a flower
on her shoulder
in black
and in white,
her soul twines
beneath
sun
magnified…
There are birds
in a circle
that swoop to a call
from deep
in the loop
surpassing it all…
The conscious sky beats
to time
engaged
in a frenzy of sweet
inner chime
on the stage….
Pools of light
hold her heart,
soft on your eye
keeping exquisite, forever alive.
Suave breeze
whispers
musssssk
a journeyman
a tango king…
Moving hands rest
split second
above lace,
gravity is his boy
and
flesh?
Well…..flesh is warm as dimpled dough
Two weeks,
aeons when
succumbing to the insanity of Love.
Two weeks of yearning buzz,
confused bee’s
flutter in the chest
while ivy struggles for clear path.
Two weeks of living,
incomplete, drenched existence
stormy child
frightened, dying.
Meeting oneself on a muddy track,
holding back, not holding back.
A jungle of a life time when
eating an endless dessert of tinned plum,
red, rich,
sickly, sweet.
Two weeks.
Stop!
I turn against this instructed combustion
and welcome clean and easy light,
a glow of love without the eternity.
Calm the drama
rest the finger picking
and wringing of old bells and hands.
Be still bee’s
you know your queen,
fly straight.
Two weeks,
a string of life lived,
a little plant growing through
a brazen crack.
Two glorious weeks of crisp sheets
and windy nights
and peanut butter
and coffee and yellow dog and paint.
Two weeks.
Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told
Haikus Senryus and Tankas about anything and everything
Poetry
musings on life | bits of psychology | attempts at poetry
In other countries individuals go to jail and/or die for weblogging. While the bulk of this country makes the internet an extention of T.V.
Let me inspire the possibility of what could be
"where creativity roams free"
The Poetry Monarch.
Sometimes serious, often humorous personal musings on life, death, and everything in between from someone once chased by a killer Canadian goose.
JEFF CALLAWAY
Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!
Hoping to inspire the world one word at a time.
Sharing my poetry to help end the stigma about mental health
well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.
He started Writing, The paper started speaking...
