Category: Freeverse

In The Middle

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We stay close
Bunched up
Grains of sand
On a lonely beach

It drives us mad
This closeness
Transforms us
To lash out
As rattler’s broods

The engine of progress
Its constant drone
Inescapable
Replaces
The music
Of a gentle brook
And the rustling
Of deer moving
Quietly through
Forest’s timberland

So confusing
This voice
That perpetually
Reminds
Of such lovely consciousness
Reminds
Of unknown places
Asking, begging
To be discovered

Diptych – (2) 12″x12″ oils on canvas
I’m sure there are places where the drone of freeways are non-existent.
Where the wind passing through the trees is an event.







Stripped

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Tough
Is the shell
Skin worn
But not destroyed

Sleep 
Has been my pastime
While assaults of cold
Bitter winds 
Remove molt 

The days are longer
Something stirs
Exoskeleton eases
Something new
Something green

Rebirth
Forces itself
Screaming quietly
For the sun

There seems to be an abundance of weather related stories and blog posts today. So here’s mine! I do have to admit, our weather here is pretty dull compared to those in the north. This year has been seasonal for a nice change (in So Cal).

Reaffirmation

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We are in agreement
The birds and I
Our sacred covenant
N’er to be broken

They swear
To look for you
At every corner
And shadow

For the price of suet and seed

And when found
They will report to me
Your whereabouts
In complete detail
Whether high or low

They follow my every step

Now, no longer
Do I wait by lit window
Nor anticipate another sunset
Without half of my soul

Be it cliff or chilly waters
Mired exposure
Dangers from vicious beasts
Dangers from within
Or falls within the abyss of doubt

We will find you
And you will find me
In this new place
You bring us to.

There is no such thing as Valentines Day. There is no such thing as romance. There is only the practice of love. It takes us through dark places into the light. It takes our every ounce of strength, and gives us comfort when everything changes. And only works, when we give everything without accounting.
Not easy.

The Shape of Things

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Everything was falling
Nothing hit the ground
It all floated gently
Despite gravity crashing the party

The pool has a leak
But it never empties
If I could just find the ladder
At least then,
I’d discover the bottom

Water soluble oils on canvas 12″x12″
Not sure what it means…sometimes I have no control over what happens next with the paint.

Going Home

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Those words
When we say them
Mean Nothing
And Everything

A subjective a comment
Unique
Only to the speaker

Such places
Only exist in our minds
For a time

While the walking
Directs our steps
To perilous places
Where we fear
Being torn apart

Though once we’ve traversed the gauntlet
Of hungry wolves and bears
We find the single door
Of long standing memory
Painted same as childhood dream

Knocking avails no answer
Fumbling keys do not fit the lock
Slowly opens of its own volition
And is filled with home
The subjective agreement
Of rest and assurance