winter has only just begun

you float in and out
more out than in
I try to hold the wild images
chasing images merge into the walls
that sense of lost intangibles
submerges into depression
shadows of your translucent skin
is imprinted everywhere
I want to walk away
from the interloper
(which is nothing but conjured images)
mortality of my feelings is at its tether
destiny brought us together
destiny will part us
I can still hear you saying,
"it is our pleasure"
but I cannot hold it any longer
I will let it slip through my fingers

"if you so desire, it is your turn to thaw me"

trellis tampers nature

water vibrates with sky
I watch the emerging stream
my mind aligns it with the trees
contrast of the blooms winks at you
I see clear dots of nature 
in the cobalt blue of your eyes

you wink at me, 
I feel the hook of yours 
pull me into you

"the sky, that stream, the trees 
take me away from daily grind, 
and I melt like ice onto you"

words of music glued to me

I am wearing the words of music
notes reverberate in my mind
screen doors watch silently
I throw the wilted flowers
on the earthy ground
someone will come and pick up those
scents of elusive nostalgia will assail him
giving rise to a storm.
that storm which you left behind
along with that felted quilt
I lie on it once in a whilebut it has no warmth
you took that with you
leaving the notes of music
wrapped in my body for eternity

drowning words

image by Manu Pombrol

eyes fixed on the book
I sit in bottled sea
reminiscing about squandered time
green moss follows me
creating a stormy lane in the confined space
if it had been a pewter container
I would have hidden from your prying eyes
but now I am in an intractable alley
elusive in my indignity;
flocks of thoughts chase me,
beating on the walls of my mind

"I am forced to accommodated my naked being, 
don't you dare comment on it."

........

Writing after three weeks. I am just happy to be able to do so. For now.

speckled

buried in the yolk
my marrow soaks in blood.
in the staggering dusk,
I come out of the broken shell.
songs of the clouds
lead me to my mate;
a story of sorrows
untold yet known.

"how do I break free of that addiction to my destiny?
puppy looks on piteously, a treat for it"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It has been three weeks since I posted anything here. My muse seems to have totally disappeared. 

wrench my dreams

hidden beneath the ground
I found the gears
a miracle
I watch myself out there
bending, keying
my hands so busy
what sources I seek
outside the hallways
what drives my gestures
yet I watch
previous forces are unknown now
I set limits to the inherent drama-
while I watch
I can also listen to my singing

"carry my whims, carry my dreams
naked, raw and so honest"

obscured

Image by Sarolta Ban

that hat shadows my eyes
as I look at the poster of my daughter
with overwhelming fullness in my heart
why has she gone underground?
my search has not ended
why is she unaware of my love
my concern?

when I look at her woolly mittens still on the kitchen table,
why did I admonish her for trivial issue?
now in this black and white world
I taste metal, sick metal.
I want everything returned to previous state.
I no longer care that she prefers to be herself
not what I want her to be.

"her coatless state in that picture is my answer"