sin titulo

Al dejar de quererte se debilitaran mis
Raices,
El desden de otra noche buscara su
Justificacion
Y llorara el alma detrás de las ventanas
Grises—
Al dejar de quererte se hundiran mis
Pomolos,
Mi lecho se volvera otono sin color
Ni una alegre cancion,
Y no se cambiaria la hoja de mi
Calendario—
Al dejar de quererte se cansara el corazon
De vivir,
La felicidad tendra que ser presa de la
Consternacion,
Y se escucharan las cadenas de mi
Lento morir—
Al dejar de querete se deslizaran mis
Fuerzas
Como la hoja marchitada del invierno
Sin compasion,
Y me arrimare al frio como su amiga y
Su mejorHuespeda--
Al dejar de quererte crucificare la virtud
Esperanza,
Callare las notas de amor que tocaban
Con emocion
Y cerrare las puertas del Creer con espada y
Una lanza—
Al dejar de quererte aplaudaran los ateos
Del Amor,
Habra fiesta con los diablos que moran sin
Inspiracion
Y el cielo desmayara en un huracan lleno
De dolor!

VEN

“Ven”

¡Ven!
Quitate la camisa de tus pesares,
Tus zapatos de procupaciones y
Tu reloj que no marca ningun bien…
¡Ven!
Quitate el cinturon de tus fracasos,
Tus medias de mil cansansios y
Tu anillo de esclavitud y desden…
¡Ven!
Quitate el pantalon de tu dolor,
Que quedes libre de la moneda de este mundo
Y desnudo a la fiebre de quien
Te quiere vestir con solo una pieza—su amor.
¡Ven!
¡Ven!
¡Ven!

“!Ay, Esas Ganas!”

“!Ay, Esas Ganas!”

Voy a dejarte con las ganas, aquellas que
Suenan como suspiros detrás de las paderes,
Las que se acomulan en los poros y respiran
Cuando las miradas se juntan entre dos seres…

Esas ganas que secluyen al mundo de afuerra
Y se refugian en la jungla de lo salvaje,
Cazando como el leon a su leona agachada
Y revolcandose entre la yierba con corraje!

Te voy a dejar con las ganas, aquellas que
Hacen dos corazones convertirse en solo uno,
Las que hacen a la mujer morderse los labios
Y el hombre desear morderselos en conjunto…

Esas ganas que hacen sudar por anticipacion
Y se revelan al verse tan cerca pero tan lejos,
Queriendo tocar su rodilla de blanco marfil
Y restringiendose como todo caballero!

Voy a dejarte con las ganas, aquellas que
Acarician y aprietan y te dejan la boca fria,
Las que te elevan el pulso y te enrojesen,
Agarrandote sin aviso ninguno en sus garras!

Esas gana que no te dejan vivir sin pensar
Lo que hicieras bajo un techado de regias
Donde el sol viera dos pares de brazos y piernas
Moliendo un sabroso café sin cafetera!

Te voy a dejar con las ganas, aquellas que
Alumbran las esperanzas que un dia murieron,
Las que enfuriese tu presente sin remedio
Y te dejan entre el odio, el amor y obssesion…

Esas ganas que debelitan los morales viejos
Poniendo todo al pendiente y confusion,
Las que te despiertan en medio de la noche
Y quisieras olvidarte de tu reputacion!

Voy a dejarte con las ganas, aquellas que
Te hacen sentir como Quijote, Nervo y Lorca,
Repitiendo un nombre como una pesadilla
Que pegas en contra como el mar bravo a la roca…

Esas ganas que te hacen pedirle perdon a Dios
Pero sin arrepentirte como el hipocrita.
Las que te prometan un infierno en el mas alla
Pero la gloria aquí—pura locura—un soka-tira!

“A Conversation with Thomas”

“A Conversation with Thomas”

Heavenly bells rang to the bottom of the hill,
Across the silence you left behind—
The planes flew right over our willow-bent heads
As we quietly laid you to rest—
My voice shook like the falling leaves and
I swallowed the cold air that blew a rhyme,
A song to your sweet and gentle name,
The name your mother heard in a dream’s breath.

Mother wept as she felt the hard earth that would
Embrace you until she holds you again—
And I, clasping my hands, praying the Spirit’s voice
To fill my soul, blessed your little grave—
The wind chilled my skin but light burst from
Within, for truths I once only welcomed,
Accepting in faith like a child but now having it
Upon my heavy heart engraved.

