Woman

My hair is graying and wrinkles adorn my eyes and my lips giving away simplistic realities of age. My breasts dance a little lower, my abdomen resists waistlines, arms give way to gravity. My vision struggles under the weight of years of curiousity and the seeking of understanding. I have born pain each moon to the cycles of the same and I have suffered the loss of all it represents with dignity, most days. And while some who silver seek the plumpness of more youthful gazes, I am reminded that wisdom is not always gleefully won. But it is won nonetheless… for

I am woman. 

I bare the scars of my unwillingness to submit to the world in a way only the secret places of the universe understand. I bare the children of a thousand sorrows into the day breaking solace of tomorrow. Love me or not, I am woman.

Beautiful Words

Over lips into the aether

clamoring, clawing, climaxing

birthed intention

breath or suffocation

help or hardship

painfully joyful or painful

universe born

Out of matter onto matter

scribbled, scratched, scrawled

enslaved belief

punctuated or free

towering or insignificant

soothingly chaotic or soothing

souls dying light

So it was

So it is

Power not accepted

so casually wielded

these beautiful words

these beautiful words

these

words.

 

 

World without end

World without end

exists only in soul space

visited and revisited memory

until memory you become

and you live on

in a world without end.

So for me, I shall dive deep and breathe in

the chill and warmth of you

seek the dark shadow of life

the light of blinding pain

a smile stolen in reflection

tears caught in silent refrain

the chaos of laughter and despair

here, my love

my soul

my world

is without end

we are without end.

 

 

 

Storm

A storm is brewing

On the horizon covered with old trees and dying things reaching towards its darkness, hungry to be swept up in raindrops and flashes of desire

Bold clouds twist in and over dreams and stars and galaxies long since dead, lost to memory or god whims

Striations of silver linings left long ago by hopeless dreamers curve in and over the balance of storm and sky as the rumblings of electricity meet air shatters calm nights nearby

it is beautiful.

At this table

At this table, I’ve stared at the blankness of my mind for too long.

The longing of my skin has numbed and the countenances of strangers

have come in place of who should be here.

There is only the sound is of the poem, the piano, and the string whispering to me.

I have taken the deepest part of you and slung it out against pavement.

I have hammered and chiseled until there was nothing left,

until the cancer of my world fled.

I am here.

I am here and there is nothing for it.

but then you speak to me.

My branches

light shimmer

sit simmer

beneath leaves

to see

you

not a face you made

under different stars.

Under branches

heavy with shade

take the best of me

even, if you cannot stay.

for in the end

I am just this

rooted in soil of soul

writing words some will comprehend

others will never try

I digress….

you give me pause

when you glance back…

so please,

sit beneath

my branch and leaf

and if you cannot stay

I will be ok

there is nothing else to be

but

this.

Questions

Do you think the rain is the universe letting our souls cry when we can’t?

Do you wonder if music is our hearts reaching out to connect?

Do you ever listen to the darkness waiting for an answer?

and

Do you ask the wind to carry messages of paper imagination to the places we forget?

Do you think the material we touch is illusionary?

Do you wonder if breath is breathing us?

Do you ever sing words without sound hoping someone will still hear you?

and

Do you…  Do you…

Do you dream of a life you have never lived?

and wonder if it is still possible?

I do…  I definitely do.

 

Beautiful lies

We all tell lies

We all drink bitter truths made by our own hands

And expect the truth of it to age well under our skin

We all expect our flaws to diminish and fade

And expect the cracks and chips to melt forgotten into our eyes

We all tell lies

we all tell beautiful lies

 

 

Estella Porta Lei

Night shade shadow and wine

adrift 

strange voices mingle and fade

The rising tides of a forgotten day

familiar

Until three bright stars of Porta Lei,

joyful lights on a solitary sea,

drifted in and danced for the Queen & her lover – life. 

Awestruck

Holding breath, my soul breathed. 

Finally, I breathed. 

Carmine Principis Neverborne

Incantation to the Neverborn Prince

Come.
I wait, alone
pitch shadows
claw the skin of my soul
feeling nothing
but silence.

Speak.
words once heard
echoing in distant thoughts
of silver and smoke
arcane ghosts
borne of this porcelain shell.

Pray I
to gods long since dead
feeling nothing
but the cold
dust of absent stars
and universes collapsing
all is rot, not, and nothing
all is forgot, barren, and desolate.

Come.
find me
with slowing steps
across hot sands of fading life
begging me to slip
into the depths of feverish longing
and unattended desire.

Come.
I wait, alone.
For your darkness
to light my way
for your sharp kiss
to free need
and set within me
union manifest.

---

Veni.
Et exspecto, solus
picem obumbratio
Unguibus cute animae meae
quod Sententia,
sed silentium.

Loquuntur.
Verba iterum audistis
Cogitationes longe resonante
argenti fumi
arcane manes
hujus putamen fertur fictilem.

Ora me
ut diu sit deos mortuos
quod Sententia,
sed in frigore
pulvere abesse astra
et caducis Mundi
putredo est nec quicquam
omnes enim oblitus es, sterile est, et desolata.

Veni.
invenient me
et tarditas gradibus
per vitam calida arena evacuatur
petitio principii ad lapsum
in profundis ductus est superindui cupientes
et sine cupiditate.

Veni.
Mora est.
Et tenebrae tuae
ita lux mea est
propter acri oscula
liberum ad opus
et posuit me
manifestum est unio.