you’re all
tongue and
groove!
you salt my desire
like no one else can.
hidden beneath layers
of self-imposed hurt,
and walls you built,
hiding from yourself.
you rage against the storms
of life, your hand quivers
at the wheel!
i wait; a small bird
on your windowsill….
for time to bring you back
from the land of the dead!
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come, night…
open arms outstretched,wrapping all that hurtsand burns in cooling blackness.come, night,night of the candle lit,of the curtains blown,of the silent whispers.come, night,night of the glass upturned,of the laughter of comrades,of the talking of the eyes.come, night,night of the bodies wrapped,the tongues electric,the hardness and the wetness.come, night,night of quiet reflection,of soulful introspection,of prayer beyond words.come,…
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all too easy to overlook.moments of laughter shared,soft conversations about nothing,that were about everything!meals cooked together and shared,long walks on autumn evenings….watching old movies and in the herofinding the same path, the same journey,the same mistakes, the same triumphs.cutting wood and building a fire;making love, and the moments after shared.harsh words, and then forgiveness,as easy…
what we believed yesterday was a part of yesterday…
our believing has to evolve…. while having thesame roots, the plant changes, coming to fruition.our thoughts and feelings ripen, or they rot.we walk this path with eyes looking forward,strengthened by the memory of what has been!we are children of the forever dawn…and the ghosts that disappear into setting sun!
Buddha eyes,
and beneath the crust.Buddha ears,hearing what is not saidwrapped in the spoken.Buddha thoughts,connecting with all thoughts,creating and forming.Buddha heart,feeling every beat of every heartinside each beat of my own.Buddha freedom,letting go of…becoming a part of!
god doesnt like her name…
and the holy scriptureswe’ve hung around her neck,nothing but broken shoelaces!wars fought in her name,used condoms cast to the side.tainted morality in her image,burns like old photos on the fire.she’s not buying it!bird nests made of straw,human nests made of concepts.love itself doesnt wear clothes,cant be spoken…it must be lived!
looking for you…
i do to get by every day…in the clouds in the skythat turn at sunset…in the song i humthat has no name…looking for you…in the dishes i dry,and stack on the shelf…in the quiet time walkingwith my old dog…in the books i readin the failing light….looking for you…in the aches and the painsthis old body…