Creativity, of which poetry and other writings is a part, is not a one-way street. And the experiences and stimuli that engender what gets created are often shared and not just something affecting or relating to the author/creator. Some of what follows I categorized as “incoming.” Love and feelings and perceptions are spoken of and shared. I have taken a few ‘liberties’ with the writings that were mostly shared on ‘scraps’ of various kinds of paper. There were few titles and a little punctuation has been added here and there. The rest is pretty much as was resurrected. Enjoy!
A Message
I received this message; I sent it on to you: elements in a universe realized we are in space the largest we become in each other’s arms.
are we to be alchemists joining in the answers while we are the forces pulling wonder to form? there is a part of me which is the worldless scientist, star gazer, earth mender serving the perfection of mind and desire. a hugeness about us, an open-ended scheme, mandate: explore and record react together, opening our time to weightlessness, there are no wiser fools.
The Playground With The Fastest Swings
you and I awake, having a cup of tea, nothing set before us in the day; the sun would break through; the rain would seem to stop. it became a much more crowded world last night – a place for lovers only in the mind. there is no doing away with the other’s lover – no thought of it; but is there a ramble path through the other’s? can the stroking of black curls in Ashland up to the morning be felt in Woodstock hollows on a walking head of salt & pepper pressed to the life of another found soul? plow horses riding the early morning, a bluesy yawn, and all the solemn promises play the futures on a nod. you’re an important man in my life; your presence as “evolved” man shapes a space for my womanhood. you’re an environment for my history, present and past; the Playground with the fastest swings; the museum with the lushest walls. but time is tight this year as everyone knows and creative centers close early – may the luck of being locked in, staying all night – do gents gossip? the preview of the growth ahead of you excites me like the promise of a carnival for one night only. the notion to become lovers is a sweet notion; strangers exchange lives in a moment – carbon arcs.
the need to talk to you; the must of dialogue last night (Sunday, Our Town) set you as “not me,” “other than me” – Separate and beyond the region of monologue. so I write you, two cups of tea, music to move me along, and spoken conversation awaiting a call. I find this all interesting, the way humans feel; what they choose to sustain recreation (I love you) can I touch your sweet lips? after speaking to you – in the most complicated association; two humans, I speak in images of simplicity, almost ritual. tea, the smelling of air with rain stuck in its teeth, the licking of sandstone, the making of each other human;
perhaps the creating of each other by touch, anointed with sun, lips, earth, wind. we are of the same mind. there is consent to exchange knowledge. I lie open to your imagery.
Carpetbaggers Of Love
I am exhausted and walking with the thought of you.
The evening light is a saturation. words are forming like February buds on my limbs: skin gardens of poems for you, aiming one love on the light and the other is held like mercury in crystal. as I drive, the sky melts on my eyes, clouds are holding the romantic era and I travel in the folds. We’ve made summer plantings of winter’s gardens (we become carpet-baggers of love)
Winding My Way
Light fades: Each day Shorter. Tree’s soul signals, Leaf’s lifeline dries; My spirit, using rainbow brush Touches leaf. Spirit also paints you; But mind’s eye, And soul’s touch Won’t cover your glimmer – Your inner radiance. God! So lovely! Formed by that laughter You patented and own. Another laughter comes to mind, Touched off by sensual play: The music that you make As I ride along. You peer from familiar spot: I put you, your light, In favorite places to be. My alone time is with you As I reach, stretch out. My senses try their wings And I FLY In ways I can’t fathom, Except by touching thee. My thoughts brush softly The sides of your cheeks: Finely covered, Pink spheres introverted. I salvate, Seeking your tongue; Juices flowing, Seeking those fields Where your puddles lay. I am sky and cloud, You mountain – To lay upon and surround: So softly, So lightly, Finding ways to unite. Our skins, our covers, Shatter as souls, juices, thoughts Burst through To unite . . . to fly; To mix and tumble; To intertwine; To become as ONE. The effort is exhausting. I have changed. I have given all. All to know that I love And am loved: Knowing that fills All my days. And as the days shorten, Light fades – And so doth our time together? Perhaps not; There are ways . . . Summer lovers? Comets touching? Wildflowers mating? Trying phase after phase.
