Spilling words

We overflow in the pool of life,
frozen and thawed
we expand and contract
reaching the edges of our journey.
Tipping factors on downward angles
our words spill out.
Running down to find the expanse of wide open spaces
freeing the thoughts to run like horses
or something much simpler
like the splash of milk on clean counters,
laughing at the actions from our youth.
We decorate the messes
as we float on the stream of days moving by
spoonfuls of goodness swallowed
words and deed of the kindest folk
that carry us through these cold times
and we wait on the sun to turn herself on,
clear the cobweb clouds
and let the warmth filter in,
soothe the crackling bones that scurry about
seeking warmth in pools of words
we immerse ourselves in this calm,
peaceful and quiet we listen to the heart
and open the windows to find the freshness,
and moisture will gather again
falling from tender skies
as we fill our cups
and spill the thoughts once again.

Lost in moments (free flow poetry)

Air heavy hanging
Suffocation of thoughts
as the music plays intermittent,
not sure where the flow is
only knowing
gotta go with the tune
playing his song
softly with inflection like a silent drum beat
cause the day is gone
as are you
tap tap tap goes the tympanii
and I don’t remember when the final concerto played
only that you aren’t here to hear
your heartbeat song
and I make no apologies
for you know me
know how it goes,
this rhythm
the beat in the silent night
we are harmony
the sky and moon
singing to those no longer a part
reasons and purposes,
as the air hangs heavy like a heart
beyond repair of the moment
I scream in the ebb
as silence catches me unaware
drowning in humidity heavy,
of a life remembered
I long to show you
as I sit here
scribbles on a vacant wall
will anyone remember with dawns light
the plight
of a poet in the shadows,
will anyone remember the name
of the girl undone,
unchained?
I sit here on the post
stoic and strong regardless
as days light passes
I rise
with the head on cotton pillows
comforted in dreams
and the thought of making it through
like hummingbirds and memories
they always rise to the surface
and a memory is just that,
a yesterday moment caught in the rearview,
disregarded as best we can,
slipping down into the horizon that awaits,
knowing it’s gonna be okay,
our sweet being
makes it that way
regardless of our wishes.

Layered lives

One upon one upon one
Varying hues to highlight
the wild side that lies somewhere in between
unseen in itself
but reflected when mixed
in just the right ways.
We move through days like tigers in fields,
searching for the next quarry,
knowing not what may lay in wait
to hinder the ease of the everyday,
subtle shades of passing days,
beneath the fullest moon of pinkish hues
we wait for the darkness to hide,
to become one wih the part we know so well,
to unite and be whole in and of our soul.
Still the trees will rise up to mark the passing sun,
the dial set to what will become,
ticking away like these thoughts that move
in their precision we are caught up
in the watching of what is,
knowing what will be as we sit idly by,
lost in the reverie of everything and nothing,
trapped in the cages built by the same hands that prison
we search blindly for keys
that sit just out of reach
fooled by the moon and her beauteous glow,
caught up still in what we know,
and what we choose to disregard.
So we climb higher looking still
and seeing the vastness of what lay before,
we wonder how to fly,
yet never daring to attempt to try,
fearful from each day that led us here,
we sit and watch
and then we gaze some more
baffled by this life,
never seeing the true reflection
from the layers we’ve added
and gathered
and buried
and what was is now foreign and new
confusing us by the coating
of spots instead of stripes,
torn apart by the clever
we gaze up above
wondering what
exactly
has happened.
Thoughts on a very long day, the full moon, the writings from others who touch us just so, and the hope with each day that comes, will bring the peace of answers we seek. All good my friends, tired and awaiting the moon filled sky….perhaps to tell me why? Why what? you may ask? With a smile she says, darned if I know😊💜🙏🏻☮