Silent in my soul
Drinking bloody concoctions
Mixed in a alchemists dream
Hedged in by fire
Wanting the burning to end
Resistance but my bags are packed
Deliberate steps into the trap
Nightmare’s reckoning
And dreams release
Taunted on all sides
Unable to escape
No home or safe harbour
Adrift
Cast free
The terribleness of freedom
Brought to the depths just for me
I was joyous in my ignorance
Joyous in my lack
Till, all unbidden, words were whispered
Words that I rejected
Words I wish I was fool enough to disregard
Now I am uncertain and my heart aches
Thinking and grinding over what was said and not
Strange to envy the oblivious
I who embraces enlightenment
The only thing to do is wait.
I who always has a plan, a contingency, is reduced to waiting,
Coincidentally cruel juxtaposition of my pagan name, if only I was less aware of the irony
Note: the emotions in this were real but based on a fallacy. I made a fledgling mistake. Given how long it’s been since I’ve had a standard date, I guess I should have anticipated this. This was no fault of the woman I was courting, for want of a better term, this all happened inside my own skull.
The wind as it moves the autumn leaves plays counterpoint to the hand cupping my knee,
moving to the silence
heat pouring out
Tension builds until it is unbearable
until we must speak or act
But there is only silence and the soft shush of a hand on fabric
Silence and the moment passes
I am alone in my longing
Alone, and waiting.
Death is the shadow at the core of the world. It moves down the elongated spirals, corridors of heat and pressure wending its way to the surface. Each of us has a death born in the fires of creation. It seeks us, all the long days of our lives.
For some of us, it finds us before our time. It walks beside us. A companion in dark places. For those of us lucky enough to have this, perhaps overly ambitious death, we are lucky. Lucky to know and acknowledge that this life ends.
To dance in the moment, to drink in celebration, to sing out. Not in defiance of death, in ending, but a celebration of life. You do not only live once, but each time you choose joy. Each love, each companion. Each is a lifetime lived in moments. A planet, a solar system, a galaxy. Making up the universe of your life. Until the end, when form breathes its last. An exhalation formed of stars
They dance in rebellious joy under the blood moon
Their bones and sinews
Tendons and tissues
Burning
Burning ferocity
They scream Agony
Triumph
Pain giving way
So suddenly it’s lack,
Exctasy
On the ground
Limbs extended
Necks curving upward
Mouths open
Eyes fixed to a point in the overcast
They howl with one voice
Self and other
In seamless union
Lavender scented smoke wafts
Caressingly into my nose
Floating forgotten
In sculptured
Dissonance
Wonderment unbound
Crystalline drops
Of heaven
Course through
My veins
What sacred ritual
Marks my passing
What madness
Pounding heart
Shadow locked
Trapped in voiceless
Dreams
I’m here
Trembling before you
Tongue dry
Unable to speak
Wanting nothing
Nothing more than your touch
Your breathe
Shallow
Uncertain
Heat
Syncopated rhythms
Bleeding from minute to minute
Tension sated
Soap bubble bursting
Sliding into contented
Dream
The dryad tree sits in the corner of the parking lot
Reaching out to an uncaring sky
It shivers in the cold
Falling flowers in a desolate dawn
Rain falling lightly on it’s outstretched limbs
Bringing forth new life
She dances
In the afternoon’s birthing light
Boughs weighed down with age
Beauty unrepentant
Dying in the frigid air
Its lovely weather for my love,
for her breathe and her whisper
the day giving way to darkness
the storm calling for joy
an exultation to her form
lithe and welcoming,
cold lips caressing my neck
drinking me in
strength slowly ebbing
sinking into oblivion’s embrace
Reserved in demeanor and sparing with speech, I sit in my walled garden. Surrounded by stone walls lined with spikes, the only entrance a single iron bound door with no handle or knob. The interior is covered in ivy. A meandering path lined with a hedgerow on the left and a small bubbling brook to the right, willow and hawthorn lining its far bank. Birds calling to each other filling the air. At the end of the path a small sand garden, patterned in a spiral. Small spires of feldspar reaching for the open sky dot the sand in an array that lays right at the border of order and chaos. A stone bench sits next to brooks end. Koi Dancing in the pond. Welcome to my garden. There is darkness here, in the hedgerow maze, secrets to discover. Delights to be shared and journey to be taken. Push the door in, for all of it’s austerity, there are wonders within.
Pelgris 