Calendars

four brilliant years ago
this calendar on the wall
meant something different
the beginning of a lifetime
of memories


this year

it shows the days before.
fleeting, wasted,
I couldn't know
were slipping so quickly through my hands.

it shows the days after
counts the blind litany of days to come
the ones she'll never see.

This little gift used to fill my heart
now nailed to the wall
its twin returned to me


the eyes it was meant for
will never look on it
never count down the year again

salting wounds

here's a plump peach

bruised all the way 'round

once too many, tumble and fall

don't touch.  might fall apart

doesn't matter

no one wants a banged-up old peach anyway

Surface

peering up through clouded liquid cold

straining, reaching up to transient light

arm outstretched through empty, dark unknown

blinding sparkle hovering just above,

winking in and quickly out of sight

need to reach this

surface

wait to inhale

choking back this mortal gasp for life

The Deal

I started this little blog because some friends and family, who have been so supportive of my artistic endeavors, encouraged me to put my stuff out there instead of hiding it in my Facebook "Notes" between religious and political rants and surveys du jour. I thank them.  I'm not entirely sure I will ever have more than a few followers, but whoever reads will witness my best efforts to soul-bare, rage, purge, rejoice and love, the way only text can allow. All of my work is continually work-in-progress, as am I. I welcome your participation in my evolution... 

à la prochaine