Nothing to Say

It's a perfect moment in an imperfect world
And I have nothing to say.

Because when you've run all night
Sprinting through every dream
With muddy feet and dew soaked arms
Stopping only for a moment
To pull your companion
Under the shade of a willow tree
Steal a kiss and carry on
Laughing and stumbling
Till the first light of morning
In another world.

There is nothing left to say.

3 Ships

I saw three ships like wicks of steel 

Blazing from the glass dance floor of salt and sand

Concealing hulls of kerosene tied to my heart

Burning and churning in the salt wind

Yearning to drift further on and deeper still

With flits of fire extinguishing as it escapes

This love pulling fervently

With knots and ropes soaked with passion and desire

Making stronger the raging fire within me

Intertwined and inner-lined

Sinking distraction and diversion as it pulls me down

With the sea in my lungs I die to everything else.

Take me away with the flames of these ships

Toss me aside in the waves of their reflection

Turn me and press me further to make me yours.

Cradle me and all that I love

In the warm current of your obsession of affection

And drift with me and these three ships as we burn.

My Sunday

I open my eyes, blinking in the darkness
Peering through the black air
I close my eyes and breathe
This is my Sunday

My smile breaks across the light sheets
Hugging the pillow tight
I stretch my back and legs
This is my Sunday

I sink into the mattress comfortably
Letting the darkness hang around me
I listen to the ocean
This is my Sunday

I have nothing planned and nothing required
Drifting back to sleep
I feel content and free
This is my Sunday

Low Fuel

On my - way to the farm
Holding - items in my arms

Making faces - as I pass the store
Yearning - to be something more

Gently - shuffling dirt and dust
Over the - binding to be trussed
Dare I - say it? Yes, I must!

! - Die.
! - Low Fuel.

Little Star

Twinkle, twinkle
Little star
How you calm
This wandering heart.
Across the sky
Of dreams so wide
I have lost
My need to hide.
Twinkle brighter
Little star.
Finally be
Who you are.

Say No

I don't feel like doing
What you want me to do anymore.
And I never said so before,
Because I didn't want to be
That glitch.

But it would seem my desire
To comply with your will
Was another way for me
To assess value to
A thing I fight to prove
To myself.

There are a lot of missing peices
That I'm looking for still.
And this one eluded me
For a very long time
But fits nicely in the empty space
It fills.

Letting go, saying no,
And learning to walk away.
Gems spilled in my hand
Placed in a soft velvet pouch
With a drawstring to keep
Them safe

All because someone decided
To take a moment to look
Beyond their own troubles
And be more than just someone
Just like everybody else
Tonight.

Cracker Jack Prizes

Shake your finger in my face.
Tsk, tsk! Shame on me!
Disapprove of my decision
To believe in fairy tales.
Rearrange my sock drawer
With the stitching facing north
Rows of six and eight and two
Rarely ever worn.
Toss a beanbag through the hole.
Ding, ding! Winner!
Cheap toys and styrofoam.
Cracker Jack prizes.
Hang on. Don't breathe.
Hold your breath for a sec
While we figure out
Where this diamond came from.
Lecture me one more time.
Buzz! Final answer!
It's worth finding out.
I'm willing to be wrong.

today.

I missed you today.

When I closed my eyes.
And I smelled your skin.
When I touched my lips
And I felt your mouth.

When I stepped outside
And I heard your voice.
When I felt my heart beat
And I touched your fingertips.

When I looked away
And I saw your face.
When I stopped to cry
And I touched your smile.

I missed you today.

Paint a Memory

Paint a memory with me
of a secret place
that stirs the senses.

Caverns to an underworld
of knowledge and warmth
like eyes that speak.

Magnetic force, like a kiss,
sharply drawing breath
and pulling at the chest.

Butter, warm and smooth;
soft and vibrant to the taste
like skin in the sun.

A striking hammer
like powerful hands
of strength and accuracy.

Syrup, poured over,
like a gift of laughter
tickling my mind.

Gasping steam filling the sky
like the breath of a lover,
hot and tantalizing.

Hustle, bustle and buzzing of movement
like the swell of a bruise
on your outer thigh.

A sunset, slowly drifting
like the soft collapse
of bodies beyond the horizon.

A place of dreams and fantasy
like a vapor of thought
vanishing before it can exist.

super pretty

super pretty
floral city

your face is pale
and gritty

safe in cash
and strangely stashed

your chest is vacant
and smashed

fragile fold
flaky gold

tomorrow could be
warmer I'm told

wilted stone
crumbling drone

tomorrow could be
a long ways off

but maybe you'll
make it home

this time