Remembering and re-living: Intertwining by the fire – Becoming the fire – Touching, licking, burning, Flaming side by side: Two bear hides Slowly rubbing, Interminable hibernation: A different way of dancing – One of Love’s Many faces. Oh, there is something Burning inside: Growing spirit More in love with you – It is so easy then to fly: Just plug into DC. So love, I’m connect; I draw from your current; Your flows and your energy; Your spirit and drive. Your swings are the fastest And on them I do ride. Keep the flag flying When tears we are crying; They make a river On which we can flow. In these waters, We can join and mingle Our hearts, Our minds, Our souls.
Our ripples come together: Under and over – Making circles and eddies That will forever remember Our lives and our loves. What, then, does it matter If our bodies are apart? So shortening days You are welcome; The change of season Merely stimulates other ways To reach out and be touched. May I now paint you With rainbow; Blow upon thee with cool breeze; Cover you with falling leaves? I caress your sweet warmness; Your lumpy nextness; Your twinkling presence; Your luxurious languor. We exist forever In our togetherness World.
My Cells Howl
Lover, who are you, gentle in my bed, the power of lions in your jungle strokes? my cells howl at the moon for you: man who’s very, very bright – soul and passions as soft and holy as candle’s light. particles, waves, ether suspensions and a floating walk, until the touch – the teeth shown, the tongue coiled: the deepest heaven. rest, fold your hands held in my arms, tones burst forth around our love.
We Are The Players
tumbling forward in the autumn light, lovers peel back my eyes, hello my sweet. lascivious giants – carnival jugglers with my possible lines, and I prefer you feeling your way through and giving shelter in the personal unknown. Sunday There is instinct urgency and the opening of a smile at the “ain’t that just somethin’” lunar docking, click, of no touch – vapor joy – desks and furniture wise as all get out. my love, we are the players of each other’s mystery.
Our Galaxy
Bright star From afar, What magic attraction? You could be cool, A mere fragment Of that mysterious firmament, Forever adding just a spot To my dreams of you And night.
Eyes wander With forced thought To other constellations – Other bodies who spin and glow, Who call with siren’s song, Falling on my ears As only the static Of the Universe. Bright star, Growing sun, Filling my nights With blinding glow Of all the suns Of my days. Days past, whose clouds Are burned to nothing By the light and warmth Of each tomorrow’s sun, Shining through my heart To inner eye, Delighting my soul. Shining star, From afar, I rise and grow To fill the space And time in between.
My dust and parts Coalesce and burn, Falling in, while falling up To critical mass. I, too, am star. I rise and grow, Gaining equal orbit, Matching light and heat. Twin suns, Feeding each other As matter flies In passionate exchange. Symbiotic orbits, Drawing in from near and far – Matter and force, We spin – Each a sun. Together we suns Are a new galaxy, Finding new power, New force, With each orbit Of our special days. I rise and grow To your call and light. This truth Is our fate, Is our destiny.
Unresolved
my mind is muddled – dreams from days ago fall into morning tea – as unresolved as the future. I’m afraid Of the truth in worried ideas, pile on the load; there are no endings in the bleak tenderness, just building corrals for the quality of life. I am clattering the knives on the bars.
Molecular Fog
roving internal burn alchemists, with standing onslaughts by ‘aura.’ dazzling molecular fog, lipstuck to our skins and falling in veils. molecular fog – particles of our spoken thought, ranging desires and color chewed on and spit. love me the color of moon’s skin tonight.
Reverie
In a spot for reverie, Love’s sacred and roaming monks set the tones; I cannot carry anger or cynicism within it. I go there for the secrets we discuss most freely academic. I lay me down on springs of laughing souls – simple cacophonies (of blown notes) tune the buoyant lunacy. embers cross my lips with songs (century twine) slung like South American sleeping hammocks in this rambling mind; a restful perusal of all that has been; (that you are laying in a hammock of centuries from which you gaze at times).
Luxury
I’ve thought of a luxury I’d like to share with you. The luxury of laying about, sometimes propped up, with books each held in silent opportunity for thought – that active passion we rarely share the enjoyment of.
