Daily Archives: December 16, 2015

SURELY I COME FOR YOU MY LOVE!

SOME words bleed deepingly
the expressively
fine hand of shuttering windowed
hearts
Tilting with heavy winds
upon gentle stems of life
strawberry-kissed a heart
when nature uprooted
love unto other parts
of her hungry heart
An abrasively  kiss came in
for my love’s praising
through winter’s thick
frost kissing!
:: 12152015 ::


BLUE JAY BLISS

Daybreak: by my own deepest wish
and through the voice of morning’s
blue jay bliss (and upon your hand)
my small heart is there I hear
the stretched wings of tiny kisses
calling like a dry exhalation
that escapes the world’s pains
Then why, assuming life is true
as the love through my veins
(and soul, too) would your hand
turn back toward your breast
to wish you are mine is as breathing

Only once, only once in a lifetime
in this watch keeping time does
the forest and her green tears of
fragment-fallings splinter wood
save two souls truly in love

WE blindly(steady my arm for your neck)
took the path chosen by fate and the many
words of poetry under the weight and
that warmth of your body — topples time
out of my skin
and the sleep of your heart
the dream of love falls downward,
falls whispering an ode
to forest and lovers

:: 12152015 ::


THE SPAN OF TIME

What is the span of time

compared to love?

A week, or month or centuries?

And how would the heart survive

within a myriad of perils

at the foot of that abyss?

And how long does a man

spend dying?

The brain thinks as the
fingers thrump the counter top
and no knowledgeable priests
or philosopher knows — i know
seeing god and devil part their ways
to visit the eternal void

And all these happen-stance
wittinesses will count to twelve
and keep the secret within their
inner most hearts!

:: 12152015 ::


THE SPAN OF TIME

What is the span of time

compared to love?

A week, or month or centuries?

And how would the heart survive

within a myriad of perils

at the foot of that abyss?

And how long does a man

spend dying?

The brain thinks as the
fingers thrump the counter top
and no knowledgeable priests
or philosopher knows — i know
seeing god and devil part their ways
to visit the eternal void

And all these happen-stance
wittinesses will count to twelve
and keep the secret within their
inner most hearts!

:: 12152015 ::


BECAUSE THE SWAMP SINGS

I
Easy is a go by-night silence
deeply throated green tiny-eye’d
orchestra give my heart it’s a’
rhythm bass beating soul and
buzzing stinging thin-wing’d
mosquitoes be’a (do i say?)
agreeing with my soul all down
my legs through my knees with the
Mississippi mud between my toes

II
My broken gui’tar sings so
lonely the moss fall’in (by
voodoo grounds) around me
the old Creole city lay across
this old swamp naturally surprised
cause my fingers keep’a playing
it be -cause slaves danced with
blood and sorrow all the way
from West Indies to New Orleans

III
Dying, as almost I did watching
the Voodoo Queen she ain’t a stopping
her dancing until a minute be’fo
sunrise and it’s still’a raining
like yellow-pink cotton fruit
Marie Laveau stop yo’ hatin’g
gonna sick yo dead husband on you
The poor Jacques Paris had his
newly wedded wife a’calling herself
the, ‘Widow Paris.’

so goes it when the swamp sings
uh huh!

:: 12152015 ::