I wonder about your kiss.
Is it the taste of sweet oranges?
Now Spring hovers at my lips and my
hair is filled with flowers.
For you a crown of fern and twigs
plucked from stones of a river.
Wrapped in the arms of a gentle breeze
I fear we will never kiss
still my memory loves you.
A Little Night Music…
*Sophie Zelman: Memory Loves You
On a thorny stalk
wrapped in leafy veins
heavy with the burden
of viscous dew
for the love of light her
corolla lifts upright
a broad faced still life
anchored to the earth
she tracks the sun across
an unpredictable sky
At dusk she combs the air
with sweetness retreating
at twilight into
pearly pools of the moon.
photography by heart
Then, wisdom grew from fruit
and time was a seedling.
All creatures spoke the same,
hymn of bats, breath of horses.
We were winged and freedom
was etched on the soles of our feet.
Pathways in the earth and sky were
known not charted.
We stepped naked into the blazing sun
bared ourselves to golden rivers and
awesome tidal thunder.
There are times when I can see myself through
your eyes. My pale face so in love,
aching for the caress of a flaxen
haired boy racing through rolling fields.
Suddenly serious your adventurous eyes
sent yearning shivers through me.
I longed for your touch anytime and
kissed you opened mouth without
I adored your mock anger when you
chased after me and the awkward way
you looked down at your hands.
Soon Autumn threw its shadow on
sprouting wheat, smooth and wet.
Now, I listen to the soft whisper
of his breathing through a half
closed door and know there are
different kinds of love,
wild, ruthless, and unafraid.
art by Rob Hefferan
I am a constellation
pasted to a smear of deep sky or
some god spun leaf drifting
a wintry blue pond.
My tongue turns silvery around
my words, do not take them
for sorrow I have named them
Do not forget me.
I still need you to carry me
over the pierce of thorns
My hands are good for nothing but
a plea do not forget me
I am still here my hair a tangle
Autumn leaves have begun to fall.
Late October London is ablaze in hues of orange and purple.
On my bench by the river I daydream that I am an adolescent
reptile escaped from Kafka’s Die Verwanlung, laid back basking in the sun.
The air is layered in heavy cologne but men do not interest me now. I am content to casually observe. To my advantage I know all about them while they know so little about me. Thinking of you against my wishes, dying a little, dead all the sweet hope of dreams never realized, I imagine my earthly body padded, sat beside yours on a grassy knoll
breathing the scent of lilac and the mossy green River Delta.
In the dark I am nude but for a shadow across my torso.
You are so near and to distract my self from this burning desire
I let my thoughts linger among the lines of Roethke’s “In A Dark Time”.
Years pass and by chance we meet at the sad cafe. I sway in your arms like a fragile birch in an autumn tempest. The halo of my eyes glisten recalling how we gave away what we never really had. We hold each other knowing that love has died and we with it.
art by Fabian Perez
You are my obsession
undulating waves of fixation
that can not be restrained.
What I know of you
I have learned through osmosis
the taste of ozone I crave
like breathing air.
Beauty only knows to
be beautiful, send me a
signal through the blackout.
Take my hand and let
me land in your warmth
for I am shivering.
It is always raining here,
I am nothing but precipitation
slipping down your skin.
This is an entire album…you might want to stop it at 4:24.
She is provocative
at times she is insolent.
Her concept of red
is nowhere near
Her house is
the hollow of bones
its burning walls stretched
She has suffered despair
braved the triteness
She is in search
waiting to ignite.
The Strangers gather on the green choking on smoke and the scent of seared flesh. The sun is climbing down to meet the flames. As she smolders he dampens her gown. Just before the wind whips up she is in Elysian fields.