...this perfect kiss.These flowers which risewithin the glades, the lightbent by branches, the hum of bees and sap.The touch of, the kiss of, sunupon forest floor. The slow arching neck,ancient heron, aloof in shaded stream.The beating wings, no Leda here,a willing joiner, raising lipscaressed with tender presses,the light which heats.The moment of beginnings.
a river in my hands
Rattling around…rattling around…somewhere in my head thissound is rattling,breathing, likea living thing…. This sound, breathingmurmuring…living river,which tumbles rocks,carries white, rising foamand eager swimmers This river full,life, verdant, green rootsgrasses on the bank,the slippering, long, thickfishwriggling into the muck,riding the curves, the… Water flowing, veinsof blood, of water,coursing through wantonbeating, ragingheart,this primal ride,the murmur risingto screamraging, … Continue reading a river in my hands
This storm
The slight chillthat runs through the heated air –blue skies edging with grey,shades upon shades emerging. The bilious clouds expand,fluffed up by wind-filled mouths,rise along the blue,climb it’s back and rises along it the wind which pushes,kisses the backs of the clouds,eager urging, the grey banks forwards –the overwhelm the sky, fill itform a canopy … Continue reading This storm
Protected: metamorphing (message me for password)
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flowering
Toes at the waters edge.The water rolling forward.My feet covered. The push and pull of water and sand. Time without end.
Her face
A waterfall of dark hair,frames her face - focusingeyes that grace you,a gift when they find you,to burn through your lies,the untruths you sell(mostly to yourself,the hell of twisted introspection) The lips, curve - paint the air,an artist framing you.Your tremble as she measures,her whispersweighted with her foreign tongue,pronouncementssighsand the sudden soundsof surrender Her face, … Continue reading Her face
The Ninth
This body, a river splitting deep woods,a rushing babble over rounded pebbles.The doe lowering her head, takes drink,arching sinuous neck that reflects in ripple water.That neck in memory, fevered dreams -arching back and forth, hair whipping.Your knees bent alongside rising hips,this river splitting your fragrant wood.
When the Salt Blew
In woods, along the ocean,the trees feed along briny streams,the moon feeding,then starving,day upon day -time without end In woods,forest that turn towards marsh,estuaries holding heron,dinosaur-like beasts taking wingbeating along curving waters,disappearing into copses of white cedarscrubby pine, bent by winds In woods, where I fed her grapes, a picnic my young heart had packed,the … Continue reading When the Salt Blew
Une fois que je su qui j’étais
It unspools at her feet,a late night sky, clouds risen,of ribboned fabric. Names and titles stitchedline by line, needle-pricked fingers spilling blood,infusing the weave, Your name, caught up in there.Mine entwined with it, curving behind and along,shaped like lovers -shaping a tree embracing another -roots and branches wrappingshoots and leaves that tremble,touchfall Now, give rise … Continue reading Une fois que je su qui j’étais
At the heat
Smeltingis a major achievement.The heatfurnaces, white hotmolten ore, flowing metalthat's oozing, surging, reforming,informing heat, building The sweatand burnt flesh,smelters and stokers.The bent, and arching backs. The sinews, and the heat.
