Here the poet stands in the familiar unfamiliar
You rub your eyes, face of the man unseen
The face is concealed only words can be heard
Words that rhyme and catch meaning
He gives and takes like a tide
stands still between roads
Observing the chaotic
the metaphor flows
The poet stands with words accumulated
He selects which ones highlight reality best
To conjure the desire for a glorious birth
To make way for a relieving death
Nightgown
Material slips easily up the leg
fresh out the bath,
next to the fireside
where hands wait.
like a wilderbeast grazing
slowly makes it's way over you
Slowly and sweetly open
hint of doubt
Then one of permission
as you give yourself
over without decision
The fire cracks
something pushes against the hottest point
It invites the intrusion
as if to absorb it's deeper meaning
Slow moan as it slides up
Carries it's intention to tighten and pulse.
To free burden,
Moving in further deepening
The fire roasts these bodies.
The full range of motion
running through you
lips to kiss
to tongue to drinking in one another.
The three boys peered down from the hill
Below stood the house they were raised in
The candle light in the windows lit up the wheat field nearby
A tall figure stood before the thatch house as if casting a spell
The figure wore a human skull as a mask
somehow had embedded goats horns into it
The wind blew slightly warm to the feel
The folding wheat sprigs exposed the figures gown
The children fixated on the figure
The oldest pointed out three other figures
partially absconded in the elms at the bottom of the hill
But moving around as if waiting for an invitation
The wind died down and a musket shot rung out
the children jumped in fright and ducked
As the blast echoed out across the landscape
The figure in the mask had disappeared
The three figures in the elms had vanished
A farmer appeared holding a musket and lamp
The children leapt up and ran toward him
"Father!"
The three childrens paddled their way through the dark
Approaching the yellow dim lit dock
Navigating through a narrow inlet
A distant harbor bell rings
The dark water below surges
Shimmering with the dock lamplight
The older child paddles from the back
The youngest paddles from the middle
The middle child rows firmly fromt he front
The narrow boat approaches the deck
The oldest child grabs the upright
tying the knot on quickly as the boat jerks
He jumps onto the quay deck
The middle child lifts the younger up
The oldest helps him onto the wood
The middle child takes the older child's hand and swings up
They extend upward like towers
With flames curling off them
The world needs tenderness
The world begs to be pillaged
Where there are empty houses
kindling awaiting for the flame
The fixed ready to be broken
Opening to the blows and fire
Wanting the wood of it's structure
To feel the lick and then turn ember
giving it's surfaces to further the fire
Until it's raging torrents of heat eat
The tree bark is covered in spines
It's all lit up by an aggressive sun
The forbidden illumination
Read through language of the sky
Tower coarse barren and slippery
The humid morning gives the thorns their silver
The treebark forms a steel dullness
The morning chirps with optimistic temperature
Hugging the spines of the tree
For beady eyes attached to focused hawks radiate
Yet they hesitate to risk their regal wings
For the promise of breakfast
The struggling lizard flicks up its tail
It stays high up behind it
it absorbs the rays of early afternoon
A drop of eater on the marble it sips
I will bring it back to life
It will raise it's head and pick out intruding insects
It will feed itself and grow it will reproduce
It will become a hurricane
A wall climbing creature
seeking it's piece of the sun and survival
recovering to creep and crawl
And calm my anxieties
