Kindness and Dignity

For what it is worth

I see you when I climb the stairs a midst stark twilight.

Your dauntless task given unto an endless flight.

A vision of tolerance and safety.

Kindness and dignity.

A shimmering arc focused on what is here.

A dark side to what is not there.

Can you fix me?

Whiling the while…

cradling ‘of unknown origins’…above the street?

Rest assured I’ve cleaned hell.

It left me in a

‘poor me’ spell.

Days, months, years…

stuck in the glare.

Rummaging in the attic…

drunk and blind…

looking for a purpose, a meaning, maybe a sign.

Now, feral moon, as time becomes,

a whimper and a whim…

As life goes bump in the night…

as it often will.

The dark shadows, the bolted attic door, the childish folk lore’s…

beg the question, once more.

What is IT out there?

One step down from the top of the stair?

IT used to be the monsters sight unseen.

Sometimes, I know, as I do now,

IT is only in a dream.

Local Girls

Forested farmland
Field of greens
A vision that sought me out while on a comforter of limes
And, with a poking elbow attack, I could tell that I had bothered the local girl
It would appear that my smokey indulgence went into overdrive.
Had not the ceiling opened up and the walls curled.
I would have considered the world flat…not circular.

I have had daffodil dust moments before.
But when I discuss this in plain sight…
This foreplay bothersome for local girls
and
I am banished from sight.

Flesh of Word

No light or dark.

In the field of nothingness…only dragons un-slayed.

Plunging limbs of thought…tell me,

‘stoned walls’ corral without release…temptress choreographs with open deceit.

Amidst slender gestures that wrap my decadence around her fingers

…release, release, release.

imageedit_14_7394456651

Only a bosom for my crib.

Delicate as a bed of silence…movement, no sound.

Only flesh of word allow the urge to leave.

In the light or dark.

There are sensual curves in the open crevices.

Captured, they and I, continue on with our battle…erotic…forbidden attacks.

Light early morn.

Dark late dawn.

With walls crumbling and bearings not straight.

Never is conflict finished.

Only flesh of word allow the urge to leave.

 

A Door Within…A Door

As vast as it seemed, it had only been a dream.

Murky and vague, I awoke and had become…

everything my mother had hoped I would be.

The joy in her eyes had been a prosthetic.

The sins she had always shared…

were no longer kinetic.abandone 1

Slowly fading from sight…

Her wish.

Our dream.

Freedom from our bondage, once again, turned pathetic.

Before this delusion slithered from my specter.

I caressed sleep from my eyes.

And, awareness back to a falling figure, fetal on the floor.

With less came more.

Disappointment lay beside me…

as it had, a thousand times before.

My awakening had been just a dream within a dream.

A door within a door.

 

 

 

Coexisting in My Dreams

Running rampart.

Other parts of wishing to be free.

Just another part of me.

So easy to judge control when the lack of it…

is often sold.

Basic greetings at the door.

Conjuring stories never spoken.

Never told.

 

I quicken my pace.

While witnessing this other ‘me’.

However, even that has caused undo injury.

Thus, with a providing climate, I relocate my recluse…everyday.

But under the debris and dormant, she is in-between everything.

That is when the holiest of our survival…

must coexists in my dreams.