Wind-Whisper

Wind-Whisper

In the floating of the unseen sinewed string - Wind-Whisper  on point of gentle fingertip leans to pet the shimmering shape hovering beneath the shine of sunrise - and there at the joined juncture of a frantic fervent wish-pack, the smell of frangipani lights the air, filling the would-be-child with the taste of possibility as she falls, fully formed, to paw through the soft air, tumbling celestial-joy-tickled-trick, onto the verdant green of her first born day. 

Thank you Richard Walker for  the words that revealed Wind-Whisper

transported

transported

The records were red

Vinyl I suppose

More like flattened rubies

In velvet lined cases

Or so they seemed

Stacked with precision care

We sat side by side

In the tiny living room

Eyes closed

Impossible violins

Tchaikovsky himself

In our kingdom of crescendo

Walls thrumming in palaced

Perfect echo

There not quite four

melted into his side

Him, that raven haired father

Of the single tear

Always as the final

Music broke over us

And then receded

Leaving only static silent

Crackling in

Pounding heart

Melted by the tsuniamied

Power of

That single

Tear tracking his

Unlined transported

Cheek
Under still closed eyes

And always just then

she called from her

grounded sublime misunderstanding

“Supper’s ready!”
His strong hands trembled
He rose
a signaled sigh

trailing us

as we left 

5 Poems About "One Last Thing"

Send the invitations

to the worms

to come hungry

bring family and

friends to the feast

so that interment

will be short and

return to the earth

to the earth to

flower once again

in whatever

chosen form

quick and

soaring

over the

backs of

fat pink

worms

smiling

in the flower

beds

One lost thing

Where did you have it last?

If I knew that finding would be fast!

Retrace your steps back a while

Why are you smirky with a smile?

Do not think that I can be bossed

What? This prompt is not about… oh not lost?

Okay then just one last thing

Before rushing to write read and careful remembering

German Shepherd On A Metal Table

They need two strong men to

lift your gentle limpid frame

onto gleaming stainless

two young men in respectful

clean khaki jackets

and sad eyes

they take with them

as we wait - just us again

locking eyes

I see you in there

for an instant

that puff balled

pick me pup

first anniversary

present of a dead

marriage

your velvet fur

slips soft still thick

under my frantic fingers

as you breathe deep

and shuddery

and we sink

into lakes of memory

a baby pulls himself up

to stand for the first

time

you fly over an

agility course

you are everywhere

my sweet fierce sentinel

time blurs in starburst

rainbows of fireworks

and sprinklers, ocean

swims and walks

rushes running a river

from my eyes

time melting

as from nowhere

She – white coated

surreal slurs   

"itistime"

holding a sparkling

needle and I

press your majestic head

away, into 

my pounding breast

sobbing one last

self indulgent sigh into your

eyes and then

smile

for you

and I swear you smile back

the light

never leaving

even when she says

you are gone

One Last Time

They pounded her upon her head

with intonations shouting loud as a football cheer

Just push! Just push! Just one last time!

And finally tah-dah! Her son was here!




The Turn - Ode to Peter Falk/Columbo


Waited with bated breath
as he walked always to the door
and then turned in rumpled raincoated
splendor and asked for just one
last question more....

Joy

Joy

In the way of the Craft, the young girl awakens at her anointed hour, thrumming juices, teetering on the subtle slide of Woman to walk the cool passageway in the dim of dawn, stones cold on tender feet her gauge of the rush of rivered time. There in The Windowed Room she walked the prescribed steps, tall, supple, certain, shining, in spilled first light spreading sensuously across the wall of Acumen as she surely selects from breath blown crystal canters of acid, sparkling in sweet sinister surreptition, one, that one, single shimmered beaker of waiting oil, lifts in the circle of slender tapers of her forever forebearer fingers - sprinkled solitary goblets to fall into concentric centered circles, watching with her gazing eye for the arched gnarled foot of the Alchemist appearing at the splat of the final drop, arriving in precise promised punctuality in that sun surged joy soaked room to sweep the sudden swirling filigreed forgettable flotsam of her Innocent's yesterday into the coalesced certainty of her sun spun Tomorrow as light engulfs her nodding now.

fielded

fielded

there she woke filaments

falling from her hair as she rose

elbows hugging knobby knees

and smiled

at the sun

breaking

free 

the songed

the songed

There in the darkened hallways they perilously met singing sacred silent songs

of previous generations, two young girls taking upon their thin backs the lashed

drives of forebearers long gone to carry the sources of ALL to even one OTHER in

perfectly prescribed delivery, their gestures choreographed in drama, each soft

speaking hand sensuously silkily preserving the gentle gestures, passion

pounding without limit, lifting their budding breasts as they clasped each other

in final tight tear-filled parting and hurried off, melting the cold night

leaving small singed footprints on cobbled stones as the only sign of their

inherent mission in the dim weak fire drained dawn that follows forever

listening to catch a single molten note.

In The Shimmering

Inspired by Poets United Thursday Think Tank

In the Shimmering

There in fingered glow of streaked
pomegranate dawn drawn slivered sun
from cerulean sky to horizon aquamarine
drenched in this junctured
perfect union in this instant of
first shining sunshaft born this
single feather filament, floated
from Forever
to Now, sentinel
in the Shimmering

Life of A Poet Interview at Poets United

Well this was very exciting - was interviewed over at Poets United.

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

I am now officially an online windbag :)


Given the extraordinary length Sherry Blue Sky so generously devoted to me there was - ironically - 
no room for a poem so I am reposting "In The Glow" here written for Thursday Think Tank at Poets United during which time I was being interviewed.  