Family and friends from both sides of the veil
Stood near as sentinels of Love and Light—
Some wept your departure and some your return,
For you’re loved by angels and mortals—
Time and death are our measuring rods
While you hold Eternity in your gentle eyes;
But God has promised through His Son’s perfect
Gift you’d be ours at Life’s closing portals.

My son, my little one, I do not weep in grief
But in gratitude for your choosing Mom and me—
For honoring us with your greatness and strength,
Your purity, which calls us all back “Home”—
Do not forget us as we cannot forget you,
Whisper your love as your name we’ll often speak.
And son, embrace your mom each Mother’s Day
As she alone carried you like sweet Mary’s own.

* a tribute to Carl and Emily Sandquist for their greatness and strength, for their understanding and love for their little son Thomas which they shared with me in a sacred manner. These are thought and feelings I believed Carl had as he dedicated Thomas’ plot of earth.

I hope it is not disrespectful to either one of you Sandquist.

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I no longer hurry to the passing minutes
Watching dawn fade into sunset shades…
Time reels in and out
Like catching a swooping fish that misses
The hook but must swim the race…
I dent my hours and crash against the
Obstacles of daylight’s mirages and blows,
Moving through the maze
In faith’s zig-zag motion to the endemic
Design of God who measures every woe…
I philosophize nothing with my myopic eye,
Trusting my accounting to the invisible
Of each granted moment
Like the first push of air in a baby’s lung
And the last April drizzle.
Perpetual to the ticking of life’s empirical tone
And the honing out of daily bravery,
Lies the cold crooked metal
Of fear and fury I temper in rustic prayer--
To love and forgive my enemy.
I am a vast ocean of galilee storms
Waiting the lift of mortality’s fog…
My years duly crafted within yesterday’s,
Today’s and tomorrow’s scope—
The perfecting of Time’s demigod.

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The black sun deepens upon earth’s face
Mercifully reaching to the core of my soul
And binding up my heart—
Mother Earth is breathing under my feet,
Dreaming like God for its fullness to be
Begotten—
I feel her suffering as my fingers trace
The dying child, the empty womb, recalling
A paradise forgotten—
This crevice, this rock from where I watch
Hide me between awe and pain
Like a crying harp—

Is it glory I am tingling under or is it
Glory I have dusted off with every
Mortal entangling?—
Is it moonlight or sun’s laughter
That wakens earthliness in the blood
Of existence flower?
It is demise to measure, delineate every
Motion, season, hour and minute as
No more than a dower,
Some deserved gift, pleasure earned
For Being the voice-full specie
Of a million cymbal’s caroling—

Earth, may I step lightly upon your smile,
Your beauty, which blows me over
With awesome reverence—
May I run naked from ego and sin,
Tipping my hat to every god
And gentle breeze that lulls—
Wiping my feet and licking my lips at
Every dawn for bread, and song and tear
That tutors what in me is so small—
And may my center fill its measure
In bewildered mystery and worship
To the heartbeat of your benevolence.

“By Candlelight and Rain”

“By Candlelight and Rain”

The soft and calling rain sings Christmas upon
My ear,
Cradling my heart to turn from with out to
Within,
Where tinsel wraps around in starlight
And silent tears,
Where hay halo’s the wet tiny head of The
Newborn King
And peace veils my anxiety in The Miracle
Who appeared….

Gently the wind hisses and seeps through my
Window,
And I nestle against the blanket of memory
Etched deep,
Carved in the wood of family, friends and all that’s
Hallow;
Like the voices of angels one midnight above
Bethlehem’s sleep
My ear listens and catches a note of my own in
Rain’s marrow…

I temple forth with fresh faith, rising like a steeple to
My new birth
While Christmas rain peals joyous tones of praise
Outside.
And, swathing myself in pine candles and cinnamon’s
mirth
I hum “Silent Night” with no mortal as witness
But God’s eyes
While all around angels harmonize in elfin raindrops
To be heard.

“Binding the Broken”

“Binding the Broken”

There’s been no bugle
Rounding up the souls to fight
At dawn--
But the roar has beleaguered
The heart of those left behind
To warn—
To shout the pain picking
Shards and shafts of life
At night—
And quenching insanity’s
Act behind the pledge of allegiance
For Life.

