I look for you in the white feather that floats from nowhere, the light footfalls that pause when I pause, the whisper over my shoulder while I write; I read your message in the flash across the night sky and breathe your orange blossom fragrance when the nearest orange blossoms are miles away I feel you without thinking, a touch upon my shoulder, a sigh … Continue reading The Whisper Over My Shoulder
From the prompt: Drunk on Promises They said She was smart She had a beautiful heart Had The world at Her feet Dream big Little darlin’ And when You feel the heat Remember You got a world Of promises In a jar She was drunk On promises And gin When she died Far from home All alone In a car Continue reading Drunk on Promises
In all the nights you danced with me In the spins you laced with fire The music in your swaying hips The rhythm spilling from your eyes Another song, another dance Another tingling-spine romance Your writhing woke my naked lust Your pirouette my sucking breath My fingers strummed your humming lips Your quavering finish I undressed. Continue reading Play Me
My first attempt at Haibun. I often dream of living in a cabin in the woods. Handed the chance to live life over again, I would choose a career as a Forest Ranger, managing forests, assisting people who understand them, teaching those who don’t. Look now through my eyes How vision winds endlessly Look there! Do you see? I always felt I was born two-hundred … Continue reading Wanderlust – Haibun
I wish I could ride a skipping stone far and far across the sea And skip ashore that distant land where flew the dreams I’d dreamed I’d follow my dreams to where she lay dreaming my dreams of her And wake her from deep slumber and gather her into me To tell her how I’d longed for her but feared she were a dream A … Continue reading Skipping Stones
I remember the night I fell for you, our romance and a lifetime of nightlong dreams. The dreams where you whisper so close to me, seeding memories inside my mind. And when I awake I think you are there and reach up to touch you but clutch empty air, then flinch from the gut punch when I know you’re a spirit and gone. I fall … Continue reading Of Love and Moonsweat
I wish there were more moments to recall, the ones that show us naked and afraid. Instead, I recall our time together as projections of idealized portraits, retouched and photo-shopped by minds unable to bear the sharp edges and blunt-force trauma that lovers stumble through along the boulder-strewn road of romance. I don’t want to recall only the good moments but the ungood moments too, but maybe it’s better that … Continue reading Of Love and Memories
Your heart is a sheet of cold, thin ice; Spider cracks zigzag among open veins; Eggshells scatter before my footsteps; On my toes, I step between the cracks and crush the eggshells with my heels. I peel away onionskin layers of you; Vaporous particles explode into my eyes; They stick to fingers and leave them numb; With steel razor taut in my fist, I scrape … Continue reading Mornings, A Halloween Tale
A Pride of Lions; a Gaggle of Geese; A Query of Writers; A Rejection of Agents. I really should be writing 🙂 Continue reading Names for Things
Aida was the one all along, Susanna. Yes, Tomás. She has given me the half of my heart I buried with you. Yes, Tomás. I knew love would come to you again. I grieved so long for you, Susanna. Yes, Tomás. Too long. Aida makes me feel like you and I are together again. I know, Tomás. I can’t bring you back, Susanna, so I … Continue reading Susanna X
Sam and Susanna Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam They say you don’t hear the bullet that kills you. How could anyone know that? Because, they also say, bullets move faster than the speed of sound. By the time you hear the sound of the bullet in your back, you’re dead. What if you’re only wounded; you’d hear that bullet, wouldn’t you? Well, you’re not dead, are … Continue reading Invocation
“We had each other, yes, but even that doesn’t describe what we had. We didn’t choose each other, Frank. We found each other. It’s hard to explain.” Sam leaned forward in his seat. He stared at the floor. His hands were clasped, and he trembled. “There could only be one Susanna, Frank. My life began when I met her.” He fell silent as he collected … Continue reading Dream, Love.
Dreams are bad news. Good dreams or bad dreams, it doesn’t matter. When you awaken you are the same person, only sadder. You wake with less happiness, less hope than before you laid your head on the pillow and closed your eyes and sleep took you to that place you yearn for but hate with hot tears when your eyes open again. The place you … Continue reading Dreams
Writers Envy 