In the Glow

Poets United Thursday Think Tank - Rebirth 3-1-12

In the glow

In the glow

of chaos swirling

from the brush of

butterfly wings

to cataclysm rises

from the confines of

ash behind barbed wired

smokestacks to the

lap of clear aqua waters

on a manicured fingertip

In the glow of chaos swirling

Each to the other connected

Through the tempest of time

Rising from each cindered soul

Floating from buildings terrible

Tumble into bottomless eyes of big bellied

Children's – sunsoaked run in suburban sprinklers

In summer eves that melt into

Arctic airless black

In the glow from

first outraged scream to last shuddered sigh

All that has been, is, and will be

From this besotted bare bone sharded

Unfamiliar landscape whirling in joyous

Confident abandon the constant

Shimmering configuration of a single slivered spark

In the glow  

Accident?

Accident?

In the navied night - weaving through the dappled darkness libation lingers warmly lapping her breast - licking her nipples hard - pounding with whispered wondered memory – of the echoed clink of first fine crystal glittering – of walking into that room of plenty on strong long young legs – of her sacrificed self, toll charged entry under the skeletal hand chill against bared back – of her young manicured nails gleaming lightly on that proud turkey-necked man languidly leering her among them – more than he had any right to touch- beyond any natural right to handle. Memory rippling running as windswept waves – of lacivious heads staring - at her - lithe and suddenly stunning in her still-store-tagged dress. Just two hours agreed, a quick ask for settle in the hallway and now out in the cold navied night, in the dappled moon silvered darkness – that oak tree appearing as scornful sentinel sent confused from its roots to stand witness to her hurtling headlong path – “Trouble?” a voice drifts distantly from Mars dripping into the pooling blood in the navied night as crystal shatters and all fades to undappled certain solid forever black. 

Return to Lumina

Return to Lumina

Go my child
Untouched
Into the blaze
of all that could
have been and
never will come
to be
Go my child
Vanish from
womb to stardust
Back to blazing
Lumina
Source of your
beginning
This Earth too
solid for translucent
transcendent unborn
silvered spirit you
leaving only your
footprint on my heart

Seen

In ephemeral land of misted vagary
Edged shapes root and fly
Above all in rounded lumina
The all seeing silvered eye

In response to - MadKane's call for Limericks Honoring today International Women's Day

1. 
   

   March 8, 2012 at 3:00 am

   
   

   International day of woman it is
   honor by each  her and his
   Remember this day
    no matter which way
   all born from a womb not a whiz 

   Now whizzes essential tis true
   In getting things started on cue
   Yet a shout and a squirt
   Are but a blipped  blurt
   On the landscape that brought you to you 
2. 
   

   March 8, 2012 at 8:33 am

   Was a small bairn less than three
   Fascinated with his mum’s swelling belly
   When he found out a baby was growing inside
   He said with a grinning pure possible pride
   That he’d switch and not a man but a woman he’d be

   The young mum had raised him sweet and so dear
   Without a hint of gender constraining bar here
   Looked at her bright eyed small son
   knew the time had so early begun
   The creative input of father made clear 
3. March 8, 2012 at 8:36 am

   A woman’s hand rocks the cradle - all that
   But wears also on head many a hat
   From draped burka flowed land
   To conducting a band
   A woman is far more off her rocker  than that!

After

In Bed The Kiss, by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

After

After tumbled tangling

They nestle in soft sheets

Ringed fingers

Forgotten in warm flesh

Under cover

Shadow Mama .... and In the Land of Admonish ....

Shadow Mama…

There she comes – coatless -chilled–walk-in-wind hair tousled tumbling into too wide, too white eyes – leaning against that metal reception desk the smell of her night-work  kitchen clinging in her clothes. An earlier turned-away - returned blissfully proudly unaware of the determined downturned mouths – the averted eyes filled with admonish – simply clutching her contracting belly swollen with the persistent fullness of her urgent unmet but already known daughter- and in the quiet of shadow judgment speaks in the clear voice she prefers in their presence insisting only on a single clean woolly blanket from the stacked pile upon which to lie while she waits for life to arrive. 

In the Land of Admonish....

In the Land of Admonish the young girl rises from her closeted corner - 
motherless daughter silently slipping coatless between cold shadows cradling the 
finally unfettered fullness of her hot urgent swollen belly -surrendering the 
night to strangers to return emptied through the still dark kitchen, unshed  
tears  pouring in the protective  privacy she always prefers - taste of metal in 
her scream swallowed mouth, thoughts woolly tangled tumbling in her mind, she 
rests as a tepid dawn trails cool unaware fingers across the awakening forever-
different day

In the glow

Poets United Thursday Think Tank - Rebirth 3-1-12

In the glow

In the glow

of chaos swirling

from the brush of

butterfly wings

to cataclysm rises

from the confines of

ash behind barbed wired

smokestacks to the

lap of clear aqua waters

on a manicured fingertip

In the glow of chaos swirling

Each to the other connected

Through the tempest of time

Rising from each cindered soul

Floating from buildings terrible

Tumble into bottomless eyes of big bellied

Children's – sunsoaked run in suburban sprinklers

In summer eves that melt into

Arctic airless black

In the glow from
first outraged scream to last shuddered sigh

All that has been, is, and will be

From this besotted bare bone sharded

Unfamiliar landscape whirling in joyous

Confident abandon the constant

Shimmering configuration of a single slivered spark

In the glow