Spaces between space

the flick of a mote drifting
into the nebula of a lost thought
and I sit aware,
so very conscious of the relevance
of time passing in those moments.
Water turns muddy
the passages between where it flows
coagulated and slow like a mind weary
and I scoop and drop by drop try
like rain adding just a bit more to loosen
and allow the dam to burst,
letting the rushing stream become,
yet it stands thick like molasses
cooling in the midnight hour
still never brought to its glory,
to run free and moving swift
so it lay silent
beneath a sun so far away.
Muddled memory reawakened
as the energy moves in reverse,
headlights in the distance passing
and the wind waiting to turn balmy,
we are left in this atmosphere of silence,
cooled and chilled by March that lingers
and in the darkness of night,
the jasmine calls to be honored
beneath a sliver of light,
there is a weight
heavy and cloying reaching out
and tickles the memory of what is now lost,
the empty spaces between space
where laughter sat,
she blooms suddenly after these years as if to say,
remember….always remember
and shine.

The end tether

Together searching down corridors

colors and words flow faster than light,

five hundred-dollar hair and a flair

for not knowing when to stop.

Swirling like a dervish

up and down like a ping-pong ball,

light shining from golden teeth

she speaks of God who sits beside

on her shoulder

and I wonder why I feel

the compression of the energy

draining away till I move past her

each step so hard I move towards the light

of the sun that found the plate-glass window

leaving the wound top spinning

behind me.

God bless you another says

and I look confused as I hadn’t sneezed

yet she gazes beyond me to the girl

and the sight as she sways and moves,

taking selfies of colors

wanting it all

as she dreams in her mind and speaks

to the silence around her,

the others stare and I compose

moving back towards the whirlwind

tornado girl up and down into her sky,

she smiles and asks Libra or Gemini

but I can only reply


and she laughs out loud and says she should have known

for I exude the peace she searches for

yet hasn’t found

for the pills bringing her too far up

to feel she can get back down,

I keep distance as the pull of energy shifts

and I breathe in and out

letting her go about her moment

set free in the candy factory she says,

just wishing she had all the money in the world

to gorge on all she sees,

dyes and nails and pretty things

for inside she feels the ugliness that must be covered,

and she takes God in her hand

with a smile and a twirl

buys a few items but not all she wishes,

with not enough cash

and credit cards that speak denial,

leaves from where she came in.

Thoughts on a long event at work yesterday with a reformed junkie with a gorgeous dye job and gold teeth who spent so long in the store, taking pictures of hair colors, talking to herself, me and anyone who would listen (which was no one except me) and though I could feel the energy being sucked away from myself, had enough sense to walk away and gather up before engaging her again. A nice girl who has found God, has three children and a husband of 17 years waiting at home, but was a non-stop whirl of talk and movement. I do not know her name, but prayed for her and her family regardless. Just had to write something to get it out. Peace and blessings, K



Lost souls moving in circles

I see through the glass so much more beyond,

between words spoken

and I am not lost but found

yet around me they swim searching

for what lies beyond the window.

I sing them the songs I’ve learned when I was so much younger

of life and time and the paths before my feet

that ache from standing for so very long,

yet I can fly if I choose,

but I need to know just a bit

of what it is they know,

what it is that they feel for being there

so much longer than I,

and still I sing

if perhaps it is only in my mind

like reel to reel moving round and round,

soft voices of truth that speak

of lost souls and fish bowls.

I find comfort in the moments

as the night hangs softly above me

and I have no fear,

I feel if anything a quiet

like a humming chord that calls

as eyes feel so very heavy

and the veil seems to fall

and I want the show to go on,

not ready to call it a day

I call it what it is,

another beautiful memory to tuck away

into its soft blanket of a moon shadow

as it lies quilted beneath a blanket of clouds,

I know it watches me

for I feel its touch as if on my shoulder-

reminding me that this ride makes me smile,

that this day ends on another note of amazement

and I am smiling

not that you can see,

but I hope you can feel it from where you are

reading this,

I am the silly orange fish still leaping,

not yet ready to tuck in,

not yet ready to let the song end…

trying to break over to the other side

where the others swim searching

for the way to see beyond,

and I long to just show them,

to engage in the joy

to tell the way to trade in the ghosts,

raise the spirits of heroes

with a warm breeze,

and in the end, if only to say

how I wish you were here.