Tuesday, December 14, 2010

One Week

1 week.
passes by
usually the same-
people come and go
seasons change.
We attend the schedules
crunch the hours
craving sleep when waking
and craving waking while sleeping.
We measure the time
between our next responsible beer
and the intoxicated decisions
we wish we seldom
but often mis

7 days.
of trudging through mundane
growing accustomed to
sets. Abiding
Giving and giving
going and doing
making and taking
here, there
chasing the nightmarish tail
that America used to believe in.

168 hours.
breaks with the
Lights and minds moving
seeing, creating,
moving you.
Music smiles
and you wiggle
your insides
stirring, stretching
you've captured something...
but what?

10080 minutes.
it sings
vivid colors in the abysmal sky
fly, you cry
as your heart skips
and opens to these
sacred, precious moments

604800 seconds.
you've known it
and it's already
erased the schedule
shown you beauty and
intoxicated your sober thoughts.
You let go
you admit you don't know
and this delicate
little bud of truth
has you
on your knees,

wishing that it was still the beer
you had been waiting for...

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Heart Strings

Exposed delicate tiny fiber
taught between love
and fear,
humming quietly
excitedly shy
wondering how it got here.

Before it was loud
vestal, capricious delight
vibrating with life
voracious for lust
never lost it's appetite.

And after a strapping Bow
plucked it along and
blaring augmentations
played a long
hard, sad song-
it strung out.

Now tiny fiber,
you're broken in
knowing and feeling.

By the right hands
you know which
strokes and beats
whistles and blows
combine to create
a symphony.

But will your audience be moved
by your quivering happy thrills?
Are they heated and chilled?
Or do they walk out
leaving the pauses
without any applauses,
hollowed and swallowed
passing passion unfulfilled?

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Gypsy Woman

Gypsy woman
waves, spirals and curls
all across the maps
watch her feathers unfurl

Vibrant colors she paints
across the scintillating sky
flowing songs of exotic places
she wakes your heart to beat inside

Gypsy woman
come and briefly behold
for you cannot keep her
or the stories she told

Wandering lady
leaves free to roam
breaking your heart
when the seasons grow cold

Shy Love

Here it is
the quivering dizzy little butterfly
the nauseous playful self
that always
never hit before.

The stumbling alphabet
pouring from the top
broken violin strings of
the sweetest song you almost heard
forming in the pitiful of your

Here it is
the mark of the prick
that drew red hot from ice
that cried green from gray
December falls
submits to the good graces
of a promised Eden.

The smirking scared bites
lip fulls of butterfly kisses
sensing the coagulation of
chemistry boiling below
wishing that these moments
while words were left

Frost heaves
desire to hold you all night.