lonely pilgrim dreams

the lonely pilgrim fell asleep on his pillow of dreams,
as muse sang songs that floated on air.
he struggled to wake from his trance like state,
as he found himself deep in the quagmire of disarray,
wondering how he had found himself wandering
in green valleys, and who had led him there.

he wondered, too, if dreams are real, and what he
would see at morning's light.

muse sang on, into the night, singing all good things
into his heart, breathing love into his pillow, playing for
light, playing the tune of her heart strings that night.

she was not sure what song she sang, but
wanted to sing, and sing some more.


--bruised orange

adrift

how can you receive an ocean, and hold it in your heart?
won't it leak, won't it spill, won't it explode upon your shore?

how do you feel an ocean's tide, and keep it locked away inside?
won't it pull? won't it drown? won't it surge you in its depths?

how can you hear an ocean's call, and not within its depths fall?
won't it wash? won't it sink? won't it tumble you forever more?

this boat just floats and floats in fathomless waters
no rudder, no rudder, no bay here in which to drop anchor.



--bruised orange

fall arrives

ripples flow out, flow out some more
when tiny pebbles break the still waters

small disturbance upon tranquil pools
pushes sailing leaf boat to shore

where breezes tumble her fallen form
far away from crystal pools
she'd had no business sailing on

(she hadn't had a rudder by which to steer)



--bruised orange

only fueled

she had thought to extinguish.

but she could not,
and would not be able to,
as the fire burned curtains
and consumed the air she breathed
and flames licked the blistered panels
of her sweating walls, where she had
hidden the secret letters of her youth


--bruised orange

universal

tides pull, stars burn
comets chase their tails

waves that break upon the shore
return to ocean ever more

sun shines down on shadow land
cleaves the clouds, the darkened band

moon rises, star falls
comet streaks the sky

sun shines down on shadow land
burns the clouds, tips the hand


--bruised orange

who hides the sun?

how did shadow walk into this light filled home?
did i forget to bolt the door? or leave a window ajar?
did he steal down my chimney while i slumbered in my bed?
while dreaming words of love and joy?

he sits at my table now, demanding another cup of grief from me.
how can i tell him he's emptied my cupboards? and what
will he do when i ask him to leave without quenching his thirst?

and why, oh why, do i want to offer him anything, anything at all,
if he would only stay?


--bruised orange

i pull the bones from my throat

a toast to the ex, in the end, i drink to myself


you set the table just so,
with candle light's warm glow
musical notes drifting on air
with the wine you serve, i'm there

but then the meal arrives, with bones for my throat
bitter poison, leg of goat
i notice the wine has lost its clarity
now you laugh at the perceived disparity
you rise to leave, say you've lost your appetite
i've ruined your supper, your planned delight

you, who so carefully arrange brutality
crafting my demise with skillful hand
i won't be served by you again

i finally found my own clarity
i'm sweetest champagne, well chilled
now i realize it was your own disparity
once your evil brew was distilled

never mine, never mine
i'm sweetest wine, sweetest wine

tumbled again

falling down into the pit,
tumble my stones into the
gravely grave, where my heart
pours a sieve, where rain
falls down in sheets,
enshrouds my truth.

my seething, growling, gnawing
tiger caged in her corner,
spits into my dark night;
she's ready to pounce.

i thought i'd tamed the beast,
but she was only waiting in shadows.

now backed into her corner, she strikes
her razors across my face.

i bleed onto packed dirt floor.

tiger's eyes glow green.


