Drifted dream

We swallowed the moon
in dreams of sickness,
feeling the movement
as it slipped down lower
into the starving pit of emptiness
growing cold in the blue.
Sweat runs like rain on summer days
as the sun brands bodies
with the tattoo of red,
seeking relief we drifted to the edge
and held on tight
to stay above the fray.
Amongst the stars
scattered like sugar drops on black,
sprinkled to and for by the careless hand,
like unexpected words found
cold and sharp, ever bright
as it finds its mark in the darkness,
slipping away unsure,
we all fall down.

Captured by illusion

We move in random theory
standing in the midst of a chaos
of sleepless nights beneath sullen moons
that stare into the abyss of dreams.
I had thought of living and dying,
being in the place of illusion
called upon in the forefront of a hasty life,
rushing through to reach the split
between stages of paths united,
I bristled where I should have found peace
in battering words set apart,
I did not ask for the foretold gift
of carrying the weight she gave
yet called upon the deeper well of light
I rose and moved away untouched.
Who dares to come to the sanctuary unasked,
an ​intruder of the mayhem brought forth,
I slipped into the quiet place
where dreams lay waiting to be found
and touched the clouds in secrecy,
those orange hued beauties rise
as the gentle sun sets down to ripple
the stream of consciousness forgotten.
How is it that we move away
from the comfort of a shallow pool,
dare to dive deep into the darkness
knowing we will surely rise again,
the lingering call of those unseen reach in
and in pulling me forth I wake to find
an escape back into the yesteryear
where the drama cannot find
the path I’ve tread upon,
and the silver light of a dying moon speaks
as I lie awake and wonder
what tomorrow will truly bring.

I know, I know…it’s been awhile, too long really but I have made great strides in utilizing my time in writing a very long story (67,000+ words and counting so far) that I hope to publish in this coming year. If you’re still reading, thank you and will be popping in sporadically as I can until work slows down (Still loving the job and the people it brings into your life) and the story gets finished. Peace and blessings and I’m still breathing, indeed. ❤ K

Moving hue

Spreading thin
added shades to blend within
the spectrum of beauty rises
like a subtle dream flows
through the mind that patiently sits
waiting in repose.
Beauty unearthed
from empty pages
blank with welcome
the hand follows the theme
of images flowing from deep wells,
the mind spins in eagerness
splashing the dream of what will be
across the naked space.
Have I been here?
Where do these colors thrive
with the intensity of scenes remembered
from a long gone dream
brought forth as the hand moved gently
spinning rainbows in water
as beauty and thoughts flow
like rain on parchment.