Category: Blogging 101

When Evening Falls

When evening falls

I come to this place.

I like the way the colors of night

gather to say goodbye

to the colors of day.

 

The birds claim their beds

with songs of belonging,

and the rustling brush whispers

as the chipmunks find their dens.

 

The evening stars

peer through the forest canopy,

bright and clear.

 

A bright moon pokes its shiny face

over a distant mountain like a child

burrowing from under the covers

to favor me with a smile.

 

And somewhere nearby

is the sound of running water

I’ve never tried to find.

 

I name it

Evening Falls,

and take the pleasant path

toward home.

 

 

Fill My Hand

Come fill my hand with yours,

my love,

for mine is empty too.

And since we both have

empty hands

I’ll give my hand

to you.

And now let’s fill our eyes,

my love,

with one another’s gaze.

And finally let’s fill

our hearts

with fullness of our days.

One day they’ll say of us,

my love,

in far and distant lands,

‘They changed the world

together

by filling empty hands.’

Can’t Swallow Your Poison

I can’t be myself within your parameters

that define me according to what

you think

my limits

should be.

I don’t only belong in the places

you tell me

I can go.

My mind is not limited to your perceptions

of what

I am capable of achieving.

My freedom is not contingent

on your condescension.

My life

is not yours to take

because

you’re afraid.

My will

is not yours to mold because

you hate

what makes you afraid.

My color is not an accident.

My true ancestry is not diluted by you.

My creativity need not celebrate you.

We are on this sphere by divine will.

You are in my sphere through no choice of my own.

But understand, I will not swallow your poison.

You belittle our massive, unspoken love

for this nation of bondage; whenever we are asked to serve,

we do it with dignity and honor, but not at the expense

of our dignity in service to your hypocrisy.

I will not give you water for your pill of denial,

and I will not drink the poison you’ve

slipped into my life.

I give you back your cup, untouched.

Partake of your own bitterness,

And when you leave

I will place coins on your eyes

for the ferryman,

because I won’t carry the weight of

your ignorance on me

anymore.

 

 

 

Plunder

Into my life you came,

bold against the rising sun,

your wind-tossed locks alluring,

your bright, bold eyes searing.

 

And I opened my chest to give you the contents

of its heart, and at first you treasured them.

The glorious days of sailing with you

were warm and secure, with clear skies and

wide horizons.

 

But in time, you craved not the warmth of my heart,

preferring the cold hardness of gems and coins.

Not the stable strength of my arms,

but the fickle roll of riches.

 

Turning yourself to seawater,

you slipped from my grasp

and left me no choice, set me adrift

with no anchor, no oar.

 

Under the stars my heart withered.

The sun-kissed days grew dank with brine,

and the raucous racket of overbold gulls

pursued my foundering lifeboat.

 

I dreamed that in a reef of nascent coral

I put the seawater to my lips as if to kiss you

once more,

but therein lied a fatal thirst,

and under a high tide moon,

I spilled it and left it behind.

 

What remains ahead is unknown, uncharted,

yet with a sense of direction and purpose,

of longing fulfilled, a calling realized.

As the gull calls fade, the windsong rises.

 

And I know that in the distance,

a paradise awaits my arrival.

I shield my eyes from the sunlight

dappling the dancing waves,

and sail on to fate’s warm hearth,

alone

but finally

free.

3 a.m.

At 3 a.m.

they come to play,

disturb your sleep,

disrupt your day.

 

They sing and giggle

out of sight.

They cry and cut you

through the night.

 

“They don’t exist!”

the people say.

The creatures like it

just that way.

 

Their smiles malignant,

gleaming white,

‘Your blood so red,

it tastes so right.’

 

And in the sunrise,

glowing gold,

your heart is still.

Your flesh is cold.

 

At 3 a.m.

they come to play,

cavort, and

steal your soul away.

Darkling Water

Down by the river,

she runs through

the night.

 

Shade alabaster.

Shrouded moonlight.

 

Some rich man’s wife.

Some farmer’s daughter.

Some say she haunts

by the

Darkling Water.

 

Some say they’ve

seen her

run through the trees.

 

Some say she cries out

with keening and pleas.

 

Some say her pale hands

are dripping with blood.

Some say she’s lying so still

in the mud.

 

No name is given.

No questions asked.

Sitting on mossy stones,

in moonlight basked.

 

Chills when she looks at you,

grasps at your sleeves.

Crying, she clutches you.

Spectral heart grieves.

 

There’s no escaping now.

With her you go,

caught in the current’s

ethereal flow.

 

Some rich man’s wife.

Some farmer’s daughter.

Some say she haunts

by the Darkling Water.

 

Moon Song

Nothing between

me and heaven.

 

I waited,

watched the moon rise,

saw the earth spin

to look away,

 

But I did not.

 

The wind rose

to pay homage

to its lunar jewel,

 

And clouds

slipped across

its sun-kissed span,

 

a wolf’s eye

rimmed with kohl,

 

A lover’s eye

in a keyhole,

 

a peering beast

rising from

sleep.

 

In the night-blue verdant

branches of forest pines

and late summer leaves

the wind sang.

 

My heart found the harmony,

and for a fleeting moment

I was a floating note,

 

Unbound

in

Moon Song

 

No Reason

In the end

there was

no reason

 

Smoke

and fire

and blood

 

Spattered

on my face

and hands

 

Insanity

a flood

 

In the end

there was

no reason

 

Faithless, loveless dread

 

shook

my world

and left me

 

breathless, heartless,

cold and

Dead.

In Word and Deed

In word and deed

I swore my fealty,

took the knee

and wore the ring.

And yet it

stopped not

your cruelty

to me

and everything

I held to be true

of love and loyalty,

valor and fidelity.

And so I withdrew

when love’s pale pallor

found no reciprocity.

I went inward indeed,

and have emerged as

something more,

just less

the burden of you.

No need

to carry on

the carrion

of love.

 

Silent Thunder

I heard it call

so clearly.

Nearly went deaf

from the

rumbling roar

of its

cloud shattering fury.

I walked the beach

alone

that rainy day

and watched the heavens

darken.

Harken to the 

thunder’s commands.

Lightning pulled its

pale lavender tresses down

and kissed the ocean’s face

in heated passion.

Crashing, the waves

sent their foamy fingers

to shackle anchors

to my ankles

and pull me inside

and down

to drown

in fluid beauty.

Drawn to the edge, I wandered.

Challenging.

Foolish.

And the thunder saw me

and ceased its call,

cut its command.

I waited, dreading what I wanted

until

the panoramic parting

of the clouds

let through a patch

of wan sun.

The thunderous voice

began to soften,

and finally, mercifully

went silent.