In deepest memory
my mind escapes
to places yet journeyed
undreamed they await
In deepest memory
the future untold
awaiting unbeckoned
—the next bell to toll
(Dreamsleep Tribute To Laura Nyro: March, 2023)
The places I’ve been
all part of me now,
roadmaps of intention
tracking landscapes endowed
The history I’ve written
covers chapter and verse,
of promises made
and commitments diverse
The road ever widens
my scope narrows down,
the past out of focus
leaving town after town
Tomorrow unbeckoned
I search for today,
the future unreckoned
—the moment in play
(The New Room: March, 2021)
water
murmurs softly,
through the cool of exhaled
breath, against the stones it whispers,
secrets
secrets,
gently spoken,
lonely unbeckoned words,
hidden deep within broken hearts,
aching
aching,
melting sorrow
pours viscous and endless,
caressing emotions that hide
within
within
this emptiness
sprouts the seed of desire,
where blooms love’s flower, bathed in sweet
water
04/01/2018
Left out in the cold. A pale rose on the road. An ice cold sun high above.
No end in sight. No road markers, no mile stones. Just endless black
stretching out. A serpent laying across the land. Splitting it, cleaving it in two
Hard, cold, unforgiving. This serpent, this road. A wind stirs. A wind blows.
It whistles then roars. Acrossed an empty landscape. Making objects move
as if alive. From where it comes. To where it goes. It is endless. A sudden
it is there. Uncalled for unasked, unbeckoned. It shows up. To accompany
the dark serpent. To stroke its rigid back. To never be caught. Never be seen
Just felt. Crawling across your skin. Down your back. Over your face
Scuttling into cracks and crannies. Moving on. Never to be caught or stilled
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