WORDS & PLACES

"ADRIFT"

Mostly I am no one.

For a long time I was a piece of driftwood wandering aimlessly.

Adrift...

softened by the waters and windblown sand

my heart carried no weight.

Tactical - with my finger tips

 I find meaning.

I idolize

I make war

and I’m mostly (not) sorry.

I enjoy the illusion that I am yours.

The audacity of me

 pouring this into empty air without dread.

Heavy waves

 the horizon just hanging there.

It’s another world

 a boundless zone

 the light is breaking

and I’m almost ashore.

"NIGHTBLOOMS"

The singing of flowers

and thorn-wrapped succulents echo.

All day I have sat here.

Waiting for substance, creating the perfect memory.

This is summer.

Fade into grass

into night

into constellations

into dreamscapes.

I wait for you here, referring back to nowhere every night.

I drink up more sea water questioning, “am I any closer?”

I awoke so light wanting to give you the sky
but my throat is on fire.

Clouds float by, always glistening and granting gentleness.

To survive, prescribe me hope...

certainty that the sweetest has yet to come.

"NOT BLUE"

Real bittersweet.

like the hibernating flowers bloom

so sweetly

while I hold tight and longingly to seeds I’d like to sow sooner. Where sweetness and bitterness

is swept to nothingness.

like the rain gathering in puddles proffering towards the ocean

as a wild and uncultured stream.

A conscious passion joined by the changing of the season,

not in heart but direction.

Amorously, I hold a humble appreciation

for what was and what is to come.

forever north

floating

and dancing for you  

- bittersweet but not blue.

"Validity"

 

What lies over the fence..

A drama like the rain that fell in handfuls last night

followed by the morning sun, 

the wet grass soft under my bare skin.

What flashed before me was a falsehood I already knew. blooming like petals, I believed their truth from time to time.

I fantasize.

    Yes, I dream. I hope way down for so many things.

Recklessly I demand them gone 

and they disperse to silence and dust.

With a bemused grin I think, “Offenses truly have no validity,”

and clear the moral fence.

I blew a kiss, tuned the commands out

and fell deeply into the ocean’s sweet serenade

     forever after.

"Fruits of Depth"   

After the rain passed... 

the ocean never looked as blue,

the pasture as green

the world sparkled anew and refreshed

replenished and quenched.

I’m not interested in the poised

give me your gritty, darkest depths

 your terrorized dreams.

The dimming of the day takes humility.

The voice inside me softens

suffocating any incompetence.

These portals grow freely

and I speak openly to them

 maybe for the first time.

Dig deeper.

Beat faster.

Bright colors beaming  - “You are all I truly need.”

Thoughts obscure

fear of depth - so loud I could touch it.

Broken love

bound tight

no room for imagination.

Please, dig deeper.

"Bright Burdock"

I didn’t know where I was going but it seemed important.

At dusk I went alone

thick grasses and bare kiawe.

Treading a dusty path

I embrace the last of the days sunlight spilling into the dark blue.

There I remember

how you brushed my hair back

and stared longingly at the slivered moon

as if you needed it to shine bigger, brighter. I’m seaside

I’m floating

I’m a witness again.

I see the burdock dried

desperate

and standing with power.

Flowers, flowers, feminine flowers.

I mean to leave but I stay longer

remembering

“Time is for dragonflies and angels.”

Purple hues calm my eyes

while my feet recollect the trail home.

"Cape Cod"

Muted clouds and soft waves

greet the pale coastline.
mists of sea water

strangely sweet 
and distant cries of salty gulls 

are part of the body I call home.
It was my last dream before waking. 

The rest gone, like lost ships in the night. 
In the fog I steadily recall

the seasons we once breathed.

Perpetual moments flickering

the past, present and the abstract.

I concentrate on the distance of what

I can’t understand.

Lost at sea..

I realize my longing

while walking your shores.

"Lady's Slipper" 

 

I could be an orchid.

A delicate orchid of the north, the lady’s-slipper.

Delicate, not to be confused with fragile nor weak.

The je ne sais quoi of her being cannot be tarnished

nor taken alive.

Think deeply before bending down

with intentions to break her stance for amusement.

An old tree stands beside her

holds no power but his own sacred greatness.

He knows that even if her world was to decay overnight

- her essence will live on

forever embedded in the roots of the forest.

Spring has returned and words are left unspoken

 she wonders if you’re stuck inside your heart.

She will continue to follow lonely roads

expecting nothing and hopeful for everything.

If that isn’t lovely, I’m not sure what is.

"A Morning Walk"

Our eyes met, locked and time stopped.

my eyes conveyed, fear not -

I am humbled by you and the sounds of your landscape.

I perch on the ragged fence line

what separates you and I 

and tilt my head at the wonder of your perfect existence

- unseen and impeccable.

The sound of high ocean winds

amidst the golden and green grass

 the sky shining - so placid and beautiful 

please let me stay in this moment a little longer.

You are not as self-aware as I

and I envy you for this.

Good morning and stay wild.

"Entranced Cacti"

Like a black bird flying away

a brave creature facing the day

the cactus withstands many waterless desert days in stoic patience.

Forgetting the rain

 as though daily life is but an idle thought.

Are you bored yet?

Branches grow, roots form and flowers die

I guess that’s how it goes.

I loved you then

 as cactus flowers seem to bloom in the night and now that’s gone too.

Beware of budding thorns

shifting shapes upon their own accord. Spiked hearts are deep

yet thoughtless

blooms fleeting

and spines leave you bleeding.

A volcanic bed decorated with crushed coral.

some pieces new, jagged, and rough

others smooth from life’s erosion.

Sitting in a hammock fixed to thick kiawe trunks,

I swing my legs with force...

momentum follows

and I become a pendulum.

Matching my mood

my pending pensive thoughts watch the world

the waves break melodically.

So unnecessary

 I kick my shoes off and give my gaze to the horizon where shapes emerge at the surface

and spout with great significance.

Brimming with illusion

unseen presences like these trace the contours of ones soul

 chanting divine mysteries full of knowing and bright light.

Oh, how well I wish them - do they know?

On a desolate beach pleasures can vanish fast

usually at dusk

when overarching shadows

subtly cast the inevitable fear that no face is forever.

"Angel Trumpets"

Outside my window
Lethally poisonous
Poised with allure
Stunning in scent and sight 
Casting spells with each new blossom and petal-fall like supernatural 
Like nature’s bitterness
Mouth open.. and
still tastes highly edible, intensely sweet 
Maybe the books were ill-conceived 
Maybe this is farewell 
Maybe this is fate 
Always returning to mind over embittered matter
Voodoo bouquets of Spanish Moss hang.. disorderly
 perfect
 an obsession
I must go there.
Down long dirt roads lit and silhouetted
by canopy cracks
 I fall in love again.
Beautiful isn’t it? A mystical expression. Nothing really happens unless we try to see it as something else. They say, "it is what you make it." Life is highly textured; you feel the grit of sand, softness in tears, the thick and teeming fibers of ones past. They say, "rainbows depict the promise of a new life." I feel my humanness today, each grain of it. Private, innate, and small. My own illumination, there is no other way so I devour it - piece by piece, before it’s too late. My sadness is real, though stupid, as eventually everything withers. My happiness too is either not real, cast away, or limitless. Again at 4pm I hope rain to fall gracefully before the soft grassland. Evening clouds, dissolving slow, bring forth the night sky to set sail on the day's completion. Rainbows, a medicinal seasoning, one of nature’s finest dreams. The future is still limitless and free. My how the light shines when the imagination pours past shadows and disdain.

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