Clutching to ghosts
Sipping on warmth
tempered by an icy glass.
Hot and cold mixing,
battling on my tongue.
Combating like the thoughts
caught in my troubled mind.
Clutching to ghosts that
grow thinner each day.
Stretched by distance and date
but never quite erased.
12/29/11
Splash II
8 x 10 watercolor
This cold weather has me thinking of the Big Island…long sunsets, beautiful forests, and glistening lava.
Choice, pride, consequences
Pretend not
to note quick
sly invitation.
Hold fast a
dull expression.
Though mouth yawns
slow, wide, and long
mind races swift
speedily weighing
choice, pride,
consequences.
For Three Word Wednesday (http://www.threewordwednesday.com/)
dull, race, yawn
With stone eye and brow
With stone eye and brow
you tell me you want more.
Together we’ve become less.
What you truly wish to express
is a desire to restore
what we’ve never held somehow.
What more to give than all?
What less to withhold than none?
With nothing left to reveal
no more tenderness to steal
it seems a decline has begun,
which no good intention can stall.
So go where you will.
See sights fresh and new
with warm watchful eyes.
And if a reflective mind tries
to pause on the one you once knew,
then know you want met still.
9/17/11
Changes
Being in love with potential
keeps your feet moving—
A new address, a new circle—
through which to glide.
But different room and fresh scenes
give no new spaces to hide.
Old faults and weaknesses
find a way of showing.
And all these alterations
haven’t changed my mind.
Alone with your thoughts
happens any place.
Doubt and insecurity catch you
no matter how long the race.
Thus, it’s only my comfort
that I’ve left far behind.
08/21/11
Seemingly
Seemingly,
with little haste,
temporary perch
transformed into a
steadfast resting place.
Finally,
after so long a pause,
weary limbs unfold.
Stiff as gargoyle wings they,
cautiously break their pose.
Briefly,
before wisdoms clarify,
in a darting glance
over the shoulder
fond memories blur the eye.
Assuredly,
each and every time,
a thing never looks
so good as when
you’re leaving it behind.
6/1/11
More
Abstract water color
Whenever you look at an object, we observe the sum of its layers, its components. Though our eyes only register the surface, our minds understand that there is much more below. How far can we break down solid objects? What is the smallest increment we can perceive? Do you feel atoms?
I found this subject interesting to paint because there is a cosmos of activity under the surface of things that we can’t perceive. The above was inspired by images of pollen under an electron microscope. Its magnification revealed massive caverns and complex textures that I would not normally associate with the tiny spores that affect my allergies.
Between two pensive heads
We frame our conversations
on phrases friendly.
Not too suggestive, not too shallow — safe.
But unsatisfied with exchanges
pleasant in place of passionate,
I long to lose our lazy pace.
Instead, I imagine our heads
inching ever closer in intimate whispers
delivering words I dare not divulge.
Yet, my lips lay still
and my head stays straight.
Thus, our banter continues banal.
And though it bends around the danger,
the peril of potential hovers
in the hot air between two pensive heads.
3/15/11
Mountain air
As the remnants of a laugh
echo in conversation’s gap,
You recall yourself again.
Cast out the impostor beneath your skin.
For so long –– too long ––
you did not recgonize the stranger,
blurry-eyed and red-rimmed,
who measured you with cold eyes
in the steam of a hot shower
and accusing florescent light.
But these last few days,
these thousands of miles,
time carved from a rigid schedule,
have restored the light you’ve been craving––
to your laugh, to your step, to your eyes.
Perhaps running hard to a place
where you could reinvent yourself
was the easiest way to return
to the person you recognize.
Then, with slanted shoulder and smile
he turns his broad frame your way,
breaks your thoughts, and fills the gap with,
“The mountain air must agree with you.”
3/14/11
