Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Nash Vegas

On the twin flame experience:

The way it worked
I had to walk into your bar
And it had to be winter solstice, the darkest
And it had to be that song

though now I don't remember any noise,
my free-bird raven
(breathe, beating heart. breathe, beating heart)
Clink, cheers
Back to life, back to reality

Your green squint envyted this,
hungry jades
using you
to seduce myself

...to remember my lips and hips
dancing eyes
...the unparalleled, power between my thighs

So, I let myself
Be tangled up in the blue of your strawberry hair,
a seeming field of for-never.

I went from player to played
In two shakes of your wolf in sheep's cotton tale
(kiss, breaking heart. kiss, breaking heart.)

Alternate current and direct current,
All shook up.

We bled sister rosetta red
the cords our story was destined to obey
the last note, where i lose the you and I
we made
(someone i didn't have to give away)

Like every song written, but never played.

Saturday, May 23, 2015

Fire Keep

I’ll be your grape soda
If you’ll be my red velvet cake
Mystery’s sweetest soul release
Sugar kiss, coated bliss
I’ll be your blanket
If you’ll be my pillow
Warm and soft silken escape
My resting head, your sacred cape
I’ll be our waterfall
If you’ll be the moss
Cleansed free on slippery rock
All this within we need to unlock
You’ll be the volcano
And I, the crane
Our every touch
This last refrain

Friday, January 9, 2015

Prairie Fire Wine

Do you have the time?
Could you write my next line?
Did you even wish to be mine?
sweet lil boy
With the huckleberry shine

But you'll never come back to me
Always too blind to really see
What was lost was not for sale
Now I'll keep my heart in jail

Drinkin prairie fire wine
Making love was not your kind
Faking nothing, let me be
Green eyes make envy the enemy

Pull my hat low 'cross the face
Pickin up my heart's melting pace
Childrens' laughter's not enough
The Wolves' howl is just too rough

Drinkin prairie fire wine
Dusty road's the final line
There's not one I wouldn't cross
To feel it less, this aching loss

Spilling prairie fire wine
deepest grapes, they need a vine
And There's only one thing ever free
That's what you took away from me.

Apricot Sunset

When the blues, greens, fluffy whites,
Begin to fade into the next hopeful dawn... And the owls ruffle feather awake to seek their prey

The horizon fading into a quaint squint
O'er the mountains

There I'll find you
Among those apricot embers

Sun stretching into its yawn
Moon taking her place in the night sky,
The lead

There I'll find you
Among the starry twinkles

Within the first cricket chirps
And distant howls

There I'll find you
Among all things that end...

And begin again.


Ocean wave, unencumbered circumference
The most secret parts, creating sea glass
Jasmine scented ritual dance,
A centuries old routine

One breathe follows the other
Mine, then yours
Yours, then mine

Heart opening blossom,
Petals falling, the foam explodes across the sand
And gently retreats
As the drum beat slows
And the water flows back-into self
Awaiting the moon's next command.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Cave In

Fool me once, love
and I wind up at the bottom of a glass.
Fool me twice,
and the conch shell's siren song is hard to ignore.

Even a cold river would do,
rock-lined pockets
with the wolf's ghost looking on in haunting approval
(because those who stray from the pack know the secret)

But then...
There is the go-on-living part,
soul-chipped, another jagged break against fine sand.

I can smell my nostril's salty burn
On this return
The ocean having already sold me her wares
right before my toes first tread hot patches tide will never reach.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Wonder. Lust.

Forgive my words if they run away from me towards you.
It has been awhile since I’ve written and containment isn’t an option.
     (Usually the inspiration is some dissident:
     distant melancholy pulling me,
     strings, threads
     to that play-space where I hammer-smoke verse, a mixed-bag blacksmith)

I am not a bee keeper, nor hive queen.
Have no patience for dewy netted hats, protective gloves, or giving directive,
Not all separation and order yields nectar,
Not all togetherness stings.

What I want is to stop waiting at airports for trains...
To mark one lil lazydaisy valley my heart’s cornucopia,
A newly forged instrument,
     hybrid: flute, didgeridoo, sitar, and soku.
Its lithe love songs tangled in my hair, like your hands.