Category: Poetry

Investment

  Financing a mind with a paradigm; shuffling incessantly past cardboard mementos, digging for that spare cash we’ve got flapping around in the love seat. Who’s to win in this array of dissonance, this projection screen?

Skin Sounds

  Joy arrives soundless in a cool morning breeze; sunrise rattles through oak palm trees, cooing as she goes, swishing through the drooping leaves. Infinite moments heard by skin only.

Gentle

  Collapsing I tucked my head against my chest and listened to my heart beat. Strong it whispered and my ego faltered and I could hear the ego falter— and I, faltering, briefly exposed an open window to torrential rain marooned against a million chairs held up hardly at all. The trick is always to let the rain in and the carpet go.

Calling the Eagle

  What work am I called here for? Me, in fish form, scales silver against an evening sun swimming circles around my coldwater lake calling the Eagle.

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But Surely

  Surely it can’t all be cast to the tan lines. The sun—our cicerone across this celestial plane, casting her silhouettes upon skin shapes etch-a-sketching that which we outfit ourselves with— Surely. That can’t be it. Because I see him

World of Plenty

  At the end of it all rests the trees. Time stands just as requested in the company of pines. My steps are holy circles, hewn deep and echoing; I listen as my ten-thousandfold world system shivers like a wheel barrow child barreling down a grassy slope, arms stowed against chest. Bullets rain dully, as dumb as porcelain and half so strong.

Hawaiian Twilight

  Mustard-patched sweat on skin damp and oily, suddenly licked wide & clear with a salty breeze. The rose blooms tonight. For my part, I shall bear witness; there is nothing quite like the blooming of a rose.

Let There Be Ease

  Mahalo, my love for your blue eyes. For the soul eyes impressed on my own when I rest & let shoulders lie easy. Let all the palm trees be breezy. Let the waves on sand shores crest.

Mountain in Glass

  I am the mountain against the shattered panes of glass; dynamic quests for focus leaving a viewer head-tilted more confused than ever. Dawn mist lit amber saffron, sweeping streaming willowing between fern slopes. Still slopes. As still as possible.

Yin & Yang

  Dance dark against the moonlight shadows; the dust will take you deeper– digging down to shaded levels of acrid denial tasting like dental floss. Dance light upon the meadow tresses; the sunbeam spotlights like braided rope. Fading numbness from the fingers out and suffice to say– the world takes hold.

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The Color of the Sea

  I’ve been told before the color of the sea but the knowledge has never served me. For I plunge my soul dark beneath satin waters & out gushes white-light waterfalls. Candor! I think, that’s the color.

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Sister Patacara on Awakening

  Washing my feet, I notice the water.