Oh No

Trapped in the web work of hope and loss

Her pain is my pain

The butterflies of juxtaposition

Dove tail night and day

I fear the smile of hope is being submerged

In the shadow of despair

There are so many losses on this battlefield

There is so much injury here

If I could rain flower pedals

To pillow and buffer her

I would

Her pain is my pain

There is still hope nested at the corner of her smile

Please pull the web work down

Foreground doesn't have too be defined by background

Image and context are separable

Tears don't have to define the day

Her pain is my pain

Absorbed in the Moon Light

Harmonica in the moon light
Silhouettes against the blue satin night
White splashing light on the ocean

The lover swings above it all

Waiting for her desired
She is full as I am empty

My unity is else where

My transcendence

Is into the wind in the grass

My trail is solitary and unifying at the same time

Yet I miss the skirt

On the swing

A Voyeur's Embarrassment

There was something wrong with the tango
The turquoise passionate kicks black lit
By the violet electricity of her skirt
Accommodate the thrust of the dance
Yet the purse of her lips flexed tightly
I sat in a pose of remorse
I drank her succulent lips with my mind's eye
Most strangely her lips at that moment
Became wedded to his
My gaze a voyeur's embarrassment extracted itself
Light on violet and turquoise cascaded in ever
Refined gradated harmonies of love
This beauty was besides itself
I was on the other end of the kaleidoscope
I could see this beauty belonged to the universe

Branches Above

Is anyone ever allowed to live

In the silhouetted grey night sky
Those of us who inhabit the darkness
On the branches of leafless trees
We wonder if you will leave us alone

The night winds blow through our feathers
Never have you asked if we are cold
You fools we don't have extra blankets
In the middle of the night
All we have are the deserts of unrequited justice

Once in a while the naive evoke angry screams from us
We caw screams of stupidity
We caw warning
Their cavalier blackens the night further
Do they expect me to share my insects with them

Authentic Morning

I had an authentic morning

It was one of those moments

When I knew who was watching my life

I caressed the flowers on the table

I had no idea what they were

I knew of their beauty

But my mind spun in the vortex of their context

The colors were so indistinguishable and yet iridescent

What is this lack of definition

Yes I exist in this performance art

Yes I am part and parcel

Our fragrance is pungent with satiation

In Between

The errant flourishes of hair laid across her face
Without her knowledge or acquiescence
Was she asleep or in bliss that she didn't
Notice this intrusion
Her silhouetted head was buoyed in the atmosphere
By the effervesce of being
It was clear there was no beyond or residue
It was as if the sun on her face was enough
I was here with her
I had no relationship with her
I was merely one of the strands of hair that webbed her face
I could feel the sun heated satin of her skin

Artichoke Rose Pedals

The artichokes rose pedals weighty with meat

Needed to be peeled away from her body

The fingernails struck the tap plate of the flamenco guitar

Her crucifix hung between breasts draped in red cloth

She kicked up the hem of her red skirt

Her red shoes echoed of hammered wood

The guitars rasquedo strum fired her passions

I could feel pedals pulling away the exterior of her heart

With an impassioned demand of her castanets

She made clear she was offering her pristine soul

I inhaled deeply of her rose fragrance

To squelch the fire I needed another glass of Cabernet