Long Gloaming Poems

"As other spirits sail on music, mine, oh my love, swim on your perfume." Charles Baudelaire

"Sometimes you find an old bottle from which the soul returns." 
Charles Baudelaire

"Smell is a Word. Perfume is Literature."

"There are...

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"Peace in the Nowhere"

Ghosts remain in this place
they read their words 
marked each day on walls
like prayers, it gives them
peace in the nowhere

someplace relevant to go

Ghosts commune in this place
disowned long ago or walked
off the...

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"Dream 1: 4 Weeks in Positano"



Kisses long linger warm lips tasted intense
so sweet like cured Valencia Oranges
lips liquored triple sec not dry drunk on love
softly grazed, then held long

slow, deep, warm and wet

The story is...

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"Christmas in the Cathedral of the Forest Deep"




The silent heart is found 
embedded in the 
Cathedral of 
The Forest Deep

The lost jewel
shines in the dark
see the reflection of emerald eyes
endless hazel woods scried

On Christmas Eve
when...

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* For J.K. Rowling *

                 ~ 

now, deliberate your hearing
     to bring back the pages...

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"The In-Between"

I ripped the pages of 
that tired old story 
from the heart, a body of work

buried the misdiagnosed slanders
then wiped their mouths
with the back of my spoon

the feed they found,
passed the disingenuous time;
some found...

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In glamor-light of sunset
a new crowd of cumulus clouds arrive
and revive a sepia sky-scene—
unworldly woolgatherers gather
spinning fantasy fluff into quixotic yarns
of debutantes dancing with honeymoon hunger;
their dewy eyes blurred by the sawdust of stardust

pseudo-princess-pleasure-seekers
—drama daring...

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One Hit Wonder
Another night, another song, another legion showcase

Some friendly folk just out for fun, an acoustic disgrace.

It's little cash, but lots of fun spinning discs on weekends

I play a few and sit and watch...

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"House of lies, pride and bone, 
The gauzy instability in my augmentation, I feel the hostility commence deep into my lanes. I prom in the masquerade of the mirror and cannot identify myself as an...

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The weeds have sheathed the garden from its care as more nails than wood appear of a house lacking adjectives. A sun liberated from scathing entrapment amongst an overburdened forest whose boughs are heavily laden...

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Do not vainly look in those remote
Places,
That, once, were acquainted with a 
Small part of me;                   ...

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A stretched gloaming tethers creation in a 
U - - U || U UUt U U - || U - X
daystar's wake ... askew parts The Old Guitarist 
U U - || U UUt -...

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"betwixt the pulse of our heartbeat
simply present, head-heart linking
dwelling in time stretched blissful peace
awareness became unblinking" ~Unseeking Seeker

I feel the surging bloom of bewitching butterflies,
fluttering in sync to cosmic sage and
saffron sparks~
sailing amidst waves of...

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I was a skillful, amiable nursery worker, cultivating blooms in a greenhouse,
Like feverish and fragrant blooms, often grown in redbird's green treehouse.

Hours were spent sowing seeds, adjusting conditions, and also and pruning,
As June full moon...

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I’m lost within words 
   unwritten between 
     pastel pages of the past, 
Yet I weave lyrical love 
   for my sun 
in shimmering shades
  ...

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"50 Words for Poe: camera obscura"



The Night Flower 
turns in her bed
in a dark room
stories of wraiths 
like flies buzzing in her head
and blood-sucking bugs that bite
Rippers and lovers dead
come to collect her from her
ornery...

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"50 Words for Poe: Revenant"


Everywhere he looks for Her his melancholic Ghost Girl
does our lachrymose ignoble Phantom in his own thunder storm


In the Wind Song he listens
Her elusive whispers hail from another dimension 
echolocation through...

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The problem is her lips.
They don't form smiles any more than waves decide of their own accord 
to lift themselves up off of the ocean's surface.
And if lips are meant to be drowsy shutters
then hers...

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O singing
strings of my violin heart
  let the vibrant breeze
      of mellifluous air
        embrace your deep rosewood skies 
   ...

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When nature wilts into 
                  a colorless haven, 
metaphors of death sprout 
     ...

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"Dirt Road to Hill End"



a midnight drive 
the chauffeur sings soft dreams
before the child in time arrives
a dream not even borne 
a silent second sideways smile, magic,
minutiae missed in the authoress' mind

the stars reflecting
in the...

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I was a daydreamer and stargazer, who eagerly awaited calm nights of glitter,
Like blue skies warily turning pink, plum and red, as orange sun sinks, bitter.

I grew familiar with diverse constellations, along the different astral...

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I forgive the stars sleeping in nothingness,
             too afraid to embrace eclipsed spheres….. 

In the midst of sweltering gloaming,  
I ascend, obscured...

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The campaign …
was over -
he, the last left alive on the
field of battle, and barely, at that …
his men had fought valiantly -
the odds were never theirs,
yet he was content in
their efforts, and more than...

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“Chasing Ghosts in Cars” 

Like automata
we walk inside 
winding up the stairs

it’s all mechanical
the romance 
programmed

by steep degrees 
in the 
well-routined

we can walk 
through walls
anywhere

to look out 
our windows 
towards the better view

each cell in...

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