Coasting

Not East or West
Ghosts of the light
midnight sweetness like the lost thought
caught in a lyric
from a sad girls eyes
captured on the disc
moving round in time machines,
some coast of a memory
washed away.
Playing the games
as darkness keeps falling like
rain that forgot to come,
so we wait
soaking in the warmth remembering
yesterdays that soothe like a compress
and tired eyes close
as the skin on tile cools
like ice
still melting one drop at a time.
She is the poet of a place foreign to my senses,
captured in photographs
as she sings to me
the lullabyes that calm
songs of video games and blue jeans
stirring the ghosts
spoon by spoon
kitchen implements that create
like brush and word
and how for just a moment I knew I could be her
except for the fear
that always gets in the way
of the simplistic recipes
on how to build
the perfect creation.
Listening to Lana Del Rey (Video Games, West Coast and Blue Jeans) letting the mind decompress….lost in thougt as this girl is wont to do….no apologies….just letting it go….being. Youtube the three songs…..give a listen and drift into the sultry voice….quiet bliss.

Grace

We are but ghosts of our unknown selves

mysteriously drifting with timeless stealth

apparitions of our former lives

caged, entwined throughout our life

we slip the bonds of tired thought

and move to places we’ve often sought

while floating on high we find our course

and disappear into nothing voids of the source.

We give away the best of worlds

within imagining endless source

till the cup is empty

the well runs dry

it is only then we begin to try

to find our way back on the road of us

we take each step on this endless path

and gaining ground we sometimes fail

in lessons learned we still prevail.

The spirit strength rebuilds the shell

where a magic lived that we had heard them tell

and we close our eyes and see anew

a beautiful moment of truth shine through

and so close to source we begin to feel

each birth, each death

each good and bad

and in between the thoughts we’d had

we finally stand and take our place

whilst gowned in our redeeming grace.

Have you seen it?

I think I may have misplaced
Or perhaps lost my poem….
It was in fact quite good,
Although I may have dropped it
As I tripped over the bones
Moving in the dark like a ghost
Ethereal and not quite there,
Or perhaps I lost it in the rain
As the hounds sniffed the ground
Meandering around
Passing time just doing
Nothing….
Maybe they fell in the toilet
As I reached into the bowl bottom
The two pennies from my pocket
Heads up of course, good luck?
Does that count for extra wishes
As my hand pulls them out
Shaking off the excess
And thanking the heavens it was
A clean porcelain holder,
In the safety of home.
As the cat rubbed her damp sticky fur
Shaking the coat on fresh jeans,
I notice the thickness
Bending over to stroke
The plush and get a swat.
I’ve lost my poem,
Somewhere this morning it sat on the edge
A humpty dumpty wanna be,
Falling into pieces
As the coffee moved too slowly through
So if you find it,
Please forward to me
Collect no charges
And just for fun
A photo of a cat
Just because
I’ve gone crazy like that.

A rough morning, topped off with my change falling in the lol…not the brightest thing to do….sorry for my morning insanity. Peace out, K

Suspended

Drawn to the hole in the ceiling of my thoughts

The smallest place where the stars whisper secrets

Falling against the backdrop of night

These days overshadowed by a moon so bright.

I caught a glimpse of blue

Un impeded by the pushiness of clouds

Suspended I drift

Stopped at the glass above me,

Held in by the walls and the chill

Of a strange October day.

I look up the see the confetti

Leaves falling as far as the eye can see

And they mirror the soul as they meander their way

Touching down like tissue paper

See through shells of their yesterday

Faded to yellow and brown,

Having shed the Rose red gown

As they had lived one last day

Waving to the mere mortals down below

Never realizing the ball must end,

And here they sit

Reflective images of my thoughts,

Sitting idle pressed to a clear view

Outside peering in,

Waiting for the next journey to blow them away

Into the earth

Death that comes on another day.

Encroachment

Words
More words
Wreaking havoc
With a heart adrift.

Pain
Regaled worth
I cannot say
Beyond the margins firmed.

