sky why you so blue
grass so green
trees so tall
soul so clear
eye so deep
as to decipher
what’s not clear
to this wounded heart
can these walls
really be it
alpha’s omega
will come so soon
the comet this way
comes again
to interview my nature
time sits across from me
sticks her dried out tongue at me
i ignore time and i think about how the Sun catches in his eyes
sometimes the night dwells there too
the Moon interlaced with sparks of blue and black and only a color that God can name
time and i we have this relationship contingent upon
who falls from the table first she’s so wicked mean witch and i almost the same
then i think about him
i think about how those eyes
the Sun has caught and keeps me mesmerized taking my plans away from me
the Sun gets lost and the spider web blue topaz those are
i’m a fool
time laughs at me
she laughs at me
lady time she’s never believed that he catches the Sun in his eyes
she doesn’t want me to know that the radiant ocean of his soul is where i can go
time is a jealous harpy
dry heavy silence
unyielding and she stares
me in my eyes that don’t catch hardly anything anymore
dark
fire out
tired
sometimes we muse at the thought of how he catches
the Sun in his eyes blue so so blue
my eye
my third eye so so extinguished
it was quick easy clean and graceful dreams today for me are sharp
wires on the way over hard horizon the heart is tossed away there are some music notes along side like comets
mocking heart in her exile away from him
upon the crossing of that place heart’s lost hind sight again with only tear salted picture frames of his hand no longer holding her
i once found him looking into my eyes holding my hands
he moved me to live to love to laugh
while the endless hoping
that my days will die fast
fuel the tomorrows that cast me into a grinding trap
i really wish i wouldn’t have to leave and pace back and forth between cold frontiers looking into darkness
the void is left
as limbo and i walk hand in hand exhausted
hail to R Banks for conceptualizing and making this offering and picture possible love you so much
time sits on the shelves
next to all the dreams
just an index finger’s length
out of reach
her side of the wall
sustains the portraiture
of her bloodline
his side the world’s articles of hate
never knowing of each other
going about their life
the wall that separates them both
in between the unseen darkness waits for them
patiently there void of light
and when that time marches from its sitting place again
to guide their souls into the other world
the ego skin from them will finally be shed
stillness has a home among ashes of dead flowers past
old dust only remnants left of her
here in this room of austerity supple cries still cling to the remnants of the time when she was
when her bird died or when her heart got broken to know he had been taken from her in a muddy field cold with rain and damned with fire
madness ensued and she never knew that her name was the last on his longing lips
dawn she comes to knock on my window like room service the same time every day
i found myself floating on a cloud with a pink hounds tooth pattern covered ironing board
on it one of L Cohen’s suits and through the little poofy clouds Motley Crüe played girls girls girls that sounded an awful lot like so long Marianne
earlier during the dark part of the 24 hours i could not sleep nor did i want to so i bought some fancy eye cream to hide those saggy violet rings
i try to journal certain things that need goodbyes but it’s not that easy i’d be writing my fingers right down to a stub
life is funny how she crouches like a tiger and pounces when least expected like when i stained my bed sheets with menstrual blood that one time and i was sad and angry for months because it was a loss a woman never really heals from
then one starts to think about the turnips on sale and how i should have bought some but at least i got my baby broccoli so i’ll survive
dawn paves the way for morning with Chai tea and a triple espresso chaser i start to stare again out of the window of the room but today i will be ready for the sneaky tigers
who might this stranger be
he stares into my eyes
i’m as sure as one day i will die
that i will never meet him in the flesh
there see in the stillness
Of his shot all of the grays blacks and whites
the wrinkles on his face
i imagine hold a code of his life in microcosm
just for me to read the glance it tells tales
of other places so far away that those skies are of an undiscovered blue
and his smile it fills me with mooshiness inside
because i feel the fibers of his soul
rough on the surface but softer as you deeper go
and when he touches a petal or waves or strums a cord
i too can touch wave and strum internally
is that what it means to live
spider’s web on the corner
the dust and sunlight dance
a waltz
cracks in my bones books on my shelves chipped polish on my nails
the spider has gone to another land and i wonder if she was a pilgrim looking for God as well
not in the mood for anything to eat i sit and watch my cat sneak around the tables
silence in my heart and in the windows purple orange skies
no particular need for any promise i’m quite grown up
and think beyond those silly things
but every now and then the feeling flutters like a moth outside his lantern how did time
escape from me
ah yes a broken glass
in the midst of my heart
your chest swells and collapses in slow motion
i miss watching the hairs curled up tight in salt and pepper rosettes
you didn’t love me i was too young but on cold lonely nights you couldn’t stay away from my womanly thighs
i drank alone on the floor cursing the day i was born then when the sun took her post
i walked through my door having to face the world again
words less spoken 