Each of us reading quietly, agreeing, passing, breaking in inaudible cheers. Side-by-toe or head-to-belly Until an extravagant break into kisses ‘’ Exchanging the workings of an author’s ideas as we fold them into our minds. The exuberance of reasoned reaction to someone’s work; The pleasure of expressing one’s sense of it all up to now – making the love of scholars pleased with themselves and looking for the perfect mean.
Walk But A Bit With Me
Why can’t we sometimes see The forest for the trees? Sun’s glare, moon’s glow, Casts out the mind freeing And never ending possibilities Of a trip through the vast Universe That lies beyond. Spirit entwined At the mouth of the cave, High on purple mount Struggles to free itself – To look first At the endless green and stretch Of the fields and valley below. Spirit yearns to soar O’er peak upon peak. But how, when entwined, At the mouth of the cave, High on purple mount? I stand and grow, As forest over tree; As Universe beyond sun and moon; As endless valley and reaching range Of snow-roofed peaks. I reach To clear eyes and ears; I call to show the way And light the path To realization. Walk not ahead or behind, But by my step To test the tread.
Listen but a bit to words, Echoing the mumblings Of soul’s furnace, And to the sounds Of wind, of bird, Of rustling tree Of roaring brooks, And snowy tread. Share a bit – For no matter what, It will stretch your soul; More room for feeling and giving. Walk a bit with me; Look at forest, Universe, Plain and peaks. Fear not for yourself Your love, Our seed. I am gentleness born on the wind, Riding a leaf over gushing stream, The sparkle in the web Lit by fire’s glow. Fear not – Love
Motes In The Air
it is in my soul that I love you, so it is that I read: (skimming centuries; a sleek flat rock on mind’s skin) Pythagoras, who grants us to be born with the music of the spheres in answer to its silence and souls pulled from the void as numbers. The soul is the motes in the air. Motes of their own nature continually move, even in complete calm. The soul is attunement. The soul is . . . but the body. the body is to receive it; diving to the soul, we love in tender storms – the day is held, and we are the day.
In the afternoons I dress in the muse, exhausting myself on fantasies and rhyme, leaning on the evening light ‘til fallen asleep by. I accept lovers, and all of them are you.
Where Silence Thundered
We minded the crystal jewels from surfaces of moon glitter and rode them down snowy dunes into shadows of stillness where silence thundered.
I thank the gods for sweet night which opens heaven to my soul. I thank you, my sweet friend for flowering in my sight of joy. you coached the morning pastel colors to my door and covered my wakened eyes with your soft glow of rose hovering over mountain breasts.
Moments Of Ours
suddenly it hurts to think of you or touch lip to face and palm to falling hair. a thousand times we’ll never laugh together; time chews you open and I am alone. there are moments of ours – a kiss lasting or when you, with ancient hunger only, wet my hair with your tongue and chew soft circle of darkness in the gold. tell me the truth with your hands, you know that thought blows wild, invisible in the gathering woods; warming dragons’ bone dust, and century-old light to burning night, we will sustain the flesh of summer.
Apart - For Togetherness
Give me some air, Some room, SPACE For growing; For looking down And around. To me, Inside has to grow. All about you, I want to know The bits and pieces I want to sew, Creating the fullest life That we can have. We will make air, Room and space, And time for soul, Body and face; For smiles, laughter, and delight; For tears, turmoil, Pain, and empty nights; For rekindling flames; Relearning names; Contemplating from below, Aside and above: Time, space, room Researching the love That was there, Covered over and hurt; If it is true and strong Out it will spurt. So it begins – This experiment, Testing strongly If for each other We were meant. I throw myself in With strength; Confidence and grace, To let love Come back, Through time, Room, And Space.
Do I Reach You?
I feel, I can project my thoughts; My experiences; My feelings To you Across whatever time And distance separates. It is scary And exciting. You fill empty pockets In my being – Blank spaces In my thoughts; Dips in my emotions. Here, On the edge of so many things, Are you to be a part – A partner – A vehicle? A destroyer of recreation? What? I’ve been reaching out; I’ve been aching. Do I reach you? Can you feel those threads Moving around you, Running up your limbs, Caressing each patch of flesh, Brushing by and rubbing against Each hair, Resting in warm spots – Moist spots; Running and flowing With your juices, Being swallowed And entering the inside of you – Maybe becoming a part? Do you feel that? Do I reach you? I ache from Loving you.