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Saturday, January 26, 2013

in the mist



Lake Louise Mist by Andrea Schafthuizen





in the mist 


from the fallen book, pages flutter in the mist,
chimes scatter as wisps of straw in raw wind
as the child lies curved in sleep around the
tattered edge of his mother’s skirted hem
swollen lips lifted in sweet smiled sleep – 
as the chimes, the chimes, coalesce and carry
them clear -  past the sooted mirror of today
into the vast possibility of tomorrow
shimmering as light bounces joyfully from
golden scale to golden scale on
the gleaming body of mystic Ilsebill’s fish
rising, regal, real and majestic from a cerulean sea
listening 
to each innocent, exhaled breath 
each unwhispered wish 
about to be fulfilled 







Media Poem for dVerse Poets Pub



Photo by DBDuoPhotos at dVerse 

While You Were Gone

We talked
We touched
We slid melting
Ice cubes over
Sweat slick thighs
While you were gone
We danced barefoot
To the little radio
In the kitchen
Naked
Ate chocolate chip
Cookies and licked
Crumbs off our faces
Together
While you were gone
We laughed
Softly and hard
As the light fell
We sat face to
Face and fingered
Eyelashes
Until
With an unwarning whir
You returned
In blaze of light and
Blaring voice
And caught us
In reimpowered
Sixty inch eye
Shamed separate
we covered ourselves
And resumed
Our silent watch
Power restored




This poem was published in the current issue 65 January 2013 of BurningWord

Sunday, January 20, 2013

for the love - attempt 3




for the love 



for the love of art
each cell knocks
against another
sticky with yearning
pearls before swine
bone beneath plump skin
linen crisp and white
floating diaphanous filaments
in the air
at the call 
need sharp as unslaked
thirst in a desert sere
the charge to create
for the love

for the love
of art 







Saturday, January 19, 2013

Beware






Beware


beware the call of skin
each sticky cell
but filaments of remembered bone
sticky as molasses dripped on linen
gathering form as strung pearls 
distinct and clear as knocks at a door
opening 
under the charge of that first hot kiss
beware the call of skin shimmering each
pounded breath of new-found air