Killing with kindness from a dark place
Improvising love forcing a smile on face
Needling white words meant to assure
Greetings heard but not felt not pure
Onyx heart that never skips a beat
From missing spark of love not tenderly
Tears hide behind white winged words
Even narcissist fake kind to be heard
Raping spirits of the blue beautiful ones
Raging you fear it the love of gold sun
Only yesterday gives you any jaded joy
Remembering the good filling a void
Salty as kiss of abyss meant to destroy
Sleep wraps my brain like a pink present
Dreams fly around like a purple pheasant
Not always red realistic nor always pleasant
Perhaps affected when moon is a crescent
Watching dreams as if view yellow star
Wondering if they teal tell who you are
Will life be blessed or a messy sour tart
Whether good or bad messaging heart
Sometimes I wake up to cranberry confess
Hoping to grasp power of dream at best
Inspired to change a view or revisit test
Like it throws candy clue that I must digest
Picking up pen or paper or using cell phone
Sewing together chocolate conscious poem
Needling nagging neon thoughts so strong
Ideas thrill like lavender lullaby silky song
Satisfied with words that tap dance on air
Flying as blue birds from my kinky hair
Soothing my mind able to relax cherry care
Back to sleep I go hosting rem dream’s dare
A smirk ghosts
by torn lips
razored puce
and throbbing wild
to fire a fusillade
of mortar murmurs
armed with fangs
honed in cauldrons
belching molten words
to palsy the gainsay
of jesters
who scarify and behead
bliss.
An enigmatic disruption is a cadence,
it’s that rhythm built only to captivate.
Meant to weed out your comfort zone,
not a drop of this sound is repetitive.
It’s that rhythm built only to captivate
needling you right into goosebumps.
Not a drop of this sound is repetitive,
the breaks echo epiphany with silence.
Needing you right into goosebumps,
something scary that comforts you.
The breaks echo epiphany with silence,
allowing an embrace of a pause.
Something scary that comforts you,
illuminating the solace within quiet.
Allowing an embrace of a pause
this becomes a monumental catalyst.
Illuminating the solace within quiet
meant to weed out your comfort zone.
This becomes a monumental catalyst,
an enigmatic disruption is a cadence.
“When it is obvious that the goals cannot be reached,
don't adjust the goals, adjust the action steps.”
- Quote by Confucius
-------------------------------------------------------------
Human errors
beyond measure
K and A avenue
intersection
smoking hurt
needling pain
losing love of live
living addicted
people mistreating
people mistreated
unconscious youth
forgetful leaders
ruptured vein
dying humanity
homeless theories
weighed hopes
failed lot
lots failed
Every doorway is well lit yet barred and locked.
This is my dream body, it is chasing its twilit shadow
down blind alleyways
pausing only to heave breathlessly
as it comes to a stop
in yet another walled-off cul-de-sac.
Daylight couples slyly with moonlight,
it forms a vaporous union that creeps under skin,
We are two hands and a mouth,
weak hands scratching upon a lid of fear.
We call such mind-hauntings: nightmares,
yet they seem so very real
as we fretfully slumber -
then they chase us remorselessly
through our daily lives.
Why record such fantasies,
these myriad variations of horror?
Why relive the frights, the needling frets
of these subconscious ghost trains - images
that fly through all our darkly hidden spaces.
Perhaps only to share an elusive puzzle-picture,
to reach into other sequestered minds
that may experience the same
other-worldly hinterlands, the same fear-threads,
and there know we are crisscrossing
the same unidentifiable landscapes
all of us have created for ourselves.
