Mithuna

Fragments shattered on the rock realign, converge; particles swarming to reconfigure ancient lovers longing to escape Ellora's caves. A ritualized hiatus realized in deep relief, suspension in gaining, having, yearning.

dilapidated-
alabaster crumbling
ground under tourists

A young couple kiss, each pulling their cell phones from their open mouths, and snap self portraits with their erotic backdrop. They return from whence they came, unchanged lovers.

archaeology-
carving future histories
eroding limestone

antlers come and go
hours hopeful seeing nothing
empty-had but lost

sickened failure haunts
robbing the red ritual
of culmination

Rumination

Like an ornament hung from a tree
glittering for a time
betwixt and between
the childlike anticipation
and the bittersweet culmination

I hang
between
the wanting
and the having

for a season
suspended in trees
hiding
in seeking.
Hunting.
























Image compliments of Via Negativa.

Sweet Award

The Sweet Award (bestowed upon me by Lissa of Just Writing Words) requires dissemination. Fun. These are a few of my favorite things:


Filigree
Iridium
Valkyrie
Ecstasy

I'm passing on this sweetness
while a-float on a whiskey river
on my own bibliodyssey
stripped of all but pride
and dreaming in just paisley
while hoping you don't take my wings.

Drivin' and Cryin'

She said she wants to roll with the top down
she said she wants to drink the wind
she wants to feel her skin again.

She got her hand out the window
trying to catch the night
trying to catch the light.

She's drivin' and cryin'
And I'm wondering why?

She said "You know its been a long summer…
and its been real dry."
It was hard to swallow
I caught it in the corner of her eye...
this was our first goodbye.

She's drivin' and cryin'
and I think I know why.
'Cause our four-leafed clover
is over-
our thick October
is over.

I'm still wishing upon your star
playing your number wherever you are.
I'm still trying to catch the lights for you
fillin' up a jar for whenever you're passing through.
I'm still hoping to feel your skin again
but I never learned
how you drink the wind-
how you drink the wind-
how you drink the wind.

Hear it here

Aden

A pirate now, and forever.
Fresh yet familiar
sails on my horizon
seen countless times in the calm
this day
ripe
for the taking
slaking
give rise to wildness
escaping
from bondage forced
by the latest
largess and exile.

Fancy this boarding
and the swinging of ropes
and the spoils and the fire and the fairest
of hostage, of heroine, of heated
decision
forged
in ancient kiln.

You’ll walk it
this plank
at the point of this sword
choose cutlass
or crevasse
of Neptune.
Bound, you will fall
Where I’ll catch you
enthralled
and the sinking will
salt old sails.

The End of November

Draw-
as in draw your guns
as in a last stand
desperado
pistolero
gunfight
high noon.

Draw.
Let me have 'em
both barrels
slugs or sabots,
best shot.
Eye-ballin's over.
Long time comin'.
Saloon's closed.
Girls gone up.

Tumbleweed, tumbleweed
balls blow by.
Dusty.
Dirty.
Draw.