The hymn between the tears
Thunders faith beyond the steel
That stormed—
The hideous combustion blown
Into the face of routine,
Our norm—
And the flames of infamy that burn
Above the stunned, those drawn to
Kneeling form—

Still the lives of millions do not halt,
They stand firm toward another day
That shines—
Turning up stone, concrete’s weight,
Seeking, knocking and finding
God’s line—
Answers to questions never asked
But found between the rubble of
This crime—

The bugle of freedom has called
For Tomorrow to descend in Love’s
Promise—
For one more child to sing strong
America’s constitution with angels
Chorus—
And though more hearts may break,
More lives be taken back Home
At worse—


We are neither alone nor dethroned
By hate—
We are destined to rise again
By faith—
For America will not forger nor
Forsake—
The God of heaven and earth
That Saves!

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I like the way you strike my match
The way your hands collect me like a delicate stem,
The easiness you bring to my soul like
Morning’s promises
And the way I can lean into your present tense
Never quite compromised…

I like the senses you stir within me,
The way you mix my ingredients into a brew,
The simmering under my autumn skin like
Spring’s crocuses
And the way you remind me you are true,
Never forced or ever tied…

I like the way you forget my limitations,
The ways you cling to me like a fluttering leaf;
The faith you put in tomorrow like
Easter’s ecstasies
And the way you render me silent with belief,
Never dimming my tiny light…

I like the reasons you are in my life,
The comma’s and periods in every phrase;
The synonyms you add like
Timely O’s and X’s
And the way you finish me like praise
Upon your lips each night…

I think I’ll keep you near and nearer;
The way you fix me to Forever with a kiss,
The rough edges and every point
I understand in stages
Of this Love affair between life’s mists
And each blessed sunrise.

“Looking for Miracles”

“Looking for Miracles”

I’ve seen a miracle
Not for my amazement or
Reward-
Held before my peripheral
The image of godliness
At bay—
The signature of greatness
Written with a mortal
Chord,
Yet composed by heaven’s spotlessness
In each pair of eyes
I met today.

In All thy Getting, Get Understanding”

In All thy Getting, Get Understanding”


Too often I am reluctant
to listen
to halt between decisions—
To choose amazes my
senses
into vivid consequences-
I fear my lack of precision
But relish the wideness
Of the road—
Life is plentiful, hands full
Of fresh permissions
And the quiet sacredness
Of every low.

But it is in my stillness
I learn most,
Culturing the whisper within-
Turning away from worldliness
That subtly blows
And gusts me farther
Farther from Him—
Here, in this closing “me” out
My soul bends accessible-
I cannot ignore the
Voiceless shout
Of the holy, piercing and
The recognizable-

I have become a better listener
With age-
My hearing less important
Than conviction,
But my ability to stand
Still in Life’s haste
Has sharpened my ears
To Eternity’s perfect
And clear diction.

“Seeking More than Answers”

“Seeking More than Answers”

I can ask myself a roll of questions
And give the right answers,
Knowing full well the consequences
Should I transgress…
My understanding broad enough
To see the possible error
And folly I would incur at length
Should I regress…

But what good are the answers
And my wisdom Lord God
If it is through error I must learn
My unique nothingness?
Oh, I am aware and comprehend
That knowledge is power,
That to act upon is freedom
And my privilege at best…

Still, my weakness is dimension
I cannot avoid without repercussion,
I am slave to mortality’s tenth
And pay the price is its request…
The answers do not apprehend
The joys of deliverance,
But they are citadels and warrant
To my flesh recklessness…
I suppose it is my submission
That strives relentlessly against
My superior ignorance
Like devils at war with brightness…

What am I to do with my ration
And portion of rejoinders?
Should I let go and sanction
All suffering as my only kindness?
Should I embrace this inference
That to know is better than not
And to falter is not detention
But growth under thy breath?
Oh my God, I do not question
Thy wisdom nor answers given,
I simply ask for my obedience
To be braver than my knowingness.

“Tending To Love”

Marriage has slowed me down
I sit and think a little longer
My morning tends to long
Encounters
Of new meanings,
Definitions to opposites
And fresh dimensions unwandered.

My day moves in one round
Engaging my heart in hours
Of giving, preparing, sowing
Quiet desires
That root me inward,
Grounding me to purposes
And reasons I had never sauntered.

Marriage has paced my steps
I watch and pray and ponder
My ‘whys’ and ‘how’s’ in faith,
Centered,
Fixed upon loving, serving, listening
To another’s
Needs as my very own
Joining two composites
As a solitary force by God empowered.

My living twined with new depth
Gauged between two goods forever
Exaltation and godhood’s promise
To the Believer,
The keeper of covenants
And follower of righteousness
Who makes of her soul His measure.

