The principle of super ghost

I used to subscribe to love like a magazine,
the covers changing
stories
and what lies
behind its writings
read

it can only work if we don't know what love is
as it sits or sleeps
how the sun and shade feel good
or being convinced


.....

about me

hiding each night
in a different
place

unconsciously placed
weightless as the new sky
the language between our dreams


like stepping over something slowly
in the dark
this deep falling
this love
warmed light


..

christmas wine for me an you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

my ribs open and take you in

I sat with spring like an old friend
in the park
before she was born
untethered of wonder
shuddering
to let go of things
the way they sink,
everything into you



.......

"10,000 years from the end of time"

bare as the whole thing contained
in a storm paused near the horizon
love

left to grow into lines of slow dreams
woven over into ourselves
and at each distant passing
all the words meant for us alone
beyond the delicate sayings
all theeze thoughts you gave me



.

bye 2012

  

I made this small painting from memory. I haven't seen snow in a long time. 

It was 83 degrees in Florida today and it has been very dry here.

Wishing all a happy Holiday season  :)

..

we take apart the world piece by piece

and put it back together
in an exchange of syllables
our silent responses draining out
from our insides

the sky caresses my forehead
memoirs from another continent pass the time

my eyes are silent
hearing only of  how you are my love
every word becomes you


..

forgettable as this title

Thinking through
planning carefully
jumping in to get closer

what was it we lost dreaming forever?


...

the belly dust poem

Dear spotted spot on the ground
whose black was half gotten up

whose weilding weight is numbness
light as silvered dew

like the tears we make to feel
our hearts

....

more on this

i feel youre still here perhaps somehow
holding on
as I hold on
to your dark lashes
and drink the salt from your tears


I fall into   a


memory and
I
see
the folded shadows turning to dreams
I run back into your eye s lids to sleep
so I can dream inside your eye's
mind


.

The Language Of Hornets

Thinking seems useless
so we whisper to each other
gently
unheard
and smile with the 
inside of our hearts

curle dinto
a circular
beating

as the sound of rain outside plays its lullaby
through magnetic fields of  light



..

The Stingler Of Comforts Come

tears like rain from a
black cloud
so black the rain itself
is pulled inside
 
as the bee buzz  
escape assures me
me, this morning
doesn't know how to be mean
and pretty at the same time.


.