Window Seat

Wisdom is found at her window gazing
Through the willow leaves
One might see her face
Spring has come
And Winter is over
Yet wisdom still sits in her place

Mother Nature watches over
Her sacred forest family
Her starry allies hiding in the shadows
Where they live in harmony

Father Skyway plays his guitar
Nearer clearly to the sea
The fisher man asks for his flower
So that he can soon be free

Sister Singer's breast are fatter
Potted with an orange love
No thesis quoted; she's no pastor
But she's got an answer from above

The priest is a coward and a player
He got herpes from this guy
And every summer it gets no better
 But he has got his alibi...

From the center of his soul I shiver
Up my spine down to my toes
And I am ever riding onward
Where the paths of love have flowed

And as we walk on through our lives
Wisdom still sits in her place
And any of those of us who care to
Could look up and see her face

The glass of life is just reflection
Thoughts of home and family
Our common ground is in our sorrow
Hope and love and fear and peace

Freedom lies beneath our fingers
Where our searching finds no end
Anxiety is just deception
And Death is but a long lost friend

Fly away on wings of passion
Smile inside a bright sunburst
Love is all we'll ever need
To quench our overwhelming thirst

Just remember Wisdom's portrait
Gazing from her window seat
Nothing else is as important
As the wings of someone free

Aim

Disdain me if you must
I combust for no one but me
i am a spark set free
I am the missing piece
To a puzzle that began a very long time ago
Slow and easy
I keep on breathing
Seething sometimes because of the lack of sublime
Nature
Surrounding me in this clown scene
Street sweeping
Penetrating glances
Always meant for
But not aimed at
Me

Ineffable

Brick upon brick I have layered my grip. Stories in the reflection pools. The eyes the windows of so many souls. We are evading the answer by dancing with the Devil. We level with no one not even the best of our friends. We pretend to make use of our time. Wise words never spoken and reality television begins to control our lives. We are the parameter. We are the ones who have the power to maintain, build or fall. The call has come from the blue eyed piper. We stepped in deep to the reality of the cypher. We are not so much the wiser as we are wandering more confused than before. So, open the doors to the halls of your heart. Remember the words you heard from the start. Hum to yourself the music of the spheres, and stop listening with your ears. We are here, puzzle pieces of perfection. This is my admontion: rise to the occasion. This life is worth saving. Choose as if it were your last breath. Know as if you have nothing else left. If you offer up your best you will surely be blessed but do it as if no reward hung in the balance. Your voice offers sound because it needs to be heard. Unearth the power in your verbs. Command your words into action, and help us repair this Earth.

Mountain Scream

How dare you assume that I must choose sides? How can you make statements about this woman at your side when you have not asked the proper questions? How can the story be heard without the telling of the importance of the lesson? I am stepping lightly in the direction of the night: not because I choose the darkness over light. I choose to see all that we possess inside. In the balance of all we are lies the magic to move forward. I am nothing without all the pain that I have seen. Nothing is as relevant as everywhere I’ve ever been. I am the mystery underneath the skin of a book opened for the first time. I can rhyme with the best as I am blessed with the true power of words. I have heard your plea, but are you listening to me? You dig into the flesh, hunger for the meat of the marrow. Sparrow lands on planted pans of herbs and flowers for healing. I am stealing a glance in the other direction. This protection offered cannot be my benediction. I am slipping the transmission into reverse. This Earth must listen or we can wish on some other star to save us. I will combust with all I have been asked to keep inside. Glide over lands that don’t understand the powers that reside. Open your eyes. We are in danger of the consequences of our pride. I decided a long time ago to give it my best, be one with the flow. I know that I am imperfect and stride forward with every marker I find. I am listening to the tides. We must begin tonight. Sight unseen and the gleam of distant lands understand the propensity of our heavy hand. I demand satisfaction. It is not as hard to do things right. We struggle only to maintain the lie. We must let go of the demons before we collide. I am open to the glowing Moon. Listen in as I begin the playing of the tune that will lead us to freedom. Can you hear the double meaning? I am screaming at the top of the mountains that unearthed the fountain not of youth or of power. Let us not be devoured. Now is the hour. We are the ones we have been waiting for.

Echo

I am the daughter of another place and another time. Rhyme schemes produce themselves from my lips with echoes of the sublime. I am finding a new passage. Dark waters drip from my flesh like the music of the spheres is all I am about to have left. Who might I trust with this elemental combustion? I am the seduction of the muses. I choose to be me because it pleases thee. I am wading in water now up to my chest. I remember all I am about to collect. I have purpose on this Earth and I am wasting not one breath. Please direct my steps.