“Should You Knock”

“Should You Knock”

I swell in this love,
Plump and bursting with
The finest ointment
For your lips
To be whetted and kissed by—

My fruit ready to be picked
And bitten at your desire
Or licked with no caution,
It is yours,
Do not hesitate at the door—

I drip at the seams
In exciting abundance,
Bending heavy to the content
Of your soul,
My breast full with delight—

Come and eat, sip, savor
The meat of new life,
I fancy your fitting execution
To resist
Only for a single moment more!

“Facing Another Day”

“Facing Another Day”

Things seldom unfold calmly
My heart commonly needs an extra beat
To better endure the unsteadiness of life.
Turning the other cheek is full bravery,
Courage I stumble over –
My firmness is a leaf in flight.
I begin each day eloquently,
Trusting, believing my faith is strong;
The sun is light enough to guide.
Like a slow thundercloud, quietly
Rumbling under life’s secret
I hear the call, ‘be patient’ the price.
Am I to square my shoulders, unflinchingly?
Look up and live like Alma taught
And seal my lips from a whine?
Bending to the higher Will gracefully,
My tears coloring the canvas
Before my stunned and weary eyes.
Again, “Required” the word reminicingly
Echoes and I hide my face to cry,
“What more can I possibly sacrifice?”
But my answer is silence-- His mercy.
I must rely on only Him again,
My full desperate weight undivided.
A thousand questions resound gently
Like rain upon many hurts.
They sing a familiar song without guile.
My determination befriends the godly
Beneath my naturalness
And slipping into His Hand I hide.

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Raw and bloody, cold and scarred
Winter binds and coils around my soul,
The eastern slight of white bars me
From a thousand suns—

Twilight reaches in oil lamp warmth
As I temper the pain within my bones,
Aching to unfurl and brush off the ice
From my stiffened wings—

All I can do is totter, twig around the tar
That renders me weak in blackened coal,
Wanting to soar, glide into sky implicitly
And dip in God’s fund—

But I must endure the circular gray storm
Before my soul lands on heaven’s dawn-lit dome
For, my wounds will be the proof of rights
And final dividend.

No More Begging”

No More Begging”

The black of night yields me restless,
Bouncing from you to me to you
In an anxious need,
A hunger bullying me
Bruiseless
But painful to my blood pumping organ.

You have denied me the gratitude
That bends to Love and joyfulness,
Refraining to kiss,
To embrace the bliss
And magnitude
I am privileged to bear as a full fledge woman.

I refuse to beg and lengthen my stride
Under the moonlight that watches,
Wanting, praying and crushing
My fingers in pleading
For your blue eyes
To ravish me down within my grand canyon.

Whisper me no more to your demigod
Of word-filled volumes, I must starve
For knowledge of you,
Your body in the nude,
Like the first time
I beheld the curving shadow of a banion.

“One Sleepless Night”

“One Sleepless Night”

I have been sleepless, the crust around
My eyes are the tired tears left behind
As the oil paint on my canvas.

This night I have dimmed my light down,
My exhaustion sucking energy
From some secret well of courage.

Time tees off and hits the mark, Gone!
To me it is merely a reminder
That today is almost in the past.

I milk my mind for some whisper that sounds
As familiar as my brokeness,
As true as my desperate cry for refuge.

But there is a vacancy so loud that pounds
Upon this fragility that I now am,
Leaving me to ponder this silence so vast,

This complete solitude within me found
Like an ancient prophecy it reads
And phrases my pain in godly tutelage.

“I shall prove them herewith” the Voice announced,
“Art thou greater than Him?” it gently asked.
“Doubt not, fear not.” The answer at last.

Sleeplessly I stare in eminent awe that crowns
My soul in reverence to this One
That turned this sleepless night into His message.

“Peter, James and John”

“Peter, James and John”


Enter into My secret place
and do not think you are less than privileged,
For I shelter My soul from eyes I do not
Trust,
Lips that like ether let secrecy escape through the
Cracks and poison the air.

But come; see the fog lift in shades,
You may find a jot or tittle, a tiny vestige
Of glory in the circling of stars in the settling of
Gold dust
Around your head like a halo only angels graciously
After sacrifice come to wear.

I welcome you to bow in this garden’s grace,
Do you hear the whispering? Feel the holy siege
Sent to those who seek the answers beyond the
moth.
My blessing is with you child, come and partake
From My vineyard and share.

Oh but sleep steals you from God’s face,
From the blood and, the cold night’s anguish
I bore in reverie of eons ago when I was chosen
For love,
For wanting your greatness to bloom and shine
Forth at resurrection’s trumpets blare.

