we merge ...
I, rooted in your core
pushing up as you press down -
never deep enough …
supine, you on knees above
I reach up -
weave my fingers thru silken strands
and gently guide your head
down toward me …
( moondrops in your eyes … sighs )
sweet tresses fall between us as
our mouths melt together -
tongues playing their own game
soft like bubblegum …
I swim up the river to your soul
to that place indescribable
warm and dark …
( maelstrom of desire … afire )
we are so melded that
I almost feel alone ...
lonely, but in the sense of being US
and one …
I could let go my spirit there ...
without fear or regret or contemplation
I could stay forever on those
shores, in joy -
lost in our union and that
ethereal embrace …
( selves spun a-bliss … whispers )
but …
it is far too precious for those ends -
too exquisite and rare
all for the sake of how momentary
and blessed for the sake
of how perfect …
how passionately and
imperfectly ...
perfect.
(edit)
"If you could say it in words
there would be no reason
to paint”.
Edward Hopper
..............
I could be a figure
inside an Edward Hopper painting -
alone, sitting on a bench seat
in a park, deep in the solitude
of a disconnected world.
The moment is framed in silence,
pulled tight across the morning
like a stretched canvass
waiting for a brush to press down
and set the taut still trembling.
But there is no shadow
poised above, no brush in a hand,
just an empty sky that seems
to go on forever, spilling beyond
the picture and into nowhere.
I wish I could escape
the framed boundaries
of this artwork, to stand back
and see the same perspective
that was used to paint me.
Sun up you're up time's up get up
light on paste on brush up brush down brush all around
chin up shave up wash up wipe up you're out
kids up mom's not
suit up tie on press down the thumb go-round
then down back up flip down to pull knot-up
turn-round looks-round grin up aplomb all done
drive on downtown park up lockdown press up
look-round liked sound work bound all-round
onto a room, found pot a brewed on two
drop up on top the cup a brewed
a tongue go-round fresh ground abound go all
around or down more down but not the ground
looks-round clock found heads down aground
looks-round, and found, holds-up brewed cup
time's up fun's done work bound must run
had fun all done kids off yes Hon what's up
we've a meeting at ten--not again, I said, no Xbox--thought 'twas for me ... oh is it any wonder?
To all who are among us
I bid you all farewell
as the lid press down the eye
another story tell.
Drift me to a meadow
at peace the ever last
where all the times of sorrow
rest only in the past.
Judge me by mistake,
for who does wear the crown?
Win or lose the game
the dice have rolled me down.
As the end is final
and all begins anew.
Whether inch or mile,
love travels back to you.
Adieu to those who loved me.
Why must this slip bereave?
This part of what was lent me,
is all I have to leave.
I felt the weight on the covers press down
under nothing but darkness
with nothing but something beside me
the air was not all mine, I alone
still nothing but something disturbing
SIRENS
Finally my blood began to coagulate.
I woke to the sound of sirens,
Someone’s in trouble,
Hope they’re all right.
Force reluctant eyelids apart
And see … nothing.
Blink, blink, blink -
And through a fog
Broken glass.
Try to move.
Legs trapped, numb.
Someone’s sitting on my bed?
Reach down,
Leg hot and sticky.
A distant voice,
“I’m Dave, a paramedic.
Have to stop the blood.
Press down on this.”
More sirens.
“Fire service
Here to cut you free.”
Sharp scratch,
“Keep pressing.”
And finally ….
Sitting astride a frozen mountainside,
eighty others waiting their turn to go,
on the slope blue and red gates a path scribe,
a man says, “racer ready;” so they know.
An hour passed, now it’s my turn to ski,
explode out of the gate with a kick-start,
frozen ruts are what I find greeting me,
muscles press down to absorb impacts hard,
frantic minute, a forward-moving fight,
the scrape of ice, gates flying past my face,
come faster still, can barely stay upright,
you win or fall, there is no second place.
Cross the line, frustration at the results,
tenths of a second leaves you in the cold.
To learn to be grateful,
to me means to be humbled.
Life has a funny way,
of doing exactly as they say,
have gratitude
and you will receive in magnitude,
lessons on life that hold true.
I have faith in you.
Watch as I stumble,
hear me roll and rumble,
like thunder I am heard,
as I look to the skies
my vision is blurred,
by the mistakes that litter my path,
I can feel other's wrath.
Drop me to my knees
and show me all there is to see.
Take my will and my life
and humble me.
Take my faults of character,
take my hand as I walk down this corridor,
as the path grows smaller,
be my scholar.
Guide me towards trading my pride
for going along with the ride.
As I'm knocked down,
I let go of my crown.
I'm no longer queen of this place,
I've traded silk and lace,
for a new way to feel,
press down on the seal.
I have changed,
no longer caged,
by pride and pain.
steel mill smoke stack
anvil and hammer
my will for sure
sprinkle the cotton
hot steam on my face
press down hard
don't beak the board
chore of the sixties
A sign on the gate read,
“No Democrats Allowed” –
Here no more debate, an
arrow pointing to an
elevator, “Democrats
Please Press Down” – not
one retrievable soul could
Peter find in the Democrat
Lost And Found: all votes
having been Forensically
Counted, Heaven's Golden
Rule, a thunderous voice they
heard cry out, “God Ain't No
Doting Fool!” –
There's a push in my pen
a coax in my keyboard
A prod 'cross my fingers
a poke 'top my brain
Each sentence hides muscles
nudging stanzas to bustle
One poem's done, here comes the next
press down on the keys, produce the text
Press down on the pen
the pen shatters
ink splatters
That poem in your head
deserves to be read
restraint matters
Pen I lay thee down
you're in a cluttered pile
beside my crystal crown
you're ink I won't defile
I promise to restore your pride
with valor strength and flair
I'll put my paper by your side
you'll be warm in there
Though later you'll be hidden
hitherto beneath my gain
my dear friend overridden
drenched by a coffee stain
I'll pick you up and brush you off
and press down once again
if absence comes to boff
the chaos has set in
I suffer to create
what I cannot seem to find
if you don't relate
thank God to content your mind
For you are not forgotten
overlook my trusty plot
you have been blessed by the Begotten
forgive me pen to nought
Alarmed finally, after the Jersey bull
Placed its head against my belly
Started to press down the way I might
Try to push away some dread
Like the one that was heaving through
My chest, resembling acid reflux I guess
My fiancé saved me from the bull
Kicking him none too gently in the nose
As he pulled me away from his terse form
And toward his own more affectionate hug
Gratefully, I fell into his embrace
And sighed a hint of relief through
Clenched, panicked lips of dismay
Soft black leather
tight formfitting
curving about you
holding you firm
padded leather wheel
vibrating lightly
is slightly damp hands
in tight corner turns
clutch pedal in
right hand shifter grasps
quick sharp throw
going down
eyes judge the line
fitting the curves flow
arcing down in
driving faster out
quick sharp chirping
rubber on asphalt slips
adrenaline thrills through
breaths hard gasped
gravity presses back
pedal smoothly press down
wheel easing off
line straightens out
engine roar grows deep
sharply racing now
curving softly out
next line seen ahead
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