YOU… – Jewel -

You with your
gentle lightning
spinning like Orion,
full of muscle
and all the patience
of stars.
Hooked upon the pinnacle
of a desire
that arrests
itself,
caught on the crossfires
of what could be,
my mind turns to you:
A pin hole of light
that softly hums
and murmurs
whose blurry edges
beg to come into view.

Pages

EMPTY PAGES NO LONGER YOUNG

 

Florence Sand Dunes, where I once dropped my camera

There are angels written in sand grooves, clouds, angels written in leaves.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Would you join me, or shout, “Bring on the angels, the bright waterfall of angels tour?”
 
 

I am supposed to write.

I need crayons. I have them. I need markers. I have them. They sit in empty coffee cans. They are waiting to be used. Use me, Periwinkle screams. Use me, Marigold screams. No! Use me, Gray screams. I will use all of you, I will bide my time, my dear ones, I will not only [...]

A shade of Blue

Blue. That’s it. Blue.
When asked what I sound like… he said, “You’re Blue.”
“Blue?” I ask. I wonder. I pause and think. Blue?
“Yes, Blue. We all speak Blue. Some of us speak Dark Blue. Some of us speak Light Blue. Some of us speak Royal Blue. Some of us speak Midnight Blue. Some of us [...]

the Earth

 
                                          speaks to us in whispers
 
listen
 
O Earth, wait for me
 …toward which corner of the mountain no one can tell, in these misty clouds; it is only beginning, the beginning of an ending, ending a beginning, thus.  …toward which direction the rooster points, the door faces North, downward pointing to the gates of Hell, my good sir.   [...]

sarah with the red door has impeccable taste

so you want to be a writer? — Bukowski

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re [...]

You Should Write About You.

So let me write about me, then
Pre-Moistened cleansing towelette
Ripping toenails
Ripped biceps, not triceps, what a lie
Crows feet
A bob, extra volume vavoom, kaboom, get a room
Gazelle kicks pronghorn prances
Bouncy flouncy flaunt
                                                      Grin
Organic giggle
Indigo, maybe, speckles of      light      in between, always
Scraped knees, scarred elbow, lead lip remnants, a beagle bit my ear
One book, two, maybe more
Sleepless nights, insomnia, [...]