Today His invitation opens the garden gate
To you and I, will you enter and visit?
Can you put down the sickle and plow to taste
His cup?

I hear Peter, James and John call in their witness
I read after my early Morning Prayer.

Rising to the Occasion

RISING TO THE OCCASION"


The birds sweetly sing to life.
They do not need any reason or rhyme.
They sing because it is natural, like the air.
They do not know weather or clime,
It is just what they do.
Their song is not dampened by rain, to them
All is right, plentiful, and good.

So must I sing to "Life."
My song must find no strings to earth.
It must soar and have a face of joy not sullen
Like a starving soul un-nursed.
It must Be just Because,
With no reason but to be heard by life itself,
Destined only for God!

"Day of Trial"

"Day of Trial"


The Easter winds are swinging the palms
Dusting off the sky,
Sweeping the earth with its memories
Of Golgotha's sighs,
The tears of three Mary's
And eleven soaking in the solemn crime.

My little and dense soul reaches for Jerusalem
Long ago in an Easter prayer,
Deepening myself in the soil of repentance
And in Calvary's fare.
Ah, the forgiving wind lifts the vagrant
Poverty I've worn through Christ's addendum

Glory!
Glory!
Glory!

Blow sweet Easter gale and dress me whole,
Disperse my gray vestige
Into light. His tombless greatness
Let be my prestige.
Sweep over me like a ransom's rest
And let no treason of mine be retold!

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Time is wet and slippery to my mind tonight.
My fishing skills are poor and
Trying to catch it
Eludes my hungry bait of
Existence--
Like a trout on his way out of
The hook.

Oh, I do not want for memory's sake, I
Remember too well for my own
Good; I suppose,
I have so much of me that cries
Resurgence
I must have enough of "It" to
Do it in.

Time daunts me and straddles me down;
I cannot feather myself away.
But, I savor my groundedness,
That heavy taste to life's
Emulsion
And the thickness it pours into
My flowing brook.

Sometimes I do wrestle it to the floor with
Determination of extinguishing
It's regal authority,
Ranting and raving, hand tied
In revulsion,
But I fathom it reasons this
Humanistic.

How countless are my minutes in the scheme
Of eternity, future, tomorrow,
All is in today's ambiguity
That rises up by the Here termed
Probation--
Maybe I should conform to the
Plaintiff's truce.

Time, you are destination to my flesh
All that Is inevitable tottering
In the multiplicity
And serendipity of knowing the dust
Of duration,
The inferiority of my mere and
Numbered statistic.

"Dreamer"

"Dreamer"


I emptied myself in your hands
In the dream you brought with
One syllable--
Your eyes dawned upon me,
I fell in your temptations net
And decibel--
Easing my soul into your dance
Opening my mind in faith's
Warm repose--
I forgot to resist my logic's piece
Objecting to all wisdom known
My eyes closed--

I undressed my solitude to yours
Unraveling my life like braids
Carefully tied--
Your fingers catching the stars
And moonbeams in each strand
I held tight--
Bracing my fear you sweetly tore
Wide open my chained up hope
With your hot kiss--
Acquitting me from painful scars
I laid myself down with no plans
To hold back bliss--

My body rose up to touch Light
As you played with my sleep
In a whisper--
Breathing was full and restful
The child in me swept in trust
By love's piper--
I drew myself up in a facile sigh
Of freedom and awing clarity
Long forgotten--
And from my window a tasteful
Of glory imagined by two
By love begotten!

"What About Ourselves?"

"What About Ourselves?"


If you should see me would you tend to my brokeness
Dry my tears and
Put ice chips upon my desert lips for tenderness
You understand I need
Or would you shoot my wound with saltiness
Pouring from your words and
Look me over in judgement's corrosiveness
To run from your deed?

If you should find my hand outstretched in hunger,
My eyes wanting and
My feet shoed by muddiness walked through danger
Would you stop Or
Would you free my wandering from cold's monger?
Answer my prayer in manna's
Gift and clothe my soul in love's distant manger
Called God?

I ask myself the redundant questions in reasoning,
Answering my remembrance,
Going back to small deeds like a tiny flaming
I never did,
The eagerness to get to my importance, moving
In and out from life
And skipping over myself, over my own weeping
I had busily hid.

Sometimes we forget ourselves in Time's sixty count,
Swimming by our life
Like a spectator, unheard, unseen and renounced
By our own voice,
Forgetting our need for a sacred and solemn mount
To harbor our soul,
And ignoring the hunger of the divine "I am" noun
He blessed at Eden's choice!