--bruised orange

sail on, sail on, into the deep

this is the ship that hears the horn blow
and seeks the brightest beacon of light

her port of call, that sheltered harbor
on stormy dark and windswept night

my ship will break upon the rocks
with no steady compass in hand

ride the mystic waves with me,
we will sound the depths of the ocean

let us plunge our line into the fathomless love
in that oneness, find our measure

then sail on, sail on, into the deep


--bruised orange

welcome song for the weary traveler

with unsure steps, tread the ground
gaze out with open eyes
cast away all fear and doubt
let the music sing your soul

this river will wash your bedrock
polish the rough stones of your longing
flow away your worried mind,

when this love-seed settles in the soil of your heart
your rose will bloom, in fertile field
where nightingale warbles its melodious tune

lay down your head upon alfalfa pillow
let the music take you high
where daffodil dreams and mystic streams
sing you sweetest lullaby

now close your eyes and feel the pull
this song the lodestone to your heart
drawing out your own sweet tune

hear gentle clouds that roll on by
smell sweet the scented breeze in sky

feel the love,

let go,

now fly


--bruised orange

walk on, lonely pilgrim

would that you would go a step further,
fight a round harder, walk a mile longer,
perhaps you will see the clear waters,
the soaring vistas, the spring flowers

sandstorms blind your eyes and sting your throat,
your music lost into the wind

walk on, lonely pilgrim, walk on and meet me
in the green valley

its just 'round the bend

i've a song to play for you


--bruised orange

tell me more

i would like to speak to you in prose, not verse.
for what in verse most carefully metered
cannot with ease portray what my heart longs
to spill. and while your words most eloquently
express the beauty of your soul filled vision,
sometimes, rough lines spell out best
the truth of who we are

ethereal music has its place in the stars,
that castle of dreams, of visions afar
but hands that dig in dirt, mold the clay
of our connection, binding moon and star

tell me more of who you are...


--bruised orange

return

the tide of my longing
pulls me from the shore,
i plunge back into your ocean once more
waves will never break me
only wash me back into your depths

he is moon, but you are sun
he is shore, but you are the ocean of my remembrance,

ever flowing through me, ever returning me to your source


--bruised orange

one taste more

night is the time you come to me,
whispering me in the dark

your feather breath sings
moonlight and stardust,
sacred places of my youth

i breathe you in,
exhale you onto the page

your ink stains my fingers
as i write you into my heart

intoxicating wine upon my lips you are!
one taste, just one taste more


--bruised orange

let it spill

when i first lifted my glass
and nosed your polished aroma
i hadn't realized then, how your
perfumed bouquet would intoxicate me

you, accessible one, with all your
heady complexities, deserve to
be brought out from the cellar

and no mere tasting will be enough
bright and clean you would be
upon my tongue

held midpalate, i'd swirl you about,
swallow you down, your finish
lingering, demanding of me
another sip

to me, you are at peak flavor
no mere tasting would ever be enough.
pour me a glass, i will drain you
to the last. pour me another
until my cup runs over

stain the tablecloth,
i don't care about that
let it spill.


--bruised orange

muse says...

slipping from your mouth
dripping forth from pen
poem speaks its own
language of within

name me muse,
imagination,
inspiration,
soul-speak

your truth is drawn
forth from my lips
kiss me quick
or kiss me long
i'll have you sing
your mirrored song

i'll trace my pen
'round your most
sensitive places,
drive you to madness
with my exquisite phrases

or strike at your eyes
with this raging dagger
let the ink pour forth,
your wounded stagger

kiss me quick,
or kiss me long,
choice is yours
now sing your song


--bruised orange

bloomin' words

if i could
copy and paste
you into
my book
i would.

i'd lock you
into the pages
between my
covers

bookmarking
your sweetest
lines with my
red silk ribbon

i'd open you up
and read your
darkest secrets
in still of night
by candlelight

and under full
moon's glow, drip
my honey'd words
upon your tender
heart.

oh to copy
and paste
you into
my book

where our love
affair could bloom
in words.

the only place it ever could.


