Thank you

I have been anxious and unproductive all day.
But I wanted to take time and thank all of you for your comments and support.
So, I wrote this for you. I guess this is what I needed to do today.

This is my thank you.

Your wealth of kind
And beauty of phrase
Walks the lawn of soft
Below green eyes pooled
With encouraged words.
As wind white fabric
Pulls my schooner
Along the hands of sea.

Shots of Love

throwback a few shots of love.
rub each across your lips
with a fleshy back of hand.
grab a quick breath of sharp,
then wince, cough, or spit.

Rug

Dust muted blue woolen rug,
your flowers aren’t blooming.
Sun beams through double panes
heating particles which drift above
the ancient stain on matted hair.

Manly feet have pressed you down
but you’ve stood and held your warp.
One might roll upon your tainted flesh
but risk the allergies and sneeze loudly
into the weave, or leave a mess.

Twilight Traditions

Twilight Traditions

Fantasy type poem done as a Co-write/Duet with Hastywords

Paper Napkin

Words wiped from her face
collect on a paper napkin,
which when opened on her lap
unfolds the story of her day.

Fences at Dawn

Wiry teeth yawn fences at dawn
and the dogs stay chained within.
Rabbit trees hear miles of song
and guitars play themselves in the sun.

Wind is tearing his breath away
and his heart chases after the clouds.
This is the day woolen carpets can’t fly,
and small birds scratch tears in his eyes.

William’s bed and its rabbit’s foot
roll sevens under the ruffle.
He’s hidden the song in a yawn
and chases dogs til eleven.

As Dense this Night

Trees gathered close
as we deep into wood
Angry holes by sharp bones
as needles soft our feet
Sword hewn arms
as waving good bye
weeping blood for soil
as dense this night

Wishes Miss their Stars

Bury me softly in the earth.
I’ll wait there deep inside
while roots puncture flesh
and rocks replace my eyes.

Under the overgrown yard
with rotted stones
quaking on the lawn
where hopes have gone.

Too late to exhume,
dreams pool on wood,
wishes miss their stars,
and night wears out the dark.

riffing on a phrase from “Down in a Hole” by Alice in Chains

Ballet Statue

Whirls of sand sculpt headstones from lazy ballet slippers. The satin laces are like arms of flesh holding their hands, then sweeping out and twirling into a statue of motion. A famous face has been erased from the satin bust. Kneel now, then lift one arm and point in the direction she’s gone.

Red Letters

He read red letters while laying against a wall. Then, Damien drew pictures on wrinkled paper and crinkled them into a ball. Blue blouses dodged the tossed ball which crashed into the red letters and made them fall.