Your Touch has grown Cold

 

 

 

 

Dearest, here we are back…doing what we used to do.

The promise of calendar days just a prosthetic gesture.

A sub-conscience decision to blur the vision.

Darling, I know something about love.

It isn’t dressed in hazard red.

It isn’t laced in road closed puns.

Yes, dear, I too, know something about love.

There is a dusting on the road…

a Sunday drive to nowhere I am told.

Dearest, you are the predator to this unseasonably cold censorship.

But than again, you’ve always gave me the inclement slip.

your touch 1

Seesaw’s and Mechanical Pony’s

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What happens when we cannot levitate any longer.

For when that disability begins,

it is our past playing hide and seek.

What happens when our memories of seesaw’s and mechanical pony’s come crashing down,

in an around our bare, to all, feet.

Only to be relinquished by a present we will not believe.

≤≥

How soon to the realization that we are all approaching something…

If not,

we are leaving it behind.

You don't fool the animals. Everyone knows, humans can't levitate.
You don’t fool the animals. Everyone knows, humans can’t levitate.

Definition of Levity:

High in spirit.  Lightness of soul

 

How To Store Poetic Thoughts

In an

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 abandoned garage over on River road.

In a left alone box…I keep the sacred thoughts.

In an upholstered chair from 1972, all velour and static, covered in snow.

That is where make-believe takes a seat.

It is where poetry goes.imageedit_3_3337571397

Around about, midday, most days, when the sun quenches the sky.

I take time out to visit a graveyard Sage made of stone and bone.

To amend the playful wrongs…make them…right.

Everyday…a fortunate spirit on an infinite flight.

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Flea Market Snowshoe

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Flea Market snowshoes had been my last hope.  And, I knew well enough, falling up would be easier to achieve than down.

Both being a natural achievement that comes with little sound.

Still!  There had been an organic urge.

The kind set within a pit.  Lit up.  Flamed and encouraged.

All of the elements wound itself…in a curiosity, I would not purge.

I began to walk upon frozen picnic tables, brutish mountain waters.

And, varying unearthly objects of a similar kind.

Nothing more than…raw, risky behavior by design.

 

Shaker Road

shaker road 4

This old house has seen it all before.  The rummaging of angst…The backdoor horrors…

Three crows circling the unkempt gardens, pecking orders for the leftovers.

Descending much like beggars to pennies upon the floor.

This old house…closed for repairs…missing steps in the stairs.

Leaking self depreciating humor…encased in toxic rumor.

This old house…if only you had known sooner.

A foundation built on Christ.

Dining in prayer with the Father and a roll of the dice.

‘Come home.’shaker road 1

I shall tell you now.

I shall tell you now…

what all these years…

you have missed.

“Nail and frail and lying low.  A legacy cast no shadow.  For it must have not just shape and form, but contempt for danger…or, it only lay shallow.”

shaker road 5

“Occasionally, we have to take care of those who once…took care of us.  Often leaving, the participants, stuck between wonder-lust and antiquated mistrust.”