Rise (A Haiku)

Split apart, lying
A heap of useless pieces
Before the rebirth

On Our Way There

"We're going to a place where sad washes out cleanly with just a bit of soap and warm water. 

Where joy bursts in brightly and then settles in for the long haul."

Poetry - The Ultimate Meeting Place

"It is said — here, now — that one of the great markers of spiritual kinship is a love for the same poetry. For if two souls are equally moved by the same pulsating constellation of metaphor and meaning, they are not only bound by a common language and a shared sensibility but also exist in the same dimension of truth and possibility. Poetry, after all, is the ultimate meeting place."

      -- Maria Popova (BrainPickings)

Like a Big Umbrella

"Now everyday that we spend together
Like a ruby from a sunken treasure
I wander aimless, when she's not around me
I thank the heavens, that my baby found me"

                   -- Jonah Smith, Big Umbrella

Wintry Mix

The plows come. The salt is laid.
Puddles of quicksand slush gather at the curb.

More Gaiman, On Writing

"The main rule of writing is that if you do it with enough assurance and confidence, you’re allowed to do whatever you like. (That may be a rule for life as well as for writing. But it’s definitely true for writing.) So write your story as it needs to be written. Write it ­honestly, and tell it as best you can. I’m not sure that there are any other rules. Not ones that matter."

                                        --- Neil Gaiman, Eight Rules of Writing

Still Winter

"This is my winter song to you. 
The storm is coming soon, 
it rolls in from the sea . . . 
Is love alive? Is love alive? 
Is love?" -
                                        - Sarah Bareilles, Winter Song

Neil Gaiman's Instructions

"Remember your name. Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found. Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped to help you in their turn. Trust dreams. Trust your heart, and trust your story." 

- Neil Gaiman, Instructions

The Words Between Them: Desire

She is covered with the dark smudges of his want.

The words leap across the crackling space between them, 

and tumble across her, forming small bridges.

A deep red tumbles down her arm, 

a thin line tracing out a single cursive word, 

Freeform prose runs together and then bleeds apart.

The letters gently slip over her skin, snaking and rearranging. 

The 'D' spills out first, spreading, pooling and finally taking shape on the top of her hand
Trailing behind it, as if on a kite string, 'e' and 's' and then 'i,' 'r,' and 'e,' follow.

He imprints his want first onto her body,
then her soul.

Hurling Poems Over The Edge

"It's like flinging rose petals over the edge of the Grand Canyon & listening for the BOOM."

                                                   - Don Marquis, on writing and sharing one's poetry

Better Man?

She lies and says she's in love with him, 
can't find a better man.

She dreams in colour, she dreams in red, 
can't find a better man.

                                         - Pearl Jam, Better Man

What Places Countenance and Treat Loneliness?

"Fiction, poetry, music, really deep serious sex, and, in various ways, religion — these are the places (for me) where loneliness is countenanced, stared down, transfigured, treated.”

                                                       — David Foster Wallace

What Was That Energy?

Like an energy that is looking for its right place

Warm and achy and longing until it finds its mark

Then It can settle into that band - where it belongs. 

And then everything feels right, like it clicks.

Like that.

Like electrons, they belong in a certain energy band, and they give off energy until they settle right there. 

Where they belong. 

Like home.

Words Are Stronger

“I believe that words are strong, that they can overwhelm what we fear when fear seems more awful than life is good.”
 
― Andrew Solomon    

Writing - Let It Come To You

"People think the writer's imagination is always at work, that he's constantly inventing an endless supply of incidents and episodes; that he simply dreams up his stories out of thin air. In point of fact, the opposite is true. Once the public knows you're a writer, they bring the characters and events to you."

                                                                      ---- The Author, The Grand Budapest Hotel

Cold Quietude

The Forgotten Poem - In Verse - Untitled (1994)

Mind-Body

Your mind in those panties is the sexiest thing on this earth."

He said to her, eyeing her dimples, and her mischievous budding smile.

"You should see my soul in that bra."

Her words were bold. But she shivered at his touch.

Fog (Haiku)

A fog blankets them.

Wisps of him tumble and drift

A panic but then calm.

Perfect

"But the laughter part," he said. "That was perfection."

Love Overflowing. Just Once.

“I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it -- to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once.” 

                                                                           ― Haruki Murakami

The Cure's Disintegration - A Cento

The Cure: Disintegration*

i ran to your heart to be near,
     and we kissed as the sky fell in; then you smiled for a second

i will kiss you - i will kiss you - i will kiss you,
forever on nights like this.

the soft and the black and the velvety up tight against the side of me

let's move to the beat,
sweet [and] wild...
i tremble[], stuck in honey

whatever words i say, i will always love you
....you shatter me.
the happiness of falling down laughing,
      and i really believe[] that this time [is] forever
     
if only i could fill my heart with love,  
be still - be calm - be quiet now, my precious,
[I go] down on my knees...hungrily.

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*This poem is composed of lines from each of the tracks on The Cure's Disintegration album (1989). 

The songs are: Closedown, Disintegration, Fascination Street, Homesick, Last Dance Lovesong, Lullaby, Pictures Of You, Plainsong, Prayers For Rain, The Same Deep Water As You, and Untitled