dismount.

Close at Hand

Where you touched me–silk,
the milk of our desire,
yoked yearning from the ilk:
heart–they called it fire–
the infinity of which might host
ashen fractions of the passion, sired
by a touch, a look unseen by most
unbound by sea or land–
the knowing when I sleep
you breathe beside this silent hand,
and I am no stranger, too far, too deep.

A Haiku Afternoon

Tomorrow, a more fantastical post. Today, a short dose of the poetic:

Rose petals drift

perilous bedside seas–

her breathless touch.

Night gown nonsense–

heat beckons through wood and wind

wild by moonlight.

Note: Don’t forget to check out my guest blog appearance on Jessica Kristie’s “Inspiring Ink” segment today! I may be talking fantastic tomorrow, but today, I’m delving into the imagination…