Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Sad Ballerinas

Sad ballerinas dance
in burning fields
all night long,
trying to forget
the people they love.

Writhing in ecstatic trance,
they move in perfect sync,
 a gift attained,
from endless nights
of unwanted practice.

All night, all night
they dance…
exposing wounds,
revealing hearts
and provoking
the disembodied souls
who weep at humanness.

Although no ever sees,
they dance, sensually,
all night long
performing to music
of forsaken dreamers.

Monday, February 10, 2014

Meditation By Candlelight

The stillness of darkened shadows

created of candle’s blaze

burn the sun’s core,

on an ordinary wall,

illuminating unspeakable truths,

shattering the shroud,     

attaining the sacred space,

 a sanctuary from the world

confined to ordinary senses.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Signs Of The Season

“When you see these signs occurring
know that summer draws near.”

The sleeping tempest,
rising for its season.

  wind swirling wisps
no beginning and no end,

  Thor hurling his hammer
 thundering a warning, he is near at the gates...

the whole green earth swaying upward
crying-out for the life-giving rains...

it is the time
for earth to roar again!

The Cranes ©

One by one,
baffled mourners
drifted back

toward fragile sanctuaries,
leaving her alone
to gaze the abyss
of freshly churned earth –
where the once beautiful body lay
beginning the slow passage
back to dust.

As she knelt
craving his presence,
Apollo blazed West
meandering to destiny
threatening to leave her alone
in the land of night,
where nocturnal creatures
dwell ominously therein.

But she remained faithful,
still at one with him,
her humanness
causing signs
in the heavenly places,
provoking the servants
to summon the cranes—
to break the veil,
their startling appearance
and poetic laments
letting her know
she was not alone,
giving her strength,
to rise from her knees.

As she drove off
into night –
the cranes followed,,
flying around and around—
until the cemetery’s gates
clung shut behind;
but now, she knew
he would be with her,
all the days of her life.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

She Is Autumn

She is autumn
christening pure days,
Arctic air arriving
shimmering in vanilla, amber and maize

a chaste breeze awakens the senses
in sandalwood, roses and haze
after all is past
autumn is what remains.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

The Last Train To The Hamptons

I was in-love in the summer
and somewhere past midnight
found myself wandering down Alhambra,
a sultry side-street
in the beautiful sleeping city

lost in the stillness,
euphoric in the discordant hum
of summer’s seasonal creatures,
the sensual cadence calling
from steamy garden shadows,

I passed lonely mansions wondering 

if intoxicated stragglers
lounged alone in the darkness
dreaming of summer love
grieved they'd missed
the last train to The Hamptons.