The Great Gatsby

The Story hung on me like the most terrible hangover. Many doors opened but the weight of it was hard to render into words. Sights seen and responses heard vary to every viewer. The power of a movie over me as though the version of me that sat in the seat while the beginning introduced us to the characters was not the same as the version of me that left bewildered by the time credits rolled. The old woman’s soul who responded to my breath as we left could not explain how much I disdained the way the story came to a close. Much like we closed the door to the car only to travel as far as she letting me off to wander the sidewalk to my door. I could not break another heart. I started remembering the beginning of every story I had walked my clumsy way through. I viewed the you inside the truth. The perception is all we have left when breast has become bereft and all that is cleft has been torn asunder. I wonder why love has to hurt so much. And I truly believe that if we all would see that it was only worth it if it leaves us in one piece. Pieces of the puzzle turned to rubble when children lose fathers and daughters lose mothers. We seem to uncover the mystery in someone else’s eyes. Cries left unheard. We unearth dark waters in the passage of an ocean liner. Inside winding its confident way: our destiny remembers all we are about to do and say. What volition will I follow today? I am the weeping of your deepest untold secret. I am the marking of your flesh when the pain is all you have left. I am the soft melody of my niece’s first stroke of my piano. I am the soprano in your voice when you have no choice left but to sing. Sing for all it is worth because the music is our birth. We are the rapid rising of the rain after all the waters of the heaven have chosen to fall again. I am beaten up and maintained by the love in your eyes for me. Why do we choose to ignore the alternative? Why do we refuse to give it our best because the left fork in the road consumes the marrow of our soul? We roll on out of control wondering what blessings this path might bestow? I am holding back nothing. I am the truth in the speaking. I am the reaping of the season. I am the heathen who is aware of all they are about to lose. I choose you. Where does that leave us?

Allergic

Through a dense thicket of forest leaves
I see the detination of the July sky
Bright cobalt hues of red and blue
Geisha white and I am faltering
Singing in the April Rain
I feel the pain
Of a thousand centuries of love mistakes
Taking quickness from my limbs I fall to the Earth
On my knees
Black soil
Rich with the scents of coming Thunder
Marching like iron men
All in a picket row
Lightning fills the hairs on my eyelids
One thousand lashes
If you counted nice and slow
We are electric beings
Dissenting unseen things
Only for the lack of viewing them
With our own sleep ridden eyes
A thousand cries of hearts I've broken
By being the only love
That embraced them just right
So tonight I sleep alone and lonely
If only for a moment
And my breath is gone
Dust inside September breezes
God sneezes
And it all begins again

Grace

Size me up
Fill my cup
And let me dance to the danger in your dexterity
I am wickedness removed from truth
I am youth that will never age
I am a page so loved it can never be turned
I burn with the wisdom of an ancient sage
Yet I am as naive as a day old babe
Waves
Of amber confusion
Combustible rhyme
Sipping liters of couplets out of time
I wind down the lane of life
Remembering myself
one morsel at a time
I am the Divine
Echo
the great nothing
The something that is between your toes
But you don't know why
I am the cry in the darkness
I remember where your spark is
And if you to me hearken
We can do this in style

Tempo

I walked for what seemed like forty angry water miles
No direction
Just the sound of the rain on the pavement
The pelt of the rain on my skin
Cold
Penetrating
My surface layers vibrant and alive
Remembering every drink of water I had ever had
I tasted freedom
Dark thoughts came and went as I breathed out hard
Compressed air
Releasing cries from my chest
Bereft of every other me I had ever known
i honed in on the sound of the cars passing by
Stopping to wonder why I was so comfortably
If quickly
Walking with the rain
Dancing on the balls of my feet
As i walked to the beat of the music in my head
The cadence of the rain
The symmetry of this moment
Perfect in every way
I remembered her
How could I ever forget?
Lost in some quadruple pentameter of
Some old poem I had once upon a time memorized
I sighed
Why did she never come home?
Alone.
Is this what was meant for me?
Or was I just excavating some wanderlust?
Combustible with no filter
I sauntered to the left
A little off kilter from the embrace of the wine
He gave me the time to take
All I needed from every grace of his skin
I am the quickening
of every new me yet to come
I run this race with the finish line an afterthought
To running well
And sure, when I tell a story
I usually start from the middle and fill in tangents
That some times make sense to those listening in
To my internal banter
i rant and rave
this lunatic speak
as I drink in the tempo
Of this brand new RAin