Category Archives: poetry

Silver

Silver coins from fingers to fingers … a trick of the hands I learned before I could understand.

Reflections of my self, unbroken from a surface I knew in shards.
Arrows piercing, cutting like words thrown from bitter tongues.
You saw me, and the mirror in your eyes became the truth I allowed myself to see.

Slick surface payout that revealed lines (yes), scars (yes), and age (yes?)

Also kindness … silverblue mirror and silverbrown frame around a face … of mine … that I had not loved until You.

My hands are bare, no longer shackled by the rings that declared me property and shameful.

My hands are my own to weave or build with. No reminders of ‘owned by’ or ‘ego slave’.
The rings that adorn me in the future will declare me loved and admired.

My unbound hands and my mouth grow stronger and more sure. Silver truth flows … look at these words as witness.

The goddess spoke Your name and it exploded into stars. Metaphoric meteors I cast my wishes upon.
I  see them behind my eyelids while our lips exchange words and passion.  Your mouth on mine alights the heavens and I am adrift in a sea of  silver lights. Myriad and distant. Endless depths of silver coins  spilled from the pockets of the eternal beggar: god itself. An endless  ocean with bits of bright chalk here and there … and one perfect blue  star.
(Not Venus … no, my love; the she-planet runs her circle and  spins her own tales. She is magnificent, certainly, but just a planet.)  I mean the star. The Star! The silver-blue tip of Orion’s garment. The  one whom I implore to send you messages of adoration, comfort, and  loyalty.

There were glittering stars under our feet  that night. Crushed remnants of past tragedies that sparkled like  Christmas nonetheless. There are glittering glitters of memories in my  soul, too. Unlike the nickles in my pocket, we do not reflect: we shine.

We shine silver and create memories of our own. Perfect in love and dancing under the pale blue eye of Rigel.

On silver trenchers I offer you my splintered green heart.
It is not perfect, but it creates pure silver … and it is Yours if You will have it.

Leave a comment

Filed under Musings, poetry

Lovers

Seperation.
Attempted Reconciliation.
Distance.

A little art I created. Open to your own interpretation.

Leave a comment

Filed under Music, poetry

Gold

Fell asleep on the couch, not quite on purpose. Hazy sunbeam woke me up, bouncing off of the ring. The ring that doesn’t fit anymore. Doesn’t fit in any sense.

Hazy sunbeams in an airless room on a July afternoon. Friends and family and way too crowded. The bride is beautiful, glowing and ripe.

The ring dangles from a black ribbon. Tiny diamond heirloom from another failed endeavor.

I do and I do and I will and I promise. Nerves and heat. Eyes everywhere, expectant.

The sun warms the color, making it appear deep and meaningful, but the meaning has changed. Matrimony to melancholy. Once she was my song, now she is my versus.

We cry joy and there’s cake served with chaos. Later there’s mountains and sunset.

Mesmerized for a moment. When did it stop fitting? When did it stop meaning? When did joy turn bitter? When did I?

We tumbled through years, decades. Danced and hurt, healed and danced again. Then the song was over.

This memory on a ribbon.

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Pray Lewd

I choose to see the growth within the rain.
I choose to see the nutrition in the dirt.
I choose to see the healing in the heartbreak.
I do not walk my road in fear.

#rebeljesus

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

I Want to Call You.

I want to call You and tell You about the things I saw, felt, and thought while walking

I want to call You and tell You about the dreams I have

I want to call You and share the art that grows in my heart

I want to call You just to hear Your laughter … free and wild, like Your spirit

I want to call You … mine.

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

The Copse

I want to be beautiful. 

Not like something for sale, not what a patriarchal society whistles and moans and lusts over, no.
I want … I long to be the beauty of the natural.
Not even the peacock, or the flowers, but the thriving, brilliant, living Green of the leaves that at once delights, comforts, and feeds.

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

A Place Reserved

There are walks We will never take.

Places We’ll never see together .

Adventures We will never share.

Stories We will never create.

Conversations, never born.

I remember them all.

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry