I Wish I Could Write

 

I wish I could write . . . . .

 

words that leap off the page

and stay with you

long after being read

words that make you

laugh so hard

your belly aches

words  that make you

breakdown and cry

overwhelmed with emotion

words that reach

deep into your soul

so you know you're not alone

words that celebrate

life and the living

of everyday magic

words that ignite

raw passion

the fire in your blood

 

words that chew you up

 and spit you out

forever changed

words that invoke

a childlike state

of wonder and awe

 

words that energize

inspire action

set you on a beautiful adventure
 

but alas

my words have fallen

the way of dinosaurs

 

. . . . . I wish I could write


Linking up with dVerse

Nature's Assault

penetrating with violent force
howling rage and anger
you came

a sound track of wailing
ripping, tearing
shredding and splintering

a weakness seeking missile
twisting limbs broken
intent on destruction

screams
trailing and whimpering
to the apology of sun's caress

Questions Of Lies

facts on bloody fire
against action spread

circumstance my aversion
withheld memory my crime

let me confess
loathsome caresses walk
between the silence stitched awkwardness
and the questions of lies

Linking up with dVerse

Sleep Laden Lashes

full stops litter a wordless sky

as white flakes fall like stardust

shaken from sleep laden lashes

with darkness closing

in peaceful solitude

The past several weeks have been spent staring at a blank screen.  I'm hoping it's just a passing phase and that the writing will flow again.

Mining The Obscure



navel gazing turns distant
sinking inwards
unearthing wormholes existence

while wonder
swirling featherless
mines the obscure

and I'm left wondering
if dark matter matters

if my world is whirling
or if it's me that's swirling
motionless
in the whirlpool of life

trapped circling the absence
of everything and nothing

 Linking up with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Fingerprinting Truth

"Write to be understood, speak to be heard, read to grow . . ."  L C Powell

 

Silence Is Golden

Mixed Media Art Painting

a tongue speaks in disguised thoughts
articulating the betrayal
of words
    of sound
        of silent wisdom
as barely a whisper screams expression
bridging the gap between want and choice
where footprints are seen
not heard
merely echoes reflecting reality
visible in all their falseness
and behind the mass of disquiet
a heart's beat measures the load
of intrepid, hell-bent mutterings
determined to fingerprint truth

Linking up with #Reverb14, and Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

#Reverb14: Certainty

Take a quiet moment to consider: what can you say right now with certainty?

 

Opening the brown cardboard box my breathing instinctively slows and with a deep breath, I lift out the tree, bound in burlap with a red bow, the one you bought for me.

Straightening branches and adjusting lights, I feel the tenuous link to Christmases past, the ones with you in them.  The lights blur and in a teary haze, I see you.  Somehow, you found the strength to give us that last Christmas Day for sixteen days later you would breathe your last breath.

Time nudges me forever forward but there is one thing I am certain of . . . I will always love you.

Linking up with #Reverb14

Bound Tightly Open

the end of beginnings

the beginning of ends

observer of the insipid

of disingenuous truth

 

piercing introspective

rattling nerves

as key

to a lockless room

a fingerprint

in a sea of hands

pained

by the strength of scars

label adhered wounds

full-mouthed and slipping

stitched up , threaded

bound tightly open

Linking up with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads and Poetry Pantry

Love In The Time Of Melancholy

my heart shatters
at the pitch of you

jagged shards of F sharp blues
a melancholy chord
soul bound strung

in words
    in notes
        it's all the same

innuendos instrumental
in the rhythm of blame
crescendo's dulcet irony

your feet rumble a beat
of lock stock and barrel
in a distant key
 

Linking up with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads and Poets United

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Dyche Designs Studio

An Altered Mind

there's no magic in dry spells

in uncertainty and doubt

in tones of expectation

or in hues of drawing out

 

but in stroking the darkness

in the fear of letting go

embracing random chaos

in letting emotions flow

 

executing ideas

not by guillotine or gun

but through the touch of texture

in unravelling undone

 

emerging to dull echoes
of great suffering and pain
a mind altered of color
yet the shadows they remain

Linking up with dVerse

******

HOLIDAY SALE: receive 25% off your purchase with coupon code HOLIDAY14.  Simply enter during checkout to receive your discount (offer excludes shipping).

Dyche Designs Studio

Dead Man Walking

stench of death tinged with breadth of life
tongues a warning of regret and grief
value measured in shades of grey
mourning rising each generation

dreams of color form ashen footsteps
with gait of choices on dusty road
to the vibrating pulse of a static heart
charred with remains of earthy memories

the subtle hues of light and dark
rich with allusion cast no shadow
for he is obscure, a shade of sunless
for he is the shadow, the dead man walking

Linking up with dVerse

Bolts of Self-Deception

pondering wanders with absent mind
arms outstretched
fingers trailing blindly
the dark dank sides of spiral's braille

elbow of momentum at your back
allure of gravity to your fore
the magnitude of obscurity
compressing distorted assumptions

reflections fail to consume the pitch
of sharp keys turned to unlock nothing
as bolts of self-deception echo

Linking up with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

True Gift

the past holds a mirror

the future a glass ball

but the true gift

is that of the present 

The Pulse Of Darkness

 

where the pulse of darkness
drums a splintered beat
between awareness and torment
pain
the breaker of rules
makes me feel everything
and nothing

while I stand here reeling
on the edge of emptiness
as black as the coal
my grandfather mined
the canary's song
long silenced
by shadows of fear's playground

and gazing into the abyss
a fissure of self
the moon's image holds me
as I wipe away tears
with the truth of its light

Linking up with dVerse

Evening's Edge

 

dragonflies dart by waters edge
the glistening of blue green hues
mirroring their iridescence
as though relative

while light shines on lifeless limbs
the sun showing no distinction
between the living and the dead
drawn only by the vast expanse
of continuous horizons

gliding through the evening depths
easing into letting go
of breath, of body, of mind
expanding ripples contort
everything of human form

Linking up with dVerse

The Woven Tale Press Feature

I am excited to announce that several of my images and poems are featured in the September edition of The Woven Tale Press, a monthly e-magazine.

Their mission is to highlight blog posts buried in archives; paintings and photographs worthy of greater focus than a singular page; the innovative, the funny and the offbeat.  

 

It's free to peruse and only a click of this link away.  Have fun exploring the writing, artwork and images of its many featured artists.

Impermanence

 

I openly hold your warm caress
mourning the loss of all that's fading
lips locked in a kiss that can't convey
the inward ache of all that's missing

under light turned dark there's no solace
cries of loneliness echo your name
retreating to shadows of feeling
a blind reference missing its frame

each thought more pointed than truthfulness
that flies in the face of abstraction
tomorrow whispers impermanence
of life, of love, of interaction

Linking up with dVerse, Imaginary Garden With Real Toads and Poetry Pantry

The Trees Call Us Home

prehistoric knuckles

once dragged the ground

and you wonder what it was like
to walk upright for the very first time

the change in perspective
that would find limbs moving
from branches
to the confines of hand built walls

vertigo replacing contentment
as we long once again
for the giddying heights
of the trees that call us home

Pain

they say . . . . .
"keep your friends close
your enemies closer"

so tonight I'll writhe
under your magnitude

rumpled sheets
clenched
in balled fists

begging and pleading
sweat beading
as I let you fuck me

Wish Bone

 

fowl soothsayer
predicting grains of future
we tear flesh
from your carcass

pick at morsels
caught between our teeth
and wish upon the snap
of your hollow bones