Lost
Thoughts blown,
I cannot help
This overloaded circuit
Like broken fuses meld.

Make it
Take it back
To yesterday again
Whole, complete start now.

Photo by: http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7368/9359771597_986b1d07f7_z.jpg

Little time to write this week….continuing on…..

A heart alive so near to me
A voice from an ocean adrift
Bobbing like bottles
Needing to read
The note within
Meant for me
To set me back
In subtle sanity
Between the anchors
I have no home
Adrift
Afar
And quite alone.
I hear your voice
Miles stretch
Yet it is not you
Just the man behind the curtain
Who leads astray
And I am not blind
Yet,
Pretending to be that way
If that is what
It takes the truth
Defined by love
Oh pity the fool
Thinking otherwise
The drama reigns
The actors on stage
I take a bow….
And walk away.
Exit stage right…..enter storm…..(applause)

Middle ground

Leaning into warmth
Caught between night and the break
Of another solitary thought
Like a sun rising
Dawning on the conscious state
Whispered dreams
I revisit.
The middle ground
Sleep to wake
Darkness under the lids
Like shades drawn
I cannot remember
And I find this sad
Like a missing memory
Where I could not recall
Your name
Your face.
I know it is there
As I stand in a field
Surrounded by the scent
Of fresh dug earth
But I cannot leave this place
Cannot wander to find
Like a stone lost amidst the rubble
I call your name
And awaken to dark moving
Into the light
Of a midnight to dawn thought.

The joys of spring bring the pollen and I am finding when on my Claritin, I lose the clarity of my dreams. I will keep searching the memory bank, as I know it is in there between the dark and light waiting.

Into spheres of bliss

Dreams carry me through
The darkest landscapes filled
The terror of helplessness
Lost and sinking
Further in.
Lights shine beyond reach
As I look up to see your face
And you pull me through this jungle
The chocking evil place.
I find we are moving
In this blue ocean world
Far away from the things
That pulled me below
And I feel the calm within
As I surrender to this,
The soft way you carry me
Like a boat gliding on waves
And I lay back down
Breathing in and out
Feeling the swell of the water
Motion rocking me
Back and forth
I surrender to the next image
As the dream flows
Into the spheres of bliss.

Photo found on Pinterest

New horizons

Skies and seas
Of deepest blues
Clouds up high filter
Daylight through.
A bridge to nowhere begins
Right here
And new horizons that seem so near.

I call to you
From windy shores
I listen in shells
For echoes unheard,
I whisper the wish
On midnight stars
Sailors direction
To guide them by.

I feel the water
My clothes hang wet
Heavy dragged down
The murky depth,
I grasp to the surface
For air to breathe
The horizon of sky
Too far to be seen.

Washed up on a lonely shore
Sand caked eyes
That see no more,
A breath of air
To fill my lungs
As sun moves through
To warm the soul
I move to land
I’m lost no more.

Waiting ashore

He watched as his boat drifted away
sad to know he missed the moment,
she was on board
daylight would wake her soon,
He had slipped away in the night
to fetch her a ring of gold,
to make her his
to show the love
his words could never quite say.
He watched his life
heading for the horizon
with no goodbye
no word of his plan
was ever spoken
and time slipped by
as he searched for what was right,
the perfect one,
as delicate as her.
What would she think
as she awoke and went to find
the love she had found
on this vacation trip
was now left far behind.
Would she cry
would she care
He pockets the box and walks away,
opportunity lost
but will it come again,
he wonders as his heart breaks,
feels the dull ache
and knows the answers will come
someday perhaps,
just not right now.

Just trying out a short pop of fiction….

She sells

She walks the dunes
the midnight hour
calls to her like the witches
of the deep,
she sells her soul
on sandy shores
searching for her pirate king.
The howling winds
batter silken dress
hair once calm now flies
like seaweed washed on
empty beaches.
Shells and sea glass
mark her passage
like footprints
moving in and out
back to the depths
back to her love
back to her life.