Category Archives: poem

I can’t but I can

I can’t tell you where to find your peace of mind

or to hear the voice of the Universe coursing with power

or to notice the song of the world’s orchestra as it plays

or even to taste the brisk of sharpened words.

I can’t show you the color of your balanced spirit

or tell you the tale of your sacred birth

or cherish the moment of truth you witnessed

or embrace the love you so rightfully deserve

I can’t marry you to your passion for life

or point you in the direction most profound

or take away anything you’ve learned

or dictate your growth rate in any form

Loving you Always

Loving you Always

What I can do is:

hug you

reassure you

encourage you

believe in you

support you

hear you

see you

love you

Dark Moon Reflections

Night time is a go

Night time is a go

The midnight air is clamorous as crinkling cellophane.
The cranky crickets tick-tock in the grass with leggy chants.
The zz-zzt of the cicadas clamor boldly in jumbling rants.
The nearby expressway donates the rumble of trucks in lanes
trumpeting progress of deliveries unmet.
A flash of light shifts the shadows in the next room
as a car passes like a shooting star at the crossroad.
I open the door to feel the whispering kisses of the cooling air,
opened the windows to let in the songs of what’s out there.
The scent-dripping lilies stain the night

with mortuary perfume visited too often eons ago.

The click-clack of puppy toes traipsing laminate floor in the tone of wood
reinvent the solo of a long-hauler’s jake-brake slowing progress’ brood.
Barely audible, the neighbor’s open windows
bail laughter out in rapid chortles blended with giggles.
I smile as the humidity of their family
adds to the breath of life I’m inhaling with my senses.

Serenade of the trees

Wedgewood Park Afternoon

Wedgewood Park Afternoon

Through all my youth I didn’t learn the language of the trees

I couldn’t hear the words to the poetic songs they would sing for me

When I became still enough to listen to the music of the earth

I learned of transformation, regeneration, and rebirth.

What I didn’t know, while true to my childish indiscretions,

were the many truths I’d learned from them, the many rough hewn lessons.

My roots ran deeply through rocky soil, building bridges of emotional gaps

My branches raised up high with deep green leaves fed by spirit’s sap

I was taught the ancient tongues of the oak, elm, maple, birch,

embraced in laughing drumming beats the circumference of my worth

I am a child of the forests, although youth I can no longer claim

I will honor my tree kin’s body; their face; until the earth embraces me again.

The White Way

Lemon sour with bitter bite

Promises we’re safe tonight

Underestimated loss

Overlooking violent cost

All stop signs exploded

Brother’s blood denoted

Sister’s cries devoted

Patient’s quickly bloated

The poor brown villified

The rich white justified

Lady Justice turns blind eye

Media oversimplifies

that lemon sour with vomit bite

will keep their promises tonight.

The trumpeting herald

Trumpet Swan

Trumpet Swan

I drew my face of happiness upon my colored mask

I hobbled down two decades of steps that led into my past

I touched the ground at mother’s knee with my wings reborn

Straight from devil’s flaming pit stabbed forward by his horns

But I arrived with soul intact despite the battle fought

For I was embraced in cherished state, learning as I taught

With patient hands on comforting arms, I heralded the news

There are always both sides of the story that always comes in twos.

The fading mask falls to the floor in porcelain jags and breaks

To see my own reflected back challenging age old fates

Have I truly conquered the demons that once hunted me down?

Have I earned my place once again in this familiar alien town?

What will be the price I’ll pay for rebuilding from my past?

Will it be worth rejecting anything that ain’t kick-ass?

I know who I am now but I’m curious to see

if the world to where I physically birthed, is ready to meet the real me.

The leak

I’m leaking proof of a former life onto the new lawn.

I followed the hose all the way back to the beginning

but I can’t find the place I need to repair yet.

If you hand me a tissue, please, I’ll dab the melancholies

with a brush of orange tint a ballerina’s blush

I knew the sacrifice made will be larger than I expected

but the gifts and blessings I’ve become familiar with grow

They’ve landed on healthier soil, soaked in similar whiskey

aging better than most I’ve known but the hose is leaking

I just pray it doesn’t kill the grass.

Where am I?

The weeping Southern skies can’t promise to choke me humidly.

The rising stars refrain from performing to crickets and frogs.

Abandoned is the sinkhole of basal intent to protect!

I lay unfamiliar in a bunk bed I don’t own; reeling

I am packed tight in the blankets like my luggage.

The air (thank you Kay) is different here; archived scents

I watch walls blooming colors warm with sunset, not Volunteers

My breath keeps coming but I’m still holding it,

The weeping angels of Southern skies wave; I love them

I blow a “kiss my ass” back at those who stole illicitly from me

But that’s barely a toot of air forgotten after a pizza bird

The process will digest as slowly as Mayfield milk gravy.

The Storm on “W”

Night time storms, hold the orange

Night time storms, hold the orange

The orange halo of the street lamp stands sentinel against the imposing shadows, ozone aromatizes the night.

The edges are fuzzy with skittering raindrops that become blurry with animated protests from jitterbugging leaves.

The paparazzi lightning flares vivid purple/white/lavender rapidly with undulating rolls of thunderous applause.

The gray asphalt steams refused moisture like a lover refusing to be lit afire with passion, darkened by gravity.

A gust of harsh wind bullies a weak branch with a vicious shove downward. Lightning showcases, thunder tattles.

The depression in the parking lot pools a pond where frogs take solace from the forest. They croak there.

The white noise lullaby on the tin roof begs to be only heard through drifts of deepening sleep which I can’t grant.

The wee hours tick-tock-tick-tock, the clock strikes 13, 4, 9, 11 but it doesn’t matter, I dream sleep away.

Self Sacrifice

Feathers

Feathers

When you came to me, you were more than a dozen.

Everything about you was something it wasn’t

I bent my fingers to shape your hands

I reconfigured my halo to destroy the badlands

I stripped the feathers from my wings that flew

I fashioned them to show you the skies of blue

I made horrifying textures smooth for you to build

I wrapped your intimidated heart against the freezing chill

I comforted primal screams from your terror filled nights

I kissed your cheeks lovingly while you fought the fight

I defended your body, your mind, and your spirit

I gave you safe haven, wouldn’t allow bandits near it.

I guarded you with a Battle Queen’s power

but (SNAP!)

like that

you snaked away in the witching hour

while the bells of winds change rang in the bower

to return to the dark from which you came

afraid of the light that I showed you again and again.

I release you back to your puzzled up mess

It is with deepest sorrow, I lay you to rest

I shutter my windows, lock up my doors

mourn who I knew you could be; but won’t be I’m sure

until you know your own value, nay, worth

my heart no longer yours, your memory dispersed.

Stardust and Oceans

I held your hand while stroking your cheek

Whispering to you the depth of my hearts belief

You stared blank at the ceiling but I knew you still there

When the winds stirred the curtains to brush at my hair

With rattled breath you returned to the ocean

Waving goodbye with the power of rawest emotion

Your sweet and gentle passing has erased your pain

But in doing so has increased mine, bring on the rains

Silent your breast, cooling of skin, I sat next to you so very alone.

It was a sacred privilege, an honor, to walk your stardust spirit home.