A ground has beginnings:
Longing and forgivings;
Mandate in a bottle,
Lost without a harbour.
As blue sky’s winning,
Heart jumps spinning;
Lover and a well laid plan,
Governor’s left this land.
Help the lizard.
Death on a one way street,
Trucks getting really beat,
Dust covering wiskey tracks.
I lost that scope,
Whittled it down into spice and chutney
Grumbling with vengeance
To unresponding pebbles
While sculped demi-gods whispered
Into darkness and a masked Persian
Dangled scented indulgence
Over two freshly peeled cocktails.
I watched it float on,
Into the Wall.
Memory had the young lad locked into heartache
Said a long face into still waters, messy brown hair.
Even puppy’s breath flowers, scattered about un-special pebbles
That were delicately delivered by glacial giants in a spring long ago,
Couldn’t lick the apparitions floating about.
Mounting piles of she-loves-me-she-loves-me-not
Couldn’t dare stop to observe silent friends soaring high above,
Or recognize it wasn’t what was left without.
But the great deal of compromise left standing tall
Two men in full militia calling: go within.
Laughing at imaginations that crisply punctuated my effortless circles of family, I crossed the path that led me to inevitability. It was here I sat down tired.
To my dismay, I was greeted by an understanding gesture that pickled my sentence with freshness beyond the cucumber, but all was not lost for I had a scapegoat.
Yet as I spoke my attention was caught, to which I followed down steps towards heavenly waterfalls to meet a pure maiden who took me by the hand and lightly led me across cobblestone walkways towards the utopia I had come to know and love.
So my imagination left me, and I was greeted by a hand of sincerity and kindness which knew my full name and hugged me as I came. I then carried on, for around me was family, and I was the same.
I lost that scope,
Whittled it down into spice and chutney
Grumbling with vengeance
To unrespinding pebbles
While sculped demi-gods whispered
Into darkness as a masked Persian
Dangled scented indulgence
Over two freshly peeled cocktails.
Like a rose
My heart unfurled into
Untangled mess,
Jagged first touch.
City sounds reverberate
Off multicolored baseball caps
And stuffed flower boxes
That blur vision when
Traveling at cycling speed.
But bypassing red light lines
In spinning fashion
Has a sort of air to it
That pulls hard on lungs
And makes the day feel alive!
Love are the whispers that ring in moments of now.
Love is the emptyness filling up an empty row.
Love is in footsteps: heel to toe, heel to toe.
Love is a memory as everything glows.
Love is a little bird whistling as it goes.
Love is a deep inhale, exhale, flow.
Love is inside like soil for to grow.
Love has two arms that dearly bestow.
Love sings a song of abundant jovial.
Love is inside, when all else returns.
Let go inward heart
Return soaring mind
Sensation hardly gone
Chase forever lost
Force a battle wound
Galloping wild mustang
Love is memory
Service big plan
Warrior crying loud
Hunter stalking prowl
Wild free
Released into thee
Rhythm is a magic thing.
Ebb.
Flow.
It takes the heart
And encircles it with
Falling Autumn leaves
And afternoon window shoppers
Dressed in
Late-morning-sunshine-yellow polo shirts
And walked-a-mile shoes.
Rhythm is two steps
For every one breath
On a muggy evening
Along a windy, ocean view
Pedestrians only path
In a healthy city.
Rhythm is necessary,
Just as long steady gusts for big bubbles
And late afternoon naps are.
Because if the heart takes a leap
And forgets which beat
Is flip flopping around deep inside,
Then all mastery of any subject
Is floating lifelessly away
Amidst breadcrumbs scattered for ducks
In a sea of slugs on a hungry Tuesday.