a brittle tyrant

a heart, such a tender part of life
to have such power- a brittle tyrant
and when heart is an instrument of love
life's most precious metaphor

it fills songs and empty spaces
makes us weak and strong, bends
us til we feel we will break, and then
salves the wounds of its arrows

it can live in fruition, thrive in denial...
a heart holds passions, an
insignificant force in all but the heart
where it is tide and sea, moon and host
judge and prison, Eden and exile

It is in deep eyes that flow from one to one
a river of deepest life...it is you;
it is me and the space we tolerate
between a touch we desire and a glow
that burns in nights that cover dreams

a singular spark that lights a lasting flame
boundless and breakable, resilient and deep--
this heart--left me long ago
to find a truth of will, and I am like
the night sky- filled by fates and illusions;

beauty as if diamonds of
compressed  tears and laughter,
and  a singular purpose,  to embrace... your fires

a forgotten view

greed, a servant of a wasteful few
in golden fog boundless, above
a forgotten view, too long misplaced
virtue, the needs of the needful.

Greed, a waster of the precious many:
bloodline of  heroes, innocents;
life givers, rescuers, vaunt
angels in wait, bearers of
witness in a journey to
our more distant tomorrows-
when even gold and diamonds
will fade away -when memory captures
an enduring grace,
a cup of milk and a hungry child.

man's own magic.

I confess to a sin of dreams
where freedom finds its will
like winds that fill sails
and take us where we'd might never be.

A sin of wishes, a luxury of imaginings
but a place where we weave
a tapestry of tomorrows
by strength of will, force majeure 
of the spirit; we rely upon nothing more
than breath and time, yet create
what has not been...a moment
in which to dwell, a spell
man's own magic.

Confess to a sin of excess
for I am blessed with you.

stranger's smile

when memories
stay and crowd the present
mingle like strangers on a train
a journey to a destination
crosses time like clack-ety tracks
to make rhythms of  rolling thoughts
new ways to see old things, discovery
jostles like strangers twice seen,
riding old rails to the first smile…

moment in the Sun

Towards glows above the low  west
speed loses distinction, seems still
a return to end a useless circle.
Now flame fills clouds

gives new purposes to air above horizon
golden plumes rise
as this road bends and winds
the mind finds another layer
traffic player and philosophe--weaving
a trail through love and mystery--
streaming into a great ball of light
lowing slowly from sight, enlightning
as light showers me in clarity


Oh, the precious fires,
Loves who have gone
like flame of a day...
and I remember now

could never recall sunsets
so many delicious fadings
skies of light and color;
suddenly,  I do.

Revived-- so many feelings
as light-- sinking into the sea,
settling over distant trees,
falling behind dark faces of mountains,
hidden by man made towers,  phallic vanities.
Suddenly, I remember.

how it felt in the last time
I fully touched, loved
fell without caution
into the wonders of a woman.

Suddenly, my eyes well and blur
as I see so much...so clearly

unpublished

 unpublished#101(at the table)

at the table
busy, busy place- voices, dishes, movement-
a simple candle remains
with half filled glasses
red for you…white me
and I watch your lips, as the room
dissolves, words and whispers
pour over my mind. filling my glass
again and again, until I spin a little

and you ask…am I listening…
I say… no, I never listen…
I love…

unpublished #103

Found a melody

in the roll of distant thunders

where cloud and mountain

make a drum of air;

when fire flash intervals

bring deeper moments of night

of heat and soft moist  air.

A soft wind lifts a trace,

a memory of a kiss…and at once

I miss summer and you

Unpublished#109

 in the sounds
urgent whispers,  we want
give, take...feelings so full
swell like clouds, wet words
fill arid airs between us
you...my night song of red dunes,
the deep pools of my  oasis

 

slivers...

hold to night, by slivers of time

watch moon grow
from red to gold, in your beauty;

unfolds like a night flower

I wish for petals to touch me

 your eyes to dance over me

lightness of fingertips on my face

trace smiles raised on my lips

when at once I reach for you

capture body in embrace

as thoughts race like hot blood

holding you, feeling

breath of passion, near

the heart I'd given away so long ago

then know the circle come closed

such an imperfect man…in a perfect love,
a love that does not ask a thing