--bruised orange

present me present

return to me, that gentle place
settled in contentment of the
who that i am and the
all that is

trace me back
to the eternity of now
spiral me forward
to the forever of
here


--bruised orange

blow, winds, blow

he wanders in and out of dreamscapes
seeking refuge from the nameless ache,
the burn of a thousand cloudless days

the tumbleweed of his joy blows in the dunes of neglect
vaguely rooted in the sands of discontent


blow, winds, blow
shift the sand beneath his feet
tumble him to the river of rejoice
where his seeds can bury deep
in the fertile soil of complete


--bruised orange

desert of longing

this desert of longing
digs for distraction
in sand dunes
shifting endlessly
in the winds of change

rain on me now
settle my form

i'll grow you earth flowers,
a boundless array
intoxicate all your senses,
wake you up


--bruised orange

fine-tune my enthusiasm

another 'adopted metaphor' from a poetry board, this one, 'fine-tune enthusiasm'. now i'm an out of tune piano. lol



bring your hammer and mutes.
temper my just intervals and
i'll beat a sweet harmonic series.

stretch my octaves,
correct my dissonance,
fine-tune my enthusiasm,

i'll play you some smooth sounds


--bruised orange

unveil sanity

this is just a little trifle, a challenge from a poetry board i belong to. this, my 'adopted metaphor', unveil sanity. it was a fun exercise, and i may add more to it later



no curtain call for you.

you tried to
unveil sanity
but the show flopped.

nobody likes a bad actor.


--bruised orange

sleeper

oh, it must be Monday again


as night marched into day
she saw that light cast through her window
yet being too much enamored by the darkness
she pulled the covers back over her head
and went back to her sleep


--bruised orange

hop, skip, and jump away

laughter skips into view,
turns a corner up ahead.

i run to catch up,
stumbling over lemon drops
she's spilled along the way

coordination's never been my gift.

i'll just follow the trail,
her citrus tangy scent
flares my nostrils

i forget myself,
and skip.


--bruised orange

break out

see the wooden statues,
how they walk about,
locked inside, their
heartwood screams
to be cut free of doubt

watch the alabaster statues,
dance around the room,
their translucent skin
masks the beauty of
roses' passionate bloom

break the marble statues,
real beauty's trapped inside,
chisel away, bright flames ablaze,
with light too bright to hide


melt your bronzened statue,
show me your true form,
though lovely, copper and tin
can never compare
to gold that shines within


--bruised orange

towards a more authentic self

real, real, who's got some real?
lay it out in front of me now
spill the beans, spill your guts

goody goody may look pretty
struggle struggle is oh, so gritty
true to me, true to you
who do you think is fooling whom?

build up walls, lock yourself away
hide from the world, cover your shame
you'll only have yourself to blame

let it out, scream some more
find yourself, and show the world

let it out, scream some more
show yourself, and inspire the world


--bruised orange

crack me open, spill me out

i embrace the darkness within me
and find there is light enough to bear
no longer need to run in fear
or pretend i do not hear
the call, for it is strong,
and will commence the
silent scream within my
brain when i stubbornly
turn a deaf ear to its song

i'll find it oozes through
the pores of my skin
attacks my kith and kin
it only wants to be loved, too

i find a full on frontal address
relieves it best, no mere
handshake will do. darkness
wants to feel the love, too

SO:

darkness, my old friend
what will you share with
me today? what juicy
news to me impart
what breaking waves
upon my heart?

sit a while, have some tea
i know you have something
good for me. i know you were here
just last week, but i can't get
enough of your sweet embrace

so crack me open, spill me out
leave me breathless on the floor
in the morning, you'll leave my side
and me? i will have enjoyed the ride

my thoughts impressed by all you share
and i, the better for your care
morning light upon me breaks
you always leave me, but ever return
bearing gifts, so thoughtfully prepared

you always leave me,
awakened, and aware


--bruised orange

poets possess, possessed, possession, possessor

four little poems born together today, one after the next.



poets possess

dreamy romantic hearts
with notions enough to
stitch a quilt of love
to blanket the world


poets possessed

of cracking wit
and sharp tongue,
by darksome reveal,
spur us on towards
a bold new frontier


poet's possession

immeasurable wealth,
freely distributed.
the mighty pen sways
hearts and minds.

