A Chill in the Air

On Tuesday you cried

upon my shoulder,

trusting Jesus to save

your soul.

On Friday you played

the entertainer, making light

of fearful faces in the room.

~

You left us in November

as the cold was setting in.

~

You danced in the face of death,

a can of beer in your hand.

But morning came with raindrops,

in your bed you would remain.

You communicated in silence,

lids weighted with eternal sleep.

~

You left us in November

as the cold was setting in.

~

We ate brownies topped

with ice cream, while the lesbian

hugged the Catholic and God’s

Spirit sweetly smiled.

We laughed through tears

as we remembered; said

our prayers to fill the void.

~

You left us in November

as the cold was setting in.

~

I said goodbye on Thursday,

and left roses in the snow.

Advertisements

The Clichés of Chick Flicks

oil and water
polarized
irritants
under the skin

back to back
stiff shouldered
defiance

anger’s passion
bursts into flame
consuming walls
of separation

melting away
divisions
igniting
love’s fire

sealed with a kiss

always meant
to be

same old story
same old lie

The Contender

Surly scent of testosterone

muscles it way to the fore,

Daring all challengers to

break his hold and throw

him to the floor.

 

Sweet perfume and downcast

eyes, a strand of gentle curl,

the slightest tilting of the head

and iron fists unfurl.

 

Parting lips which breathe

a sigh; his head begins

to swim. An upward glance,

a gentle touch; knees

buckle under him.

 

Strength of gentle femininity,

uncalculated power,

caves the strength of any man,

causes massive bulk to cower.

 

Fragility it may appear to be,

but in the slight of frame

does belie the truth of life –

was from Woman that you came.

 

{Inspired by     somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond  by E. E. Cummings}

Only Skin Deep

dermis cells of clay

marinated in

the drippings of birth

the sweetness of love

the poison of hate

the bitter taste of death

fully soaked in the flavors of life

Published in: on May 26, 2012 at 5:14 pm  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , ,

Dermis Cells of Clay

Girod_St_NOLA_Natnl_Fruit_Brick

Sad eyes of faces from the past set in weathered skin of aging brick

heat of summer bakes urban soot into the dermis cells of clay

harsh cold of winter winds causes huddled forms to shudder

set aside from usefulness, removed from active life

Published in: on May 26, 2012 at 4:58 pm  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , ,

Conversations in the Parlor

Worn red velvet sleeps under
nodding curls of faded floral paper,
while weary hinges sag on cupboard doors.

Faded script of holy heritage
chronicles chapters of former days,
tangled roots of a sprawling family tree.

Tin types hold their secrets in silence,
refusing to refute the lies or tell the tales
of lives lived beyond the photo’s frame.

The quiet never quite slumbers,
in a room where history whispers
and yesterday sings her songs.

Published in: on November 25, 2011 at 7:05 pm  Comments (1)  
Tags: , , , ,

The Lamb Is Slain

Unimaginable Love pours its richest perfume on dusty feet

Innocence drinks of death’s dark poison

Holiness breaks forth in bloom

Patchwork for a Princess

Delicate petals of violet blue, strewn along swirling vines,

a floral pattern on white starched cotton.

 

I see her sitting in the front pew, feet swinging;

patent leather shoes topped with white bobby socks;

freckles playing hop scotch across her nose.

 

Stripes: Shades of blue and purple,

some wide, some narrow,

rivers traveling side by side.

 

Her first sewing project was a simple apron,

She wanted ruffles. I’d said, ‘no’.

Sad little tears trickled down her face

 

Soft shimmer of lavender satin slumps

into graceful folds on the glazed tile floor.

 

An orchid tilted its haughty head,

as her wrist reached to rest on the shoulder of his tuxedo.

Did he know he was holding royalty?

 

Floral pieces frolic with childhood innocence

Amongst the stripes of her growing years.

Satin insets are sprinkled throughout

Like the silken petals of a rose, mature in its bloom.

Tender memories are embroidered within

This patchwork for a princess.

A coverlet of Mother’s Love spreads warmth

Across the bridal bed.

 

 

Published in: on December 12, 2010 at 3:35 pm  Comments (4)  
Tags: , , , , , ,

Christmas Lace

Photos8.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dainty white flakes of winter’s lace
Lace the edge of window’s frame
Framing the serenity of the scene
Seen by children watching in delight

Delighted to press their nose to the glass
Glassy-eyed sleepy heads ready for bed
Bedding down in the land of dreams
Dreams of coming Christmas morn’

Morning comes with a frosty glow
Glowing embers rest within the hearth
Hearth on which the stockings hang

Hanging too is silver tinsel on the tree
Tree brought in through knee-deep snow
Snow of Christmas– flakes of dainty white

Published in: on November 26, 2010 at 9:18 pm  Comments (1)  
Tags: , , , , ,

Inner Habitation

Quiet (but not silent) 

Ongoing discussion (questioning)

Inquisitive (but not demanding)

Listening
Receiving
Responding 

Flesh of human heart,
beating with humanity’s rhythm,
exposed in open air.
%d bloggers like this: