The Lonely One

                The night presses down

                                Like a pillow over

                                                The sleeping town

Suffocating.

                                                Heavy shadows drift

                                out from under trees

                To await the ax’s descent

Waiting.

                There’s a soft, light breath

                                across the wound in the Earth

                                                A twig snaps under a foot

Breathing.

                                                The last embers in the sky

                                Flicker one more moment, then die

                Blue comes, to shield the killer’s blood

Bleeding.

                All the night listens

                                For but a moment to live in

                                                Before he smiles

Living.

Art

A careless artist

                      a wayward gesture
a pallet of paint

                       spilled across the canvas
of the gods
                                    
                       soft pastels with bold brights
          

There Was a Child

There was a child went forth everyday into the world

of feathered clouds in the light of dawn

of cooing mourning doves from their nests

of frost glittering on rooftops

She went forth from the warmth of her mother’s embrace

from the strength of her father’s hand

from the laughter shared with her brother

from nights spent beside a fire, beneath the stars and moon

She saw a thousand sunrises that made her smile

but only a few sunsets took her breath away

She ran in emerald fields under the cottonwood trees

reveling in the snow under the sun

She spun around in autumn’s leaves,

She fell in love with the crystalline air of a snowy night

And she met the sweet girl named Emily I. she’d never remember

And the girl she’d play Matilda with

And the first boy she’d ever love

And the friend who put the first knife in her back

And the girls who’d never leave

Then she made her own places

an ancient kingdom of thieves

a future darkened in decay

a world just behind the veil of ours

Standing on a Stage

Standing on a stage,
     knees shaking a little
Voice alone in the room,
     booming or whispering
Eyes glittering in the shadows
     just beyond
Become someone else
     reach into the crowd
Make them laugh,
     make them weep
Make them believe
     it is not a room they sit in
But a house, an island, a castle
     somewhere they can never go

Don't you know
     standing on a stage
            you hold our hearts in your hand?

Cactus

White hair with no shift of red
the shade that gave you your name
Faded jean eyes, peering through thick glass
Creased forehead, roughened by sun and dry wind
Hands carved from oak, worn to sandpaper
A distant figure in my vision,
saguaro cactus reaching toward white sky
Stay standing
Don't leave on the howl of
the desert wind

Voices Unheard

Be not seperate
For the aparrt are unhappy
Go on together.

                                                  Stand with me, here
                                                  on the edge of everything
                                                  One day, we'll fall

                                                                                           Maybe and what if
                                                                                           the may and the if
                                                                                           throw open the windows and doors

Colors

Dark musty purple felt
Misty blue so sharp it could cut glass
Lemon drops falling on car windows
Ruby and crimson jeweled necklaces at a party
Topaz carpet that whispers underfoot
Blue paper plate, white and curled at the edges

Burning Tree

The heat of summer lingered on,
           even in the rain
In the emerald of the leaves
           and in the evergreen of grass
Until the day where the clouds gather
           setting fire to the trees
Blazing like torches in the night
           they burn away the heat
Summer has gone, taking with it
           the emeralds of the sun
The shift is soft, gentle
           coming with the rain and red leaves
Today is the day the world turns.

Breaking

The thunderclouds have rolled in
rain lashing the ground like words
against your back
Thunder and lightning war
tearing at your heart
The wind howls to drown out
your pleas for it to stop.
The storm is breaking hearts
But we just have to wait it out
Soon, the sun will come out
and burn all the brighter
reflected on the puddles at our feet.

Sundrop

One day, just as the sun set fire
to the clouds of the west.
I caught a drop of it in my hands
I closed it in a locket
There it lay as the clouds began to gather
and the seasons changed before my eyes
like a slow motion picture
                                                                                     Only I had a drop of the sun
to hold as its mother vanished into the west
Sometimes, I took it out to hold it
Gazing into its gossamer depth
glittering like a crystal ball
Some day, I will set it free
and let it find its way to someone else
to give them the warmth of the sun
                                                                                     in the dark of winter's breath

Some day.

