Walk across, no, skip across, no, dance across a varnished floor
because of vehement passion or a whimsical thought, or curiosity, or…..
And where you step, the floor will bloom proverbially
to better embrace your gasping life (your life which is too alive for earth’s current amount of oxygen).
You may open your drawer of melancholy… or your cabinet stuffed with mischief… or feel under your bed for that extra song…
and it will all become you. Can’t you see…
As the floor extends its genuflections, and the walls bend toward your magnetic heart,
You make the oxygen fresher
You sprinkle the world (i’ll help you flood it)
With bouncyponderingbrilliantlythoughtfulglorious joy.
Fingers burn
Memories churn
Strings call
Doors fall
Beginnings end
Chords bend
Realities pass
(silver glass)
Voices bleed
Colossal need
Patience wanes
Strength remains
Details hold
Phrases mold
Stars breathe
Faces wreath
Acronyms fly
Say goodbye
Crimson pales
Unicorn tales
Emeralds leap
Secrets keep
If I was a hummingbird, I could fly right through a wire fence.
And make up the most incredible wing-hand-shakes.
Perhaps there could be a hummingbird orchestra. We would harmonize our different hum tones. I wonder who would direct it… maybe a bigger bird like a Cardinal. I wonder if there’s a Pope of the Cardinals..?
If I was a hummingbird, I would drink the dew off the dandelions and make faces at the squirrels. (And if you were a hummingbird too, I promise that I would share the sugar-water.)
Carving my mask
All that I ask
Is to look like the others
Better wouldn’t be bad
-
Absense of questions
Amounts to deceptions
I bury my burden with no S.O.S.
-
Do I seem strong?
Put together?
I find that it’s better
To be be weathered
Than untried.
-
But in asking
I admit I do not know
Owning weakness
Takes more strength
Than it will show
In my quarry of lies
By the light of truth’s glow
I memorize
My reflection
While you continue in buoyant and careless metre, scattering a poem beneath your feet,
sheltering weary laughter,
and rhyming all the cares of the world….
What knowledge can be found in your ruby heart of legend long-buried,
or songs sung in whispers,
or forgotten monotone fears?
[Are words not felicitous?]
Readers of this blog should prepare themselves for an impending small deluge of short and possibly ambiguous posts.
