~ my open body, amongst other things, a graveyard for phantoms and fossils.
~ i hold between my finger and thumb the clouds that trap your thoughts.
~ i pledge allegiance to the day and night and the love in between;
~ worship the saints (mine, not His) that line the windowsill and romance my animal heart.
~ i receive letters typed in cryllic script and remember the day the river burst it's banks.
~ i (lose and then) find myself threading a rosary; memories set in amber.
~ possessed by a wild curiosity about the intricacies of the hearts of strangers,
~ i listen to you speak of the movement of wings - butterflies in your stomach.
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4 comments:
"possessed by a wild curiosity about the intricacies of the hearts of strangers,"
this sentence describes me
and your poem intrigues me because of that
i really wish we `d meet one day
Inspirational; invitation to our Inside World. Thank you!
I keep returning to see new work but then re-read this one and it has so much that it is like a new work very time. I appreciate your writing so much and am glad to have found it.
music with char-
acters, lead types
light as feather,
a word you felt
changed the co-
lour of another's
morning. i hear
your brush touch
canvas, i hear a
dash, a pause, a
dead blue pause,
a van gogh green,
swirling stars,
rain of words,
a thought, a
line, red sand
dunes, empty ink
bottles, scribbled
sheets read by
the wind, letters
to the earth, to
the sun, to the
day & her night,
painting with
words you are,
mysterious im-
possible friend,
i hope you're
well, so dis-
tant that you're
close, words like
rings in water,
water like free
flowing prose,
like trees by
a lake, by
highland hills
still in slumber,
still for a while,
just for a while,
turning side...
frost biting windows,
spring still sleeps.
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