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Wait till the dark hinges upon this window
Till the burning oil runs low and
The bread of that day has been eaten…

There is mystery in my soul,
Beauty i left unattended to when the day
Swung its hand across my face…

The bright of darkness will widen my field
Of dreaming and seeing is penetrating coal, then
I shall feast like the unbeaten…

Waiting guides me North through the sea
Of teetering and numerous vessels
Upon the ocean of life's chase

And I roam with new eyes my density,
My lips dried from travelling past southern poles
Unexplained; and I stop to listen…

Oh the fullness of being empty!
Dew alone can fill me as I gaze into nothingness
And grace shelters my awestruck clay!

Oh the fusion of silence in gold!
The match cannot consume or defame the flame,
He alone has generously given!

Here in my darkness goes before me
The sacrament of one kind, one sole deliverance,
The current of knowing by faith.

I am Tired

I am tired,
Eager to rise yet anxious to give up;
Forfeiting my right to smile for
Blinding tears And
Shutting my ears to cheer.

I am tired,
Watchful to serve yet needing to be served;
Seeking to let go and accept
My stride's length, But
Questioning my strength.

I am tired,
Destined to love yet wishing to feel less;
Wanting to run away to
My tiny island And
Walking on desert highlands.

I am tired,
Longing to Do yet required to first Be;
Taking my turn on earth
In mortal armor And
Dependant as a pauper.

I am tired,
Created to succeed yet doubting;
Slipping over and over and over
Like oil under my feet And
Waiting on God's loving lead.

I am tired,
Thinking all is well yet frustrated;
Studying my path to Him
Amidst life's wounds And
Turning to prayer's sure boon.

I am tired,
Weary for release yet cherishing each day;
Trusting my life is accounted
For as an instrument And
Reaching for my true measurement

हे He is speaking

In the affliction we bear,
The wrongs written
Upon our silent smile
And the hidden heart we
Can never elude,
There is One who gathers us under
His wings
And seeks to shelter us with
His promise:
“All these things will
Work out for your good.”

In our weathering of storms,
The sand in our shoe that
Hinder the extra mile
And the scars we shy from for
Fear to be odd,
There is One who whispers to us
Within
And seeks to remind us with
His promise:
“You are my little one,
My daughter, a child of God.”

In the tears we weep and spill,
The truths we see as irreconcilable,
And all that goes from our
Reaching for,
There is One who gently cries us
Over
And seeks to beckon us with
His promise:
“I shall not leave thee alone or
Forsake when you knock at my door.”

In the running of life’s race,
The darkness encountered by trial,
Those things we do not
Understand,
There is One waiting at the end of
The line
And seeks to lead us along with
Hi promise:
“Those who endure to the end shall
Be glorified at God’s right hand.

Bring me to your side.

Bring me to your side.

Take me into your
Invisible circle that
Life draws for each one of us
In chalk white…

Pocket me like change.

Rub me for good luck,
That my tinkling may
Remind you, lull you and hum
You insane…

Pull me to your lips.

Caress me into your
Breath like the beginning
Of a hurricane that wraps one
In its mist…

Charge me with delight.

Let your hands stimulate
The electricity I keep
Behind my quiet river and free
Me for flight…

Saddle me onto your back.

Lift me above my horizon
That the sunrise whisper me
Far from here on the sound of
Your voice track…

Call me into your bed.

Let my wings gently spread
Wide over your warmth
And rescue me from the cold
Of night’s dead…





Hitch me to your waist.

Slip me into your holster,
Tangle me around your finger and
Trigger me into your mouths
Fruity taste…

Hold me with your cool eye.

Chisel me into your soul,
Etch me into your mind
Like words on stone and dust
Into life…

Love me into your heart.

Fasten my needs to yours;
My legs, arms and shape let
None possess but you, for I am
Eden’s Art.

untitled

Touch me with silence and douse the chorales
Of life’s pounding roar, the swelter of
Poverty and insanity—
I cannot rivet in the shallowness of vanity’s shoals
Writing upon sand and wind
That cry levity—
You must come or I will blow away like petals,
Then you will not be able to gather and
All will be a casualty—

Can you not sense my storm of violent metals,
Swirling, searching for your magnetism
To cease my velocity
In your soul,
In your sheltering
And forensic truism?

Round me in your breathing mist, the corral
Of your grace that whispers distance
From hypocrisy—
Turn me inside out in a supernal
Of light and let me walk naked in your
Defeating charities!