Tag Archives: poems



Missing you out in this field of separation

All the things so jumbled.

Both of us boasting our indifference.

The clutter of emotion and memory.


Your deafening arms across my roadmap skin.

Oh, the fires you light there, and speak guttural languages to my bones

How can I survive the heat, kilns igniting my heart?

Every faith, sewn upon your hands with determined fingertips


When every movement is the sound of your voice

When every thought is borne of your happiness

When the caress of your skin is branded upon my body

When the taste of your tongue is a maze upon mine


Oh memory, oh the sweet longings of love

The hope that broke me in two, my soul a victim

How starved you must have been to feed upon my tender heart

What a hurricane I have become



Given Dreams

Given Dreams

Preparing everyday for you to go

Hopes taking shape of a lie

While I fall deeper into your ocean

With the passing of suns


Summer drew up like water into a sponge

Fall settling like dust again. While the

Whisper of your name withered upon

My crimson lips, my teeth biting down on its form


In my mind, you must see me, miss me

In my mind, I was a golden treasure you hoarded

I was a blaze you need to warm your bones

Let the forest burn, your decision worthy


But instead, I felt forgotten. Like the fog

Lost and thick among the branches of ghosts

Eerie and quiet and strange with music

Messages too old for you to understand


And yet, I sent my dreams to you, oh fox

Wanderer of histories, rogue of tomorrow

The dreams I kept in a box in my cage heart

The skin of my soul


I gave to you my red cloak, a desert wide

A sail boat washed ashore long ago

The fierce deafening wind, and my strange eyes

My perseverance.


I gave to you my golden wolf eyes,

My clever mouth and sharp ears

The stillness of the forest, the bugle of the hunt

My wildness


I gave to you my long dark hair, waves upon my back

My white dress among the mazes of trunks,

Just out of your reach, out of sight. A house in the wood

My innocence


But I woke to find my bed cold and large

When suddenly you were a stranger that held all

My secrets. And having given you my dreams

I sat empty and alone, wishing for tomorrow.


What more is there for my arms now, but time

Once filled with your smile and broad back

Now just the ticking of a clock too loud

Every moment turned from waiting for you, to hiding.


I’m supposed to ignore the ache of agony in my chest

I’m supposed to let go, since I knew it would come

Since I am a girl practiced at being grown up. No longer

Peter Pan, just wishing for the hook to slip between ribs.


And so the day goes on, it does not miss you as I

It knows nothing of the emptiness

What shall I fill with it? The quiet seconds of pretend?

What will fit in that space of sorrow for lost things?


You were never mine, so what rite do I have?

But losing you broke my heart, while I held

My breath, because the dead do not cry.

And I was just a hollow shell, full of the brine.


The absence of you became the pull before

The tidal wave, that crashed down on my heart.

But the pain was dull, for I had known that you

Were nothing but a distraction for my wandering eye.


I’ll get over you, perhaps tomorrow. But until then

I am stuck here in this longing. A longing so deep

For something I don’t understand. Why the wind

Keeps blowing people away but not me




What of tomorrow? What of today?

When my emotions are things I wished away?

And the terrible truth of my existence

Was something I created with persistence?














Black coal eyes,  mimicking the night.

Lights within,  drawing me close.


Deeper.  Deeper.


Vines of your fingers, deftly entwining in mine.

Spindles to the web of my capture.


You stare, hypnotizing me and casting your spell.

Words like burglars out into the dawn, stealing my sanity.


How i fear the light that takes me from you.

Dissipating in the beams like fog that clouds your mind.


Your rich skin,  a silk coating,  slippery and soft.

The waters of your ocean spring up between us.


Droplets on the flesh,  the rush of a breath in and out.

Harsh rasping and crying,  like waves against the beach,  the dock,  the cliffs.


The expanse of your back.

How etched is your skin, riddled with promises of tomorrow.


Furrows of pain and fear,  healed over in survival.

Little lines of adrenaline, you breathe sharply into your lungs.


Oh, how sleep engulfs me.  Your sweet bed of fern, a haven.

Oh,  how i have become a creature of the night once more.


The knives of your hips carving lullabies into my skin.

Of passion and beauty and gold.


The branches of your ribs,  a place to hold my hummingbird heart.

An anchor for my hungry claws and my warm mouth.


The steady motion of the waves,  pulling me in and out.

The shore is but a distant memory.  A whisper of safety reborn in the dark.


Your lips open me up, curling around my desires like slither and shade.

They are wild and wry and wet.   Like cliff stones.


Those hours are ours,  darkness eating shadow, birthing the howling hour.

The carpet rough against my baying flesh.


The midnight sky,  black like your eyes,  my legs.  Palate of forever.

Absolving my heart and eating worries; forgetting the aimless woods.


A labyrinth of your mind,  i wander into it.

Caressing the walls with my fingertips,  begging for them to whisper their truth.


You taught that Morse code to my heartbeat.

The one that the stars keep their secrets within. The secrets they hold for you.


Winking. Ghosting.


What a strange web this is, made of heartstrings.

I hold my breath, waiting for the exhale of rumor.

Trunks and Thunder

Trunks and Thunder

Horses in your pocket.

Ferrari in your mouth.

You go into the night looking for yourself.

You slide among their legs, like trees.

You cling to them.


You hold yourself steady among their branches.

They shade your vision of what’s real.

Of who you are.


But you love the shade, hidden in shadow from harsh reality.

You adore the winds of change.

But underneath, you are quite invoked with envy.

Envy for their bravery, those trees cemented by roots; connection.

