Having come from the seas of your storms and decades of disquiet, I step, directionless, on an unmoving Earth. Being tooled for havoc, I despair of knowing what might fill this brazen peace, this wild surcease.
[Art: The Ship, by Salvador Dali]
Category Archives: relationships
Womb
Do not speak of it.
Do not see me.
Give what you have to give,
willing or no,
and don’t mind the scars.
The remnants of your gown,
oft removed,
keep us coming back for more.
But, in time,
you will womb a tree
that reaches to Heaven.
***
[Art by Zdzislaw Beksinski]
Delinquents
Firefly
All the days that I knew you, you hummed while you were working. No one ever had to tell you what to do. Most of us smiled as you bustled about. Some rolled their eyes, but I thought of you as a bee going from flower to flower. You made a song, and the angel was in the details.
***
Art: “As the Volante”, by Remedios Varo
Gently, gently
Though my bones are broken,
I will stand erect for you
while you’re in this room.
Would a nicer house help us?
One with rooms further away,
but with furniture placed more warmly?
Each day,
the headlines grow more stale,
and I despair of a gentler world.
***
Art: Litzlberg am Attersee, 1915, by Gustav Klimt
Goodnight
Mister whiskers, curled up in dream. You, in the faded recliner, the motors of your snore like a cheetah’s purr. The TV on mute in blue aquarium light. Outside the window, a borealis of feathering snow. And I, in a sated sigh, put my feet up too. We go gently into that goodnight.
The Garden
“I have a hunger” –
Those words,
spoken in a formal manner,
were as stillborn, as heavy as a stone
cradled in an apron.
And, what does one do with this thing you’ve said-
you, who were always the comic,
furthest from the dead.
Taken aback,
in slow shock I cup your hand-
not leading you to bed,
but into nightfall’s garden.
We sup on the strange swirl of universe.
Belongings
A broken lace.
A secret place.
A baby face.
A bell.
A ponytail.
A woodland trail.
A sunlit vale.
A spell.
***
Photo: Pinterest
Serendipitous
As if the deck had been shuffled
by some calculating clown,
we were thrown together.
More than once. More than thrice.
Our two wrongs.
But, oh!
You made me blush
with your side-eyes and staccato smiles.
Guilty am I of grievous commissions in a secret heart.
***
Desperados
~I drove a car two hundred miles today. I know we’re not supposed to hug, but a woman cried in my arms as I despaired for her world. She said you are my big brother, then pushed me away. At home, the cat follows me. There is food. What could he be needing?~
Aremyfeetofftheground 