Six Feet

Six Feet

Standing only six feet away
from Melissa  Walters,
forever nineteen.

I feel her paint  this  place
with grace.

In this place she walks
golden hair follows,
wheat waving in the wind.

In this place she touches
trees still standing.
In their shade violets grow
the color  of  Melissa’s  eyes.

Six feet takes me
one hundred and fifty
and two
years to this  place,
that  I  may  listen
to  her  soft  voice
echo  off  green  hills
that  roll  away,
so  far  away.

Six feet away,
nothing but  dust,
all her  radiance
given away.

Six feet away
Melissa Walters lay,
forever nineteen.

Distant Orchards

Distant Orchards

In distant orchards,
Unripe fruit drops
From a tree,
Pulled away gently from branches,
By desirous earth below,

Morning mist subdues,
Eager sunbeams while,

Unripe fruit lays,
Waiting patiently,
For me.

You must be lost

If you have found this blog you must be super-lost inside the internet.  Or, searching for nothing.

Wasted Words

Wasted Words

Pour them out on paper,
They run like,
Wet water colors,
Fading into,
Unrecognizable combinations,
Random mixtures of
Regurgitated thoughts,
It makes me sicker,
To read them,
Twice
Or to think,
I ever
Sent them to you.

My Father's Eyes

My Father’s Eyes

Pale blue so calm to see,
If it feels cool, pale blue,
To touch the sky at dusk,
Sending waves across generations,
Layers that peel away

To find the source so true,

Primary color unwashed,
Raw and real smooth, pale blue,
Eyes, wells of deep wisdom
to a soul of pure pale blue.

 

The Wait

Swelling night air surrounds
me and the oldest tree,
Deep within the dark
greenwoods,
eerie heavy pressure builds,
Watching the White Owl watch,

Ambivalently waiting
on a lofty perch,
in the gray glow of a
reflective half moon.
Wise doesn't really matter
up there.

No contemplation only instinct,
The White Owl blinks
in slow motion,
one time
Gathering visions invisible
to me.

Down here,
thick green-leafy fragrance,
Choking on
a forest smog that
permeates then seals,
my skin with filmy
plant exhales,
The accepting sighs of a
vegetative state.

My heart beats faster with each
silent moment passing.

Crawling hopping creatures
to fearful to move or sing,
anticipating,
the sudden flutter of
unfolding wings, sweeping
white elegant's prelude
to carnage,

And I feel it too.
The crushing weight
of time
expanding inside my
skull and my chest while
waiting
for the White Owl to fly.

rlm 8/17 /02

Only Words

Forced to walk unchosen paths
Footprints scatter in the wind
These thousand steps  ahead will wait
While I turn to watch suns set
Behind shapely seductive hills
Where red infernos glow still
Illuminating amber skies
For me to write upon
Like white chalk on cracked sidewalks
So all the world may read
My name and who I was
And what I rally am
If there is space enough
I'll write down all my sins
With the names of all the people
I have ever wronged
Clearly, each and every one
Then quickly I will scribble
All the thousands of my lies
And your name too, many times
I will write four secret things
Only seven people know
As if they care about
My whole unholy story
Finally, though my hand will tremble
With fear and chill
I'll write the ineffable name
Before dark clouds move in
Then I will lay down in fields
Of tall grass and yellow flowers
Remembering a short poem
I will feel the rain pour down
Cold tears of false absolution
Washing only words away

A Life Saver

Discovered in my pocket,
it was red,
Slightly dissolved...and
a little fuzzy.

I plucked it free
from where it stuck,
next to the forgotten penny
unspent.

Cherry is my favorite.

rlm 8/1/01

Hunting for Blackberries in Sagatuk

Blackberries always grew by the side of the road,

Tourists jumped from Vista Cruisers to ravage those,

We searched deeper in the woods with blue plastic pails,

Closely following Grandma to her secret patch,

Where juicy blackberries waited only for us.

Morning sun burned off the chill an hour ago,

Squatting with stained fingers, tummies fuller than pails,

We battled sticker bushes for bigger berries,

Taking pride in that special find, holing it up high,

'Ladies and Gentlemen the worlds biggest black berry!'

Smiling at our silliness, Grandmother picked on,

Wide brimmed straw hat shading ruminating blue eyes,

She diligently filled two pails to carry home,

At our cottage, in cream with sugar, we ate more,

While Grandmother preserved the rest in Bell Jelly Jars.

rlm 8/2/01

Experience

Slow trigger squeeze
smooth action
never heard the
click-bang. Cold metal
tastes like
fresh blood, I think.
The moment of falling
slowly down
slips my memory now.
I never felt the
bullet ripping
my brain apart or
breaking through the back
of my skull.
Sulfur powder cloud
exploding in my eyes
didn't sting.
There wasn't any
comforting pain.

rlm 10-9-02

Tin Funnel

A tin funnel

need only wait,

capturing raindrops

from wider expanse,

landing little splashes

ping

hollow in the air,

roll down,

whirlpool around

pulled in circles

to a concentrated end.

being little

being little

one time,
when I was little
and way too slow to hide,
she appeared again,
Gertrude’s ghost,
with a furious grin,
I could see.

Hearing her better,
I believed,
“Forever!”
when she screamed,
decibels, not natural,
smoking terror in my eyes,
leaving yellow stains,
forever,

Frayed shoelaces, untied,
blurred
by my tears
tears she needed
to be finished.

Two drinks later
in her arms, I was
trapped
tightly squeezed, I could
hardly breathe, within
love………..
white wine Winston’s and will,

being little being held
like that
was for her

forever failed so
I waited it out

Crushed

Crushed

Slowly dying from the weight
that bends unpredictable curves
in time, I am
molten liquid crushed to the
density of clear reason.
Nothing precious as a blue
diamond’s shine or a final
exhale escapes, and golden sun
light too is pulled in
next to my
barely beating heart.
Deep inside the black most
endless microscopic space
where I am
slowly dying from the wait.

my first blog

This is my first pass at this. I hope to simply use this as a stimulus for staying mindful to thinking. Well - I am tired now.