Artifacts
Evidence of reality on the canvas birthed by the three of us creation of ours alive and real I can hear the painting sing a song of place and being.
Crepe Paper Skin
Watching my crepe paper Skin Slide Over the muscles I move As I reach for the tonic Each morning To give me the energy Of youth To age Through another day And see my skin Wrinkle And slide Again Tomorrow I think Of my mother’s hands As they aged around the Star sapphire That retained its…
Organic Life
You, who are not digested by the putrid decaying of organic life. Or a relationship. The life cycle is orderly to you who follow it roundinstead of controlling it, holding on to it,keeping it alive. Let it die. And be composted into new life. Let it go and be its next nature. Instead of preserved in a…
I’m stafford
I’m stafford The place you hold on to when you are lost and can’t decide which way to go. You tie yourself when the wind is strong. You are buffeted by the storm and taking on water. A protected cove. It’s stronger than the wind. To hold you safe, so you can decide. And when…
Grandfathers
They didn't know the wisdom of the past. Couldn't see the promise of the future. Never felt the fuzzy beard.Or learned to hold the rod and cast.They didn't know love's rootin unconditional eternal grasp.They thought that love is maternalAnd not the kind that's maskedIn concern for risk and safetyAnd found in rules that last.The entire…
Reinhabit
I cannot reinhabitThe soul that was mineEven when I look at photographsAnd try to rememberwho I used to be.The kind of SeptemberWhen it all came crashing down.
Soul carrier
This sack of meat which carries my soul should not be trusted with it it betrays my desire offends my aesthetic and isnt worthy of the task.
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