From mid 2015 all written back to back quickly.. to be revisited and properly dated... they definitely need a lot of work .. one is short ideas I planned to expand on ...

Dragon wood behaves accordingly
It looks back at you
and will let you gaze upon
Nobility
And eyes, scales and tails
and breaths of fire
An honorable marriage
not to be taken lightly
With heeded communion
Druidic and spritely


................


Title: A Gentle Reprimand

Dear child how long I have known you?
So many times you have been born to me
I see your milestones skipping across the sea
I see your forgetfulness like furling petals
and your crown of nettles.
I see all of the faith that remains
with withered hands, I sift these crystal grains;
Sculpting presence and sands
I am formed in you, in the blooms
and I release from in chambers
a moan
for all you have shown


........



What ghosts of my own evoke themselves
when I dig up the graves of truth?
I talk of art on mirrors;
As if it hears,
the work begins:
I am splayed and hung on the stars
vertebrae along Cassiopeia,
my flesh a nebula falling away,
my eyes a mind.
I am hunted by jaguars,
then torn to shreds and consumed,
after they toyed with me until I learned to turn toward
and kneel in wait and gratitude
for death / medicine infused rebirth
Great Service is no longer optional, but implied
though I am no slave,
having exhumed my tomb,
and finding it empty.



--------------------------------------------
And another one:




In seeking strength
I find my heart a crux of all fabric
Letting go and reaching out has been, but now
the commitment to fortify and hold together
takes over
and one’s own fortitude becomes
The Drum of the Mother
The Hands of the Father




Mental obstruction. Set in with a gash.
The old cliché of my words turning to ash.
And just as I deny what I realize I always have,
I turn my face asunder
and am unblinded in the flash.
Unblended. Unbled.
How do I construct gold from lead?
I know the imprints by now.
I see the colors of the matrix
and I feel held in purity.
My shaken core inextricably coalesced.
Endless points of contact,
stoic and unstatic.
Given over,
to a stillness that echoes
like a blast

Untitled as of yet

Afresh and effortless

as far as you could guess

like I am

Sifting soft sands along the shallows

but I am

Drifting hopeless through dregs and hollows

Be still, the same sensation through your fingers

falling short of solace as it lingers

And you are my

bohemian driftwood cast but unbroken

anchorite of axioms, solid and oaken

Splintering in flux,

a scintillating crux;

as in, the crashing waves

of your ocean eyes

carving cobalt caves

In my tide pool guise

Unfinished Lists with Missing Bones

Flag stone
Corner stone
Gem stone
         Inlay-ed and engraved
so finely, you know I've
hardly missed a detail
I want to take it all in
like hanging, dried roses
undead and furled
You know I've: hurled
a few stones,
Broken a few...
some at crooks, some at crones
-Watered Roses
-Watered myself,
-The same for some one else,
-Been watered
You know I've never
drawn water from a stone
but I've drawn a stone
from water, it was
dry as a bone

dead and unfurled





...

I really don't mind, mostly

when time slows to a crawl

I just sprawl

out in a hammock

and carve my nook

by rocking in the breeze, ghostly

hummingbirds might approach me

sounding like growling dogs

I may be a feast for flies

(who are unwise)

but full of laughter for the

occasional, off-kilter croaks of frogs

I try to bend time, here

still swaying to the wind chime I hear

bending for each

four leaf clover I find

making these moments

the longest in my mind

gusts of birds

playful and posing

or just one

landed, spindling

on a dangling branch

stirring me breathless

whether they are caw-ing,

red bellied or red-wing,

flirtatious, indigo

blackbird or crow

Part of the, "Keep" group of works, Untitled.

Keep the kindling
catching carved wood
dried after drenching downpour
Radiance soaked up in
the light of this page as I
seek the lines I missed
Swept up in despair
cast up into the flare
wisps and whispers
that we may dare
dawn upon this combusted night
undreamt of but
impending like
all other days and
stoked by these torrential rains
of foreign proportion
causing a distortion of
the accepted and, consequentially
the unexpected
Cool air breathes our heat, we
have borrowed time
changed in for lost sleep
cant we keep
Peace a while

For the April 6th Full Moon (Part of the "Amidst" group of works)

Emulsion amidst
propulsion

Shifting as I am
sifting patterns

This full moon,
(too soon),
coming at me in waves
paves
rivers in my chest
and I divest
my heartache