You fear coming out from their shelter, fear the open plains

So wide and sweeping.


Who will you be without their structure to hold you?

Who are you without their leaves to cover you up?


You are the night, roaming like a drape of ecstasy and adventure

Leaving in a sudden gasp, disappearing with the dawn.

You are the pain of the axe to their supple trunks

Bleeding; buried beneath the autumnal skies.

You are the fox, hiding in their hollows and their warm damp earth

Hiding from the winter storms that seek to strengthen you.


Where do you go when you’re not among them?

How far do you travel to feign your indifference?


I watch their trunks bend and swing

I watch your words like wind that shakes them.

Like thunder from your horses hooves,

Crashing and bashing their minds among them.


How could you not feel sorrow or sympathy

For the keepers of your shelter?

How could you not, but perhaps it’s true.

That their sorrows are just more trunks to sift through.




The rumble from that distant cavern,

Black eyes, and streaking night

I fell upon the wolfen sword

Sharp and gleaming bright.


Hear the drumbeats calling war

Hear the harken shield

The clash and growl of steely tools

And the ravens on the field.


The sky run dark and streaked with blood

Of fallen men at arms

The fire blazing high with smoke

A call of macabre alarm


I watch it pass in bleak surrender,

A witness to my fate

To watch as they fall down in blood

And Valkyries elate.


The pound of feet breaking down the beach

Swallowed by the tide

The crumbling walls of pride and valor

Falling before my eyes.


The passion within the eyes of those

That make the gleaming cut

Upon the heads of other men,

Like animals in rut.


They thrash within their armor

They howl within their skin

They rush with muscles taut and learned

They beat you from within.


All along these weathered soldiers

Seek to strike fear in our hearts

They are the symbols of our struggles

When love does pass or start.


Love may be a battlefield,

But upon it we must rattle

With shields and fates and broken swords

That ring out like a gavel.


Perhaps love is a baying hound,

A searcher at the call

But instead of bloody fields,

With grace it traps us all.


So rush out to the battle grounds

And try to hold no fear

There is no triumph in ancient wars

But your glory could be near.


And if you perish upon its fields

Fear not the mourning dawn

You’ll be taken up to higher places

Until the pain is gone.


Pain replaced by intoxication.

Distrust for divine.

Anger for celebration.

Part of the grand design.


Too Many Times

Too Many Times

I held the wolf by the ears, and sat upon his back

His teeth nearly a breath from my soft flesh

I knew I must let go, how strange, as his fangs broke into me

A hollow hole opened up filled only with the tears of skin

Howling cavern

Careening into the brisk morning, tumbling out like smoke

Too many times a broken voice.


They say it’s not the fall that kills you

They say, filled with humorous smirk

The sudden stop grew as I passed heaven by,

Living there only a second

Fallen angel

Careening gracelessly into the dark, black earth of night

Too many times a broken wing.


Life rests on the head of a pin, tumbling forward

Falling back. Into the cold hand of an earthen bed

A cradle from beginning to end, and in between

Into a sweet sleep we fall, dozing in a promise

Better tomorrow

Careening into a dream, light and golden in the face of surrender

Too many times an awakening.


How did I think to hold the wolf’s ear? To seek to make him my pet? When all the wild things seek to do, is eat without regret.

So I sit here, in bleak surrender, begging like a dog. For things unsettled and magic un bridled, and naps within the sun.

He bit my hand, and savaged my heart, all the while I stroked his head. And told him sweet wishes and hopes, he ate them all instead.

And while I wept , that berserker, runs and rages on. A river wild and quite untame, the eater of hearts forgone.

Guilt is heavy on the soul, a weight to struggle under. It spurns and brands and leaves us naked, a wisp of foolish blunder.

Upon our choice, we risk our lives, to the wolf that’s at the door. We let him in, to make us wounds, blood leaking onto the floor.


Beware the wolf, beware his wiles, beware is warm soft skin. He draws you in and makes you his, and eats you from within.


Just Friends

Just Friends

Strangeness abounds in this scene of chess.
The flight of birds that beat upon the heart.

The wonder of the spark
Love is born.

And yet, in flight, a one-winged thing.
Flutters just above a watery grave.

The hunger of the heart
And the love borne enflames.


The peach that whispers of sweet juices.
Filled with a stone pit, unbreakable and hard.
How I long for your arsenic center,
Knowledge against wisdom, it kills.

That twist of blue in the air
Inhaling the deep draw of unrequited
surrender. How I attempt your capture
but fingers only disturb you into oblivion.


I wish I could make you
see, you dandelion creature,
blown away. Without a trace.

I wish I could force upon you
to understand my language
of love. Left un-translated.

I wish upon a thousand stars
To know your color, to know
your scent. Describe us together.


That whine of despair inches deeper
A knife so cruel, it leaves me alone
to struggle against the smooth silver
Aiming for my heart that reaches out to you.

The scent of morning glories. Rising
like a sun. You breathe sweet love into
me, but steal away my breath with a smile
A word that does not match my own.


We love those we cannot touch.
And those that love us find no shelter.

The wonder of a heartbeat
Patterns that do not match our own.

I reach out for you seeing beauty
But your rejection stings my soul.

The hunger of a sacrificed love
Find a home where you belong.



Perhaps this is all we find here, so delicate,
this creature of disjointed happiness.
The want of someone who looks to the horizon,
and finds another standing there.

How strange this game of chess, forever guessing another’s next move.
How strange this twisting, unraveling, hurt.
How strange, the whisper of the heart,
begging for just a small word of love.
How strange.