Gathering fantasies over here
Warm holiday books feat setting near
Stomping crimson red grapes
Imagining romantic fate
Characters dreaming of cupid's spear
Dragged through a valley of aching hopes,
A fountain of dreams mesmerized my soul.
My precious being flung toward heaven's gate,
That's how it felt when our eyes first met.
My destiny was to chase you in every pursuit,
You, the rhythm that makes my heart beat true.
Pulsing through me as our days grow old,
A timeless bond, more priceless than gold.
On a drive I saw two arches of color
Two arches of color of such brilliance as to bring joy to the heart
Two arches of color striving to meet each other in the middle
Two arches striving but never meeting
A sadness of the moment or a hope that they will someday meet
Better to see the moment and look forward for when they meet
For time doesn’t stop and neither should we.
I know you think you’re to blame
but you didn’t ask for this name
in years to come, the monster is muted
you’re afraid of late nights, raised voices and fights but one day that all stops and it’s all left behind
They’ll tell you can’t, won’t give you a chance and in the end you prove them all wrong
but take caution with change and tighten those reigns because where you end up, that’s not where you belong
Yes, you exceed every expectation
but it’s at the cost of your own elation
much of your struggle is birthed from your creation
you become a bullet train that gets lost at the station
Every word they say, I know it crushes your day but you’ll figure it out in your own complex way
growing older you’ll learn, the ailments we earn come at us straight out of the blue
you’ll find yourself seething from all the halo cleaning with everything you go through
Above all, I must say
there are brighter days but darker ones are still to come
you have what it takes to reach those high stakes and still now, it has only begun
A goodbye happened before hello,
in some twisted loves, you just know.
I knew it was over before it even began,
suffocated by the calloused hands of a man.
I only saw your eyes in passing,
only one glimpse, and I knew they were worth having.
A goodbye was the very start,
the kind that ruins you in its poetic art.
I didn’t need to know your story.
I watched, noted the places you like to hang out,
you in all your glory.
I stalked for months, had all kinds of fun.
It’s a pity you didn’t when I told you to run.
I liked your bubbly charisma.
I played into it with charm.
You didn’t know all I wanted was to cause you harm.
I tricked you, said I knew your friend,
but when the lights went out, limp and alone,
you knew by the end.
I’m a psycho, a natural-born killer.
I’ve added you to my collection,
in which I’ve labelled thriller.
I said goodbye before hello.
You were pretty, a blonde,
and you didn’t even know.
The giant gray marine squamate, the mosasaur
Called lizard of the Meuse River, forevermore
Some think you are extinct, but I know differently
I met you Wednesday in the Magellan Sea
The hallway to enter a leftover room.
Loud and soft spoken at the same rate.
Echoes.
Eyeballs.
Fidgeting so much that a nail popped off.
Clink.
This meeting is a place for loud pitter patter.
We tear out the old wiring, gruffly.
Plug into the system as if we are alive with twisted cords.
Chapped lips.
This meeting is grungy, complicated, teeth chattering.
It’s cold as a diver submerged in the ocean.
Took my scarf off in a daze.
They took attendance as silently as stale water.
She stands in the field,
white daisies gather at her ankles,
small moons of their own
glowing in the hush.
Butterfly wings
rest easy on her back~
not bright, not loud,
but tender things,
the kind grown
from wonder rather than magic.
The moon rises behind her,
a quiet lantern
lifting its silver breath
into the sky.
Its glow folds around her shoulders,
softening the edges
of everything she is.
A dragonfly lands
on her fingertips,
light as a held thought.
Its wings shimmer
with a secret kind of blue,
the color of trust.
She does not move.
She only looks~
and the dragonfly looks back,
their eyes meeting
in that small, perfect silence
where understanding needs
no language at all.
The daisies lean in,
petals lifted,
as if the field itself
can feel the first flutter
of something beginning.
The moon glows softly,
holding its quiet vigil~
watching a girl
and a dragonfly
share, for one resplendent heartbeat,
the same moment.
Moonbeam was a throwback to the seventies
with her blue jean jacket with patches of honeybees
there were daisies in her hair, it was loose and free
Reminding me of how grand life was in seventy-three
Moonbeam was named by her grandma Tee
A woman who back in the day ran with me
I was thrilled to meet Moonbeam, she was such a delight
I told her stories about her grandmother into the night
He met her on a plane from San Francisco to Des Moines
Why and how she mesmerized him, he could not possibly coin
She was the best listener he had ever had and kind too
the crush he had on her was incredibly intense in ninety-two
Thirty-three years since he said goodbye to her that day
Never saw her again after a taxi whisked her away
Did not get her number, but never forgot her smile
Every song he wrote was about her after awhile
An unrequited love that would have surprised her
She has a kind heart that is incredibly pure
He wonders sometimes if she ever thinks of him
His memories of her have never flickered or dimmed.
You have heard of shenanigans, right?
we were introduced to shenani-goats tonight
they romped and jumped and butted our behinds.
ruthlessly rambunctious, rough, not in any way kind.
Do we have to come back? Asked my child, Hue.
His bottom and legs were now black and blue.
They aren’t trying to be bad, my sister said.
An opportunity for a shenani-goat to butt her in the head.
I’m drifting in a sky of snow
and swooping, whooping overhead.
You don't believe I'm real, I know.
I’m drifting in a sky of snow
and glaring, scaring you below.
It's just a myth, I heard you'd said.
I’m drifting in a sky of snow
and swooping, whooping overhead.
Thanks to Andrea for the pronunciation hint - LOL, I was pronouncing this form as rhyming with violet!!!
who has seen the flamingo quartet?
This was asked of me by a stranger not met
I thought he was nutty until a bit later
For I encountered the quartet in the elevator
They were all excited, outside finally from their state
We sing jazz and pop they told me; I whispered great.
Want us to sing you a tune? I had nowhere to go.
They sang me to death; that elevator was way too slow.
we are at a fat women of the world meeting in NYC
the others have as much weight to take off as me
I am comfortable with these heifers immediately
Bet most of them can beat my two hundred and three
If I lost twenty pounds one told us
I could outrun my grandson little gus
If I lost forty pounds, I would be at my wedding weight
Said an old lady who lied and said her name was Kate
If I lost a hundred and fifty pounds
I would be happy as both of my large hounds
I threw this out of my mouth before I thought a bit
The rest of them laughed as if I had an enormous wit
"I'll give you the world,
But what will you do with that glimpse?"
Divinity provided many times,
Before I was ready and again needed to shift.
Not punishment...but instilled a yearning for wholeness,
Which would break again to layer in the new.
Our capacity expands as we embrace the fractals,
Or lies stagnant when we hold onto a precious few.
The Kindest have that darkness,
The safety mechanisms of the mind.
Reverted back to what felt familiar and remembered,
The parts mirrored of me that was to scared to shine.
Which requires a first step,
Maybe ten, stumbling the entire time.
Suddenly those muscles recognise the movement,
Sprinting faster and now in a straight line.
Who I am, will be who I once was,
Also who I was meant to become, before.
Learning when to rest and when to run,
Understanding the root, that feeling of unsure.
Vulnerability is a necessity,
Leading in deep lessons along the way.
Choosing warmth not kindness,
Loneliness over pain,
Meeting myself, again and again.
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