Cliff Girl

In my infinite smallness

looking out over the ocean

my limbs are albino snakes

basking in the sun and the heat

burns the soles of my feet

A treasure of pearls are strewn

like stardust on the shore

and a garland of lilac is tied

to nothing but my hand.

I am the universe lending life

to silent rock as the sun streams

down my throat where there is no voice.

The laughter of children rings

through honeyed coves where lost

lovers await the tide to

tumble them into the light.

Below my feet lies a carpet of

Jacaranda and my empty hands

carry no burden but love.


Song of Seasons

Hold me in  fleeting hours

while we are beautiful and wild

winged creatures of the night

sipping honeysuckle vines

sustained by the sun and rain.

Stay  when summer departs and

butterflies flit at teardrops pooled in

the corner of my eyes.

Lie down with me in winter when

hoar frost coats the rose buds

and  blue birds cease  their song

tiny skeletons of  hollow bone

indifferent to the cold

These lips are   petals

reminders  of lost flowers

If  you do not return

but fly on  to distant gardens

my body will seek shelter

beneath the feathers of

tongueless birds.

Translation by Bernd @ neues vom Hutschi

Halt mich fest in flüchtigen Stunden den schönen und wilden, unser Fleisch ist voll und reif, geflügelte Wesen saugen die Nacht auf, Jelängerjelieber, die von Sonne und den Regen gespeiste. Bleib, wenn der Sommer vergeht und der Garten vom Lächeln nippt, das aus der Iris deiner Augen blitzt. Lieg bei mir im Winter, wenn die Vögel zu singen einhalten, winzige Skelette aus hohlen Knochen, gleichgültig der Kälte gegenüber. Für dich sind meine Lippen Blütenblätter, süße Erinnerungen an verlorene Blumen. Wenn du nicht zurückkehrst sondern weiterfliegs, wird mein Körper Schutz suchen unter den Flügeln zungenloser Vögel. translated by Bernd Huschenreuther

canadianbeauty

art by Steve Hanks

The Letter

I left a message for you in a book.
It is like me to mark provocative phrases,
to shake them out in ponderous verses.
Do not read too much in the fallout,
the notes in the border are for nostalgia’s sake.
I dreamt of you again last night
my adversary
whose aura I barely recall.
My suffering is not in knowing what was real
but what was not.

papers.co-aw53-yanjun-cheng-girl-green-sexy-illustration-art-paint-4-wallpaper-260x460

Majestic Birds

I watched him stride down the boardwalk,  sit down beside me to people watch pale tourists glowing  in the sun. My eyes caught the light that shown through his lips and his elegant hands lifting and dropping like majestic birds.  In the long shadows of dusk  there are questions in need of  soft answers, sunsets slipping down the horizon like hands  over sun warmed thighs.  He is a sweet  breeze through a  tropical garden but the sea is enough for me. It’s salty breeze lifting my chin.

 

Art by Steve Hanks

 

 

 

The Pale Window

The  sun is still low in the sky,  its rays have barely begun to pierce the chill of our pale window.  Don’t go,  we are scarcely out of dreaming.  Feel my heart beat with the lifeline of your palm as  my head rests in the crook of your shoulder.   These   fingertips you kiss one by one will ease the furrow of your brow and  I  will soothe your body with the twining of my own. Let the hours pass  through us tenderly like a shallow river of fledgling reeds.
Steve hanks art