Snapshots

A long walk in slow darkness

Night is heavy liquid, honey sweet

Saturated in thoughts of early dew

Toes wet with grassy kisses

Your name was in the raindrops

Spelled out in wet facsimile

Of your smile

Tasted just like heaven

On the tip of my pen

 

“I will give you a poem” he says

Silhouetted by the moon

A silver corona of metaphor

Adjectives tangled in the lines of his body

Paradigm of paradox

Glowing crescent of lunar lips

More than mere stars in midnight eyes

Galaxies coaxed me to tangled mystery

In stellar  glow

 

Paint me with passionate pigments

Fingertips illustrating my curvature

Until my body comes alive with your artistry

Arising from the white linen canvass

Of our tangled sheets

 

Emerald, azure… Amber, grey

I will never see your iris the same color twice

Morning glow finds you mis-matched and beautiful

Harassed from your fuzzy cocoon

By some smiling baby blues and a tiny hand

That slaps you in the face with joyful gusto

Your wordless groan says many things

But mostly it says, I love you

 

 

For Sam

 

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Red

He was slightly overcast
Grey, heavy eyes
Hair like storm clouds
Above his brow
At the bar he sits, hunched
Against his own weather
In the lee of florescent lights
As a moth seeking the moon
He has fluttered to the Juke Box
Recalling youth to old dreams
Bruce Springsteen quietly croons
To his whiskey

Feet sucking at the stool
Like a vine of ivy
Drawing vitality from the din
Of good intentions building bridges
All the way to Hell
Eyes squinting in the glare
Of young love with their bright smiles
More comfortable in the shadow
Of his woe
Jameson is the only one
Who gives him warm kisses

“Want to dance?”
Says Ruby Lips
He smells shampoo and desperation
Slipping from his perch
Like a drunken David
He takes her proffered hand
Around the floor like Autumn leaves
Blown by a wind of song
They twirl and spin in the smokey glare
Scuffed old leather boots
Lightly court the pink sandal straps
Just as two butterflies
In a patch of clover
Flirt with Spring

He buys her a drink
Something sweet
Like the girl she was
When freckles on her nose
And scabs on her knees
Where beautiful
He makes her smile
The way men do
When they are fishing
But when she takes the bait
Leans in for a kiss
He gently removes the hook
Looks off into the empty night
Let’s her swim away in the inky black

He knows he is just a wounded bird
Fallen from the nest
And she, a well-intentioned savior
With a shoe box and an old shirt
Who’s bleeding heart will mourn
When he refuses to dine upon her charms
And starves himself amid a feast
Of “honey how was your day?”
For wild spirits like his own
Cannot be fed with cold dead meat
No matter how loving the hand
That warms it

*Dedicated to Red, who should have gone home with her
Jameson is an Irish whiskey

Haikus For Baby Si

Sweet blue eyes, smiling
Two little pools in sunlight
Deep enough to drown

 

***
My skin maps the years
Scars painted with life’s tough charm
Yours, a blank canvass

 

***
You look at me so
I am Earth, you are the sun
Shining down on me

 

***

 

This small piece of me
A wonder that my two arms
Can carry such weight

 

***

 

What is this new thing?
I wonder what it tastes like
Mommy’s ear: not good

 

***
I have two seconds
Do I pee or write a poem?
Saved by the haiku

 

 

The Oak Man

Sam With Si

What can I say of you my oaken man?

No pretty metaphors

With smiling eyes and a steady hand

Claiming what is yours

 

You do not bend into a poet’s mold

Like a dancer ’round a fire

You pour into it like molten gold

Spelling words of hot desire

 

Trying to rhyme your mismatched eye

With all sorts of trite little prose

The description of you will refuse to lie

In well-ordered rows

 

So strong is the heart that beats your drum

Steady as a Koa tree

If I knew the words I would have sung

Your praise to the azure sea

 

I could say, with inadequacy, that you were my rock

But that would do no justice to you

More like amber, forming slowly when you talk

Into warm, red earth hues

 

A Mozart concerto is serenading the dark

As rain paints a blackened street

On my neck is your breath, as if coaxing the spark

To flames, and wanting heat

 

All the poems I wrote on sleepless nights

Never knowing they were yours

I thank you Love, and I bless you thrice

To be the woman you adore

 

 

 

To Sam

 

 

Bottom Of A Bottle

Image

You never call me when you’re sober

Likely because you’re always drinking

Guzzling down your expensive poison

Into that rut continuously sinking

 

Dancing the dance of unsteady tread

Through city streets and alleyways

Winding a path through an urban jungle

Just passing time and killing days

 

Your soul is just an afterthought

Like putting down the toilet seat

Only noticed briefly here and there

When good impressions require deceit

 

Your conscience is like a mosquito whine

Slapped away when it gets too loud in your ears

Just a hollow echo in the well of you

Future devoured by your fears

 

Bones growing brittle beneath the mask

Of youth and smiles worn like silk

Suits can’t hide what is in your eyes

While you speak the lies as white as milk

 

A wonder they do not curdle in your mouth

They sure leave a sour taste in mine

But you always were the master of self deception

Blissfully ignorant time after time

 

It’s sad to see you broken like this

Like a marionette with tangled strings

But I cannot save you from yourself

When you crave the death your vodka brings

 

So you chase your own tail like a fool

Smoking all those pipe dreams starry-eyed

Imagining that this is just a bump in the road

That you’ll die fat rich and dignified

 

I am crying for you in my secret heart

To see beauty decimated so

All the fires of passion and intellect

Now a meager ember’s glow

 

 

Dearly Departed

 

Time moves around me like a breeze through the keawe, whispering thorny secrets in the voice of a Gecko.

Wildness dances untamed in the darkness between the stars, and all that is known has been written in the sand,

 

Where hungry tides devoured it.

 

Shadows move with liquid heaviness, obscuring the pathways my feet seek to wander.

I need only this light of the fickle moon to guide me, through dangers poking through thin slippers.

 

A salty sea has flavored my lips, lapping at the ocean with a hungry tongue.

Sinuously like a snake, I twine my tread through sandy trails, made by the feet of goats.

 

Only on my pages.

 

Pen travelling boldly where wheels and all their innovations lack four wheel drive.

Gearing down, digging in, waiting for the dawn.

 

 

To Stacy And Charlie

 

 

Compromise

Dark words tremble with cloven hooves
Shadow faces beneath lowered hoods
Pathways winding a haunted wood
A spectre stands where faith once stood

Bear me not upon your eyes of glass
Allow this storm to gently pass
Confusion’s spell is deftly cast
A flag of truce upon my mast

Forgive mistakes made blindly in vain
Unintended daggers that caused you pain
Let laughter heal the tears like rain
Allow the sun to rise and anger wane

Mortal it is true, this fallible shell
Though weary of heart has loved you well
When fierce winds blow and tides will swell
Tis a friendship only time will tell

 

For my Soul Sister