We are never more rooted
in this big universe than
when our eyes sting and
our heads hang heavy for loss.
When we, a procession of sun
glasses, watch, shifting feet,
as life disappears back into
those thick familiar arms.
Our backs, clothed in black,
savor warmth, unaware that
we are at once joyful and empty,
and crying for ourselves
mirrored in the lowering. How
we know deeply: absence
of something weighs more than
substance, and we fiercely hold on.
I apologize readers for the lack of poetry! I’ve compiled a few from Mays gone by to keep you going while I get myself together and start writing again 🙂
coal and chalk
untitled (good intentions)
agoraphobia (my second try)
black eyeliner morning
did Alice have a choice?
the way this art makes me feel
Filed under poems, poetry
We were born to roam midnight streets
to leave sticky notes of jazz on exuberant thighs
stopped beneath streetlights of dancing rays
gnawing here and there, tipping them back, tossing aside.
We die each hour of impending day but
the streets become a blues pulse, thumping. Again,
hold on to night’s desperation and grind slow
into cobblestones content with the hour still late, late, late.
August poems from the past (2011, 2012) – your Friday poetry round-up!
let’s take a look at one posted some time ago called “Book of Etiquette“
thoughts? has anyone read this book? better yet, read and followed it? hehe.
enjoy the evening! poetry will be back as soon as i dig out of work………….
Filed under poems, poetry, women
Filed under love, poems, poetry