Persuasion

Drawn by the pull of possibility

I am at war with resistance

tempted by persuasion and the

dynamic momentum of hands

on taut shoulders

the gravitational press on tangled

knots and willowy limbs that succumb to

a black spell night

your kiss is kindle igniting

the perfect fire

Come dawn I am a periwinkle

at your pillow

tender petals bending to what

is golden.

61 Figurative Paintings By Kazakhstani Artist Andrei Belichenko

art by Andre Belinchenko

Interlude

In this dream I turn to you

light my cigarette from the glowing

tip of yours.

I propose we fly away.

Your dark eyes whip my mind

into arousal and your elegant hand

on my thigh turns me soft inside.

Your breathing is a sigh against

my ear that whispers my hair

and crimson lips so near devours

your resistance.

Against waves of longing and desire

dreams are always what it could

be like.

Suddenly hares chase foxes

and Roebucks hunt hunters and

to shield me from the terror you

hold me within bleak arms.

We are light breathing

sweet molecules into the night

It would be easy now to fly.

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Sweet Bird

After you left I jogged  along the shoreline past the carnation houses  along the jetties where scattered surfers waded hoping to catch the last waves.  A haze veiled the shore and vanished in the rain.  Globules of salt encrusted my eyelids and each breath ripped upward from my belly tearing through my lungs. I sank down on the damp sand behind the old seafood restaurant. Unearthly howls carried out across the waves dissolving into the sea.

I want to believe that the ocean is a froth meringue not a murky depth where in heavy boots you wade past that place where you lose your grip and the rush of saltwater fills your eyes and mind but not the air.

Sea gulls swoop and squawk,  perfect black angles against the sky. I open my book by Tennessee Williams whose writing I abhor but the edge of its cover was leaning out as I passed the bookcase, Sweet Bird of Youth.

*So I close my eyes softly
’til I become that part of the wind
that we all long for sometime”

*Stevie Nicks

The Riches

From the window

as quiet as  as a river I can watch

the moon shiver in the breeze

through the fronds of palm trees.

Hibiscus wave like  children

their mouths move  silently,

hands of garland reach out to

one another.

I am grateful for the sweet

drape of your eyes that like

fluttering wings of birds lift

the shawl of darkness where in

the light  prismatic butterflies

breach their  chrysalis and

vanish in the arching sky.

These are the riches

the golden sunlight passing through us.

denizen of dreams

My dream dies then returns

where you are a denizen who

speaks in languages I’ve yet

to learn

our dream had weight yet

Left no impression in the snow.

That December we

spoke in stutters still the heat

of our tongues turned words

to smoke.

You appear on the back of my eyes

etched into walls where light

and shadow mingle.

Why did you have to be so beautiful?

Now December holds me fast

forever retrieving the dream.

Night Music

Beside the River

Remember that cabin among the trees hidden like rabbits resting in nests of autumn leaves?  Beside the window that looks out on the river there is a writer’s desk  with printer’s ink and fresh flowers kissed by the sun  in  the sill.
Do you recall the sweet days we shared  among the  redwoods that spoke to us?  The memory evokes such nostalgia for that ache, that fierce crushing devotion. I left a heart shaped basket of seeds in the arch of a tree for the birds to scatter, etched our names on its bark.  I will always  remember you and the cabin by the river,  the sultry nights I would dance, those  sheer layers floating  to the herringbone floor.

GoGreen Roulotte | Canopy & Stars

lament

A young birch sways

like a new-born giraffe

its limbs lean out

over wilted grass

and ocher vines bind

a sightless sentry

whose eyes never flinch

but guard eternal.

The silence of winter

stacks on solitary bones

until May winds stir

the crowns of trees

flush with suspended

birds

powerless to fly on.

art by rick nilson

Indulging Conjecture

Pink sand pulls away
from the glistening shore
melting fondant in the
sticky heat
Minute  ecosystems inhabit
tiny  grottoes in  tide pools
of wet sand
Some days I stroll the coast alone
escaping into secret realms of lovers
where there is no logic but
an aching crush I hold to my breast
a passage between a heart and the
mountains where I left you
Allow me to come undone beneath
tender hands on eggshell
the gentle quake of a sigh upon your
unshaven cheek
Let me   drown in the green river of
your eyes where there
is no threat of war hard silence
or the burden of forgiveness

Blood Rose

The night is wet
drops of  rain  glisten
on the slick sidewalks.
In my hurry I dodge
the  dark puddles that
Glisten in the misty glow
of  amber street lamps
There is a trace of rosy
blood where I have bitten
my lip but my eyes  brim
with life and nonsensical love
When we meet we smile
and  kiss silvery lashes
The taste of   blood rose on
shivering lips
For the moment we forget
You  want too much and
 I will take whatever you  give.

” I love you, I love you,
Like a fool, like a soldier
Like a movie star
I love you, I love you
Like a wolf, a king,
Like a man that I am not.
I love you like that”
*English lyrics to” je t’aime ” written by Serge Gainsbourg

Memory Loves You

I wonder about your kiss

does it taste of honeyed oranges

summer has turned to fall and

my hair is the color of autumn leaves

for you I’ve a garland of abalone that

I plucked from the banks of the river

Though I have wrapped you in the

warm breeze of my embrace

I fear we will never kiss

still memory loves you