Fire and Fog

Gray grace of tendrils falling in
tender embrace all around

               The long lost wedding veil of some poor girl
               the one she never wore

Slivers of flame seek to burn it away
leave not even its memory behind.

               Wrapped tightly around the limbs
                of the dark blue world

Fire fails grasping at the veil as it slips
through its fingers like water through cupped hands

               Golden threads mix through the
               sad silver of the veil

Breathing life and joy into the desolate
folds once more

Blanket

Soft
       like damp clothes on cold skin 
Gentle
       caress of my cheek
Reminisce
        of this time moons past
Dream
        about spinning under golden rain
Stand
        still under the fleeting breath of fallen crystal stars

Broken Star

I wished upon a star
I watched it fall from the sky in flames
I ran toward a broken tree
I stood under thundering day
I screamed for him.
I went back and took up the fallen star

                                           Never dreaming I would capture all of them

Somewhere

Mosaic shimmering with darting shadows

on the floor of the Byzantine fountain

Lions laying on an opera stage

with rapier teeth under velvet whiskered lips

Cleopatra’s sons racing beside a train

 Roots of a golden pear tree snaking down

the silk curtains of the walls

Icicle keys hanging from the front desk

Titanic coming into port with one dimple

Dancers waltzing across ice, across broken glass

Mirrors showing the world the right way up

in brass frames

Pigeons fetching the newspapers from the

old ambulance

An old donkey’s trumpeting bray

The noonday bell echoing like a

coin clattering down on tile

A golden wedding ring left

behind in the sand

The music of an old guitar besid

the grave of Dame Liberte

Changing of the Guard

The hills that vanish in the horizon
                have taken the sun

Ink spilled across the canvas of the sky
                dark blue, ebony and purple

One by one, the sentinels of night
                come to watch over the world

As it sleeps.

Rainy Day

Opaque gray stretches out against the golden horizon
Soft patters strike the rooftops, quiet voices
promising the coming of autumn nights
Raindrops wash away the old stagnant heat of summer
leaving behind reborn air
Clear and cool as mountain dew
The world is quiet, lingering in the interlude
of morning light
Colors scrubbed away to their centers
Bright gems against the sky
from which the blue has run away.

Divided

Pieces of glass
     lying broken upon the ground
I pick a sliver up
     My finger rests on the edge
Razor sharp, uneven
      waiting to spill blood
Part of me wants to drop it,
       run away from the edge
The other part urges me to slip
      and watch my skin tear
To watch salty tears mix with blood
      as it flows over my heart
How I wish I knew which desire
      will win out
In the end.

Ink

Lines and curves sketched
     upon satin vellum pages
Ink brewed of everything
     in desire
Sweet chocolate lines
     and sweet grass curves
Late summer lilacs
      in the soft flutter of turning pages
Soft rain lingers there,
      its kiss fading ever so slowly
Words unknown, whispering
      of undiscovered secrets
Spill out into the world,
      and breathe here

Riddle

This game of truths
     disguised by riddles
Glances missed
     like passing ships
Hands pressed together
      in holy palmer's kiss
Fleeting whispers of maybe,
      of possiblities
Some day, eyes whisper
      Ever? lips question
Is it really any surprise
     I can't stop thinking of you?

Among the Skeletal Trees

I don't want to sleep
I'll walk through the fog in a forest
Among the skeletal trees
Over creeping moss and dull ferns
I walk through the fog in the forest
Everything hidden under a veil
Under creeping moss and dull ferns
Wade through the silent singing stream
Everything lurking under the veil
Dark shapes still unformed in the distance
Swim through the silent singing stream
High above, the sun breaks through
Among the skeletal trees
High above, the sun shines through
I don't want to sleep.

Sunshine

Come meet your brother,

            he smiles at your charcoal image

Come meet your father,

            he is a mirror for your eyes

Come meet your mother,

            her every breath is yours

Come walk under dappled shadows

            and white cotton seeds

Come running into a world of whisper clouds

            and murmured skies

Come touch the feathers of the trees

            and the marble of the pathways

Come out of the dark and into the light.