you titillate with your words
graphic images conjuring
exotic lands foreign and benign
and simple things revealed
by choice morsels picked
with careful and judicious precision.
– 1/21/10 – 55
Tag Archives: free verse
Indecision
i am full of competing desires.
hopes, dreams, and knowledge of past failures,
they echo in the chambers of my mind
ponderous, pondering, weighing, wondering.
– 12/12/09 – 9
Aural Shapes
feel the aural shapes,
soft and feathery light,
sometimes sharp or hard like steel
granite forms expressed on your tongue
tasted like things grown from the earth.
felt on your skin and in your spine,
goosebumps and a flood of tears
or a sudden intake of breath.
– 12/11/09 – 8 #favorite
Sleep Is Your Friend
fatigue wraps itself around you
like a thick blanket,
heavy on your shoulders
its muffled voice whispers
sleep is your friend.
– 12/10/09 – 7
Blow Wind, Howl in the Morning Light
blow wind, howl in the morning light
race down and through and round
the bare and broken city streets.
cold and furious, frigid and wry,
you wrap your fingers fast round
staccato steps and quickened heartbeats
– 12/9/09 – 6 #favorite
My Son, My Son
my son, my son
i know the road you take
the fragile path, the long sojourn
the weary ache and pang of loneliness
the despair you sometimes feel
when you sink beneath waves
of fear and emptiness
my son, my son
i know
– 2/23/2012 — 190
taken loosely from Job 23:10
Hard (i) (an edit)
someone said the test of love
is making hard decisions–
choosing, for another’s sake,
the necessary actions;
taking the proper path
though strewn with rocks,
watered with tears, and
fraught with pain.
for love chooses what is best
chooses what must be
shouldered, borne, and done,
in spite of what might be wanted,
regardless of what had been hoped.
from the poem Hard (i) by Joy Camburn in response to this post.
Foghorn Leghorn
dissociative phrases slip in and out
foggy dew, fog lifted, foghorn, leghorn. ;)
creative buzz,
cackling energy welling
glad to be free.
free of the fog. there it is again,
chase the pent up rush.
ideas in a fuss,
hear the thrush! now focus. crisp.
clear, feel the clarity, contrasty,
images, razor sharp, like a knife.
now soft, fluid like water.
oh bother. chase the convolution
harry it like a cat and his mouse
or a bird and his prey
wait. where was i again?
– 12/3/09 – 1
Longing
a smile played on her face
aching, and lovely
a dusky room and warm
glowing red from tungsten
my desire is eager,
cloying, lingering
and when i wake, it hurts
New Love
i felt the swift and sudden drop
so eager, engaged, and desiring
but also the slow and sober thought
that she matters more to me than self
-4/7/08
Last Breath of Winter
The scent of spring was on the air this morning
Breathing deep a sigh after the rain
White blossoms on the dogwood are breaking
And the indigo tinge of magnolias
Signal the last breath winter
Solace
the rain fell softly
while the choir sang of snowflakes
and the mournful music washed
over his lonely soul
Conversation
my dreams linger lightly on the wispy wimple
of the silver softness of my pillow
as i remember brightly the fine and fickle
flurry of the early evening hours
i will greet the morning, and the blushing brightness
of the subtle sunlight as it creeps across the floor
while i linger in the longing of the prior evening
thinking of the time i spent with her
Counterpoint
She is a song.
not the weaker,
but more fragile,
softer, sweeter
counterpoint:
to my melody
Anna Mae Thompson
she was strong
brooking no obstacle
as a woman and a daughter
a sister, a wife, and a mother
she loved her family
giving without sparing
wise, determined, deeply caring
by breath and unshaking faith
she was my grandmother
loving and deeply proud
leaving a legacy of grace
hope born of faith and love
Dusk
Softly the yellow dusk
Descended on the skyline
And golden light reflected
On the puddle after rain
Blood, Fire and Vapour
Blood, fire and vapour
Signs above and below
Wonders in heaven and earth
Darkness, and a blood moon
His Spirit poured out
His servants declaring
The great and notable day
His day, the day He comes
The day we are saved
If we call upon His name
– acts 2:18-21
I Am A Song
i am a song written in minor key
the rise and fall, the dance beside the deep
the melancholy surge, the tantalizing leap
the bright and bittersweet relation
a life of rhyme and reason
The Scent of Spring
the scent of spring was on the air this morning
breathing deep a sigh after the rain
white blossoms on the dogwood are breaking
and the indigo tinge of magnolias
signal the last breath of winter
For Love
My God, my God, He cried
As He suffered alone, dying
On a cross, a broken tree
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani
Forsaken, for love, for me