the lunar eclipse
your swirling abysmal depths
awakened dreaming
rubbing your face with your hand
feeling the stardust falling
The Sea Calls
Unconstrained freedom
the promise of my Springtime
yet Winter lingers
The pen moves to my music
I hear the sea calling me
The Roses
Roses in bloom
once they grew to find the sun on their own
Unique colours
Gardeners competed to find order in flower beds
the theme was align
Once they grew in rows of conformity, humans won
Yet the roses don’t seek the magic of the sun so well
their colours faded
What made them unique was taken by conformity
Free to Write Again
And, now I am free of it, my cage;
the parchment paper fell away,
and the solidified ink blocks,
I slowly shaved them away
until the ink flowed again.
Obscurity
Within the shape of my flesh,
I am a loud and angry idealist.
On the surface of who you see,
I am quiet, old, and compliant.
The walls of plaster and wood,
they hold me to the keyboard.
Defiant, yet clouded by society,
I lament the capital hypocrisy.
The fear within the rented walls,
it holds me back from the truth.
Compliant due to poverty fear,
I censure my words about
until I am in a cage made for me,
quietly moving towards obscurity.
Quiet Music
A Sunday afternoon longing and a yearning for those fragments of what I thought I was before I took this path.
Rain droplets splatter the glass of my window, so I raise the blind to see the wind moving the unkempt grass, and I watch the droplets run down the glass.
I gather all of the friends from my dreams I have not yet met, and I hold them close to me like the ghosts of the loved ones who died.
Rain droplets continue to splatter the glass of my window, and the wind and the rain create music I often long to hear.
I revel in the quickening rain which showers the glass of my window, the increasing wind, and I wish for more of this quiet music.
Fairy Garden
A fluttering of wings,
they dance in the air
to a song only they sing.
Spring blossoms in full bloom
flowers scent the way
sweet nectar of love flows.
A fairy does a dance
with a bird or two
as spiders spin webs.
Something sweet does come
on the afternoon breeze
as the garden comes alive.
The Scents of Spring
Tropical fruits balance in a crystal bowl,
and an African Violet blooms on the window sill.
Many tightly squeezed fruits create punch,
and a cherry tart cools on the kitchen bench.
You wait for the heat to subside
as the scents of Spring move you.
You wait for the one you love
to arrive and bring more flowers.
A clash of civilisations decorates your home,
as the fault lines give you a feeling of warmth.
Art Deco glassware sits on a lavish tablecloth,
with flowers blossoming, blooming, and lingering.
A Monet Moment
Sunlight dances on the butterfly leaves,
as the colours of the autumn day show.
Sunday picnics and Monet moments in love,
disappeared in the grey of the era of March.
Sunlight fades into the abstract twilight,
as we share our last wine bottle so slowly.
Spring Dance
Bursting flowers
Moving in waves across the field
Colours of blossoming spring dance
Sunshine brighter than the light
C & K 