Category: poetic meanderings

the day after

she shines humbly, glistening with hope and beauty her faults scream at her and she buries herself in his warmth ashamed, that life has intruded upon her soul still, she falls ever deeper into him

undated

Circle encircling me.  Protection?  Safety ribbons flowing and clutching, offering the promise of a life other than this.  Different.  The picture flashes before me but never clear.  Actuality and surety elude.  Days, weeks, months pass by.  No difference. Arms encircle and hold me tight. Encircle and flow with love around and through each part of my being. Circle suffocates. Circle spins round and round … Read More undated

cocoon

in bed alone, yet he, too, is there, but not there… blankets securely fastened about, and around… him, no possibility of skin touching skin touching skin… i know my place, and tonight… it is lonely  

more than

Tears well up and will their salty selves to fall from my eyes as I fight to hold them back.  Insecurity washes over me, and I mourn me as the corners of my eyes pull and sting with pain.  Sadness consumes my being.  Tears beg now to crash and fall hard and fully.  Wash me clean and allow me to begin again. I hold … Read More more than

reel

If I wrote you in words I would attempt to syntactify what we did in those sacred moments when we stole together and how it felt to be encased in your arms.  I would remember the day on Ray when you walked through my door in baseball cap that I jarred when I ran to kiss you.  My words would tremble as I did … Read More reel

swingasan

Lost stars we are…weaving to and fro through our transitional realities.  I sit and mildly swing, sipping on white wine and contemplating me.  I do not forsake myself. I do not judge my desire to simply sit and just be. My favorite day of the week is my first day alone.

and i

today i saw the world through your eyes and i felt the joy in being you and i laced my fingers into yours and i breathed your air and i grew in my heart    

sea of me

the tide is beautiful today utterly serene, and perfect crash in, and roll out, and not at all unlike my own thoughts sounding ferocious, but not… not today i imagine myself into a movie of crashing waves, and wild seas, and you… sipping from the fresh-water creek, and smiling at me  

she

she, who packages her face and body and eye gaze neatly within the confines of self there, nothing and nobody can penetrate her in her ultimate safety wary, her downward gaze tells me, of getting attached again; unsure of the longevity of it all she doesn’t like loud voices or suitcases or tears Pain is constant, yet each episode temporary (I tell her) Soon … Read More she

dear jack, et al

vanilla nut warmth and contemplation tentacles searching to answer me that which is my contemplation lost in the words of great writers the contemplative state of mind begs answers that elude and allow me to think upon the very act of thinking i am my sea and ocean my waves of knowing and unknowing wash me in thought and leave me there to wonder … Read More dear jack, et al

girls on the #wdw circuit

three concerts three cities seven days twenty car rides four planes twelve tickets two lanyards four dog tags bracelets, all colors too many to name five boys loved by two of my girls three photos pro style and pro money six outfits well planned stolen laces one birthday of 13 colorful macaroons aplenty nerves, glowing cheeks, near fainting long lines and lite rain hugs, … Read More girls on the #wdw circuit

the writer

the writer as simple as she is complicated as free as she is bound thoughts always mind or paper tip of pen crest of love lost… yet found-ed the writer as sure as she is unsteady bares her soul buries her gaze life in words creating pictures big love sur (photograph-like) henry, anais, jack my poetic heroes dirty floors, and transatlantic pbj’s city lights … Read More the writer