Happy pumpkins
Apple dumplings
Licorice sticks
Lollipops to lick
Owls hooting
Witches looting
Emerald city dreams
Every Halloween
Needling together fun things
Needling thoughts being bewitched
Heart of art revealed in telestich
Ending letters of a poem
Stringing me along
Despite my rights my wrongs
Singing me like a song
Dreaming me into the unknown
Lost in reality of the aftermath
Soft fatality of paisley past
How all seems lost when looking back
How things once small grew tall and vast
Carefree times of childhood days alast
Forgetting tangerine tears lemon laughs
Telestich my heart with fragile warning tags
Bring me your art be it fiction or fact
Gifted golden pen drenched in
Emerald emancipating elegance
Regal red reverie so daring
Sending me singing thinking or dreaming
Humble humorous and socially conscious
Onyx thoughts that hold on to us
Needling patches together so clever
Souls fed by his poetic endeavor
Praying for peace with pen
Engaging his fellow men
Noble and kind gentleman
Sun rays slide across your face
Inviting silhouette artistic shades of love
Needling fingers plats a braid
Girl dad doing her hair not a fad
Little rituals she enjoys
Emerald ribbons matching joy
Doing all tasks of mom
And those of a daddy
Definitely a hero to your kids
(Title taken from Sara Etgen-Baker)
In this little island before my house
I hear not a sound not even a mouse
muted trees of valor stand still in grace
I think I almost won the race
Tracks of history live here on this island
I recall the day you took me by the hand
nearer to forever I feel so content
no leaf is stirring inside this tent
A silent symphony plays on in my head
needling my heart like pliable soft thread
In this little island before my house,
I hear not a sound not even a mouse.
You capture me with your radiant smile
Hearty bold laugh impassive and vexing
Little grey hairs in your barely there beard
Needling your chocolate chin for years
Your artistic style and fashion sense
In a suit that could pay purple rent
Of course you write and to my delight
You include me in the story of your life
DREAM BIG, NEXT TIME, DREAM BIGGER.
CAPITAL BITTER HILL GURU BEAST.
CAMILLE IS NOW A STATE OF MIND.
MEG, PEG, SLAY IT'S A DIFFERENCE.
DON'T PUNISH THE PRISIONERS, AND
OUR ART OF WAR, POLITICAL PRIZZI'S HONOR.
NEXT TIME PEG HAVE A LEG HERO.
DESPICABLE US, DOUBLE DARE, SECOND
CHANCE AT LIFE. STAY WITH THE ANN LIVELY,
MINORITY REPORT.
SUNG SHI GU FU.
PEG'S NAME ON A MEDALLION.
MATTER STAYED BLACK.
PEGASUS LIVES ON, WHAT OUR DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE.
BE MINDFUL AND THOUGHTFUL WITH WORDS PEG.
NEEDLING OF THE RICHTER SCALE, BALANCING THE THREAD.
EQUILIBRIUMS ADJUSTED INTO FALLEN TEETH.
PEG MISS PEARLIE CROWNED WITH GOLD.
ENTANGLING THE WAY THE ROOT GROWS.
Crisscrossing streets in a city landscape
a place where the mind panics
wanting to be found
or to find, or not be lost within.
Every doorway is well lit yet barred and locked.
This is my dream body, it is chasing its twilit shadow
down blind alleyways
pausing only to heave breathlessly
as it comes to a stop
in yet another walled-off cul-de-sac.
Daylight couples slyly with moonlight,
it forms a vaporous union that creeps under my skin,
I am two hands and a mouth (not my own yet)
scratching upon a lid of fear.
Why record such fantasies?
Why relive the minor horrors, the needling angst
of subconscious ghost trains - images
that fly through darkling places.
Perhaps only to share an illusive puzzle-picture
to reach into other sequestered minds
that just may experience the same
other-worldly hinterland
and there know we are crisscrossing
the same unidentifiable cityscape.
She walked
Through the forest
Alone but never lonely.
The moonlight shards
Reaching between the trees,
Needling through to the ground.
Silent but for her bare feet
On the forest floor,
Leaves crisp and dry.
The slight warmth
Radiating from the ground
Penetrating her soles, her soul.
The scent, must emanating.
The bracket fungus clinging
Tight to the fallen giants.
Trees taken by mighty light,
When rain covered the floor
And the sky rang with thunder.
As she walked slowly on
Approaching a clearing
The moon shone bright.
Turning her face to absorb
the energy needed for the month
And once more she was fulfilled.
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