treasures inherent,
readily bestowed.


poet's possessor

the world own's her heart
and she, the world's
through words, none new
arranged fresh for you:

delight and beguile,
awaken again the senses,
as morning dew strewn
on Kentucky bluegrass

or creep up behind
and steal a kiss,
bringing pure bliss
to dry, parched lips

or rush and attack,
leave you flat on your back,
wind knocked from your chest,
in a state of unrest

words own her heart,
they always have,
right from the start

whether
white, black, grey, multihued
they're all so so good for you


--bruised orange

funambulation

eh, its all a balancing act...
funambulation-rope dancing
great music by Maria Mena



funambulation

there is a clear, fine line
cuts a path through the air

each step, once gingerly tread
with my balancing pole,
my highwire act of tight control

its a slackwire i walk this time
i'll need my dancing feet
no tension between the two poles
i'm my own pivot point

no time to practice,
i'll make it up as i go along

i'll be over the edge soon
pretty sure there's no
safety net below

but what the heck
it'll make for a great show


--bruised orange

transference

i wouldn't worry too much about it
my heart is a fickle home these days
filled to the point of explosion
with longing unfulfilled

i'll get a handle on it, i swear
what i feel is just a reflection
a mirage in the desert of my soul
no need to worry about me

my cracked vessel oozes out
some of its contents have
puddled at your feet
please don't worry about me

my life is just too much abstraction
with no concrete proof of any good kind
only the remains of my yesterday
where inky clouds befouled my water

my heart's just looking to make a statement
to prove to myself i'm capable
of something a bit more worthy
than what i've displayed before


--bruised orange

vested interest

my heart's statement
longs to be in the black
it's been showing red too long
i've gotta find a better accountant

you can't balance my books, i know
although i appreciate the loan
you gave me in my time of need

i've been spending way too much
on picture shows with bad endings

its time i transfer some funds
into a savings account
and begin planning
for my future

i'll play the market
once i find stock
that'll yield high returns
on my investment


--bruised orange

this ill-fated show

it'll get bad reviews, we should scrap the project before it breaks the budget


we sit and talk
art and beauty, love and fear
my heart cracking open
and you, rushing in

we sit and talk
play at the deadly game
ignore the consequences
shun the inconsistencies
the words, words, words
they swirl
and we slip, we slip, we slip

--its a real cliffhanger

hearts on sleeves
music weaves
stories come to light

secrets, oozing out between
the well crafted lines of
our carefully scripted plot

we sit and talk circles around
the herds of white elephants
that come to watch the show
mocking us, they laugh
as we tiptoe through
fields of daffodils
under dark skies
with rainbows

scene change now

in dark of night
i squeeze out hope
from my heart
god damned hope
twists up and knifes
me in the side, leaves
me bleeding on the floor

and you, fool you are
rush to my aid

if you're saving me,
who's saving you?

you with your secret
decoder ring from your
box of caramel corn
cracking my heart
you peel my layers

your questions run deep
but your feet will run faster
and i'll fall, i'll fall, i'll fall

gravity's a real drag
i've felt it's pull before

me with my third eye
see the pan and play
this show will end
leaving us all sitting
in our seats wanting
another thirty minutes,
a tidier ending
this ain't Disney

we'll feel like we've been
ripped, ripped, ripped

no refunds here,
go file your complaint
with the man upstairs

the audience stands,
turns to go.

white elephants know there's
no silver lining, no pot of gold
they threw popcorn at the screen
but you didn't notice

i always hated white elephants
i thought you did too
who invited them to the show?

we step outside
no curtain call
no applause

this hail falls down
on a sunny blue day
afraid to touch you, but

i want to catch you in my mouth

would you please
just go away
before i end up with lumps
on my head, in my throat

my eyes blinded by the sun,
the hail, this ill fated show


--bruised orange