I am imagination

     blazing flashes of imaged light

     soul caught on fire

     silence in hush of day

     discreet gentle feet

I am imagination

     framing your love

     reaching for our yesterdays

     closed eyes seeking hope

     past unfolding into butterflies

I am imagination

     upside down reality

     daisies of your smile

     flight through winged sky

     garments of pink sand

I am imagination

     surreal dreams with no limits

     shadows of infinity clinging

     drops of clear water on tongue

     holding hands of summer hues

I am imagination

      wild with infatuation

     throbbing with need

     tasting the sweetness

     guided by pale moon

But are you just my imagination?

Sad world~

Our smile is sad

Yellowed and cracked

Our bones burned to ashes

Our backs bent to tank-flashes

Peace hiding in the woods—of the green heart

The soil denied and refused to drink our blood

Died of our thirst and dryness

The beautiful species, half ‘lying’ on a shiny, greasy dish

And half strives for attention, in the fancy garbage

As the stray rats digging in the bottom of a trash can

And the others decorating our walls and labeling skins

Cheaply! Manufactured on our seats for the gateway carpet

Sad world. Sad and dry and pathetic

And lack of every meaning of the word—‘ethic.’

_________________________________

And I live in this world●

#TheModernBlackHole

#HumanGreed #Wars #Nature #Destruction

#ModernWorld #Power #Capitalism #SadWorld

Perhaps Poetry is but Self-consumed flattery, guile... I suppose it might be elevated to a leavened trial—Goods we kinda-sorta prepare and then timidly dare-to-share. (Is this a casually veiled tendency towards lack of commitment? Why not roll it out in a plain ol’ prosaic paragraph?) Then again, perhaps it's an ultimate act of humility—A declaration that we never know: The riddle of our lives ever-presenting anew Its questions, undermining our foolish “answers.”

…Poetry's the scent of the Portrait; the taste of the StillLife; the sound of the Sculpture; the look of the Melody; the feel of the Moving Picture; the Aha that only peeling layers of abstraction brings. Poetry's the “I think-I-know-what-you-mean and can’t respond adequately!” Above all this, Poetry is an open Hallelujah, a taking in, a giving back, a signing thanks to the Heavens …Our devoted saying of Grace and breaking of bread at the table of Life.

I talk to myself in the still silence

     leaving a trail of tiny air pebbles,

     I stop breathing in synchrony

     to your heartbeat, encased

     in a folded cage, trapping me

     in a place I try valiantly to escape.

I reach for you but you can’t hear

     my words are scattered, invisible

     a translucent force, backhanding me,

     in an eye blink, I turn to face nothing,

     obliterated swirling thoughts, unknown.

     Why can’t anyone else hear me?

I am hidden in the weeds of indifference

     surely you know what I am saying, but

     my open estuary confesses only to me.

     I beg of you to feed my raging fire

     by listening to the image in your mirror.

     Must I be the only one to validate

     my worth, hidden in my own intensity?

The unforgettable feeling…

Of a burning sensation

Behind your eyelids

All because she touches your face

After twenty years…

Twenty years…

You were ten years’ old 

And you were smitten with her as she with you

Then you disappeared

Never to be seen again

Broken hearts shattered dreams

You would write to her…

And she would respond

After a year the letters would cease

Her phone calls would stop too

Broken hearts shattered hopes

Five years had passed…

You dreamt of her from time to time

Dreamt of her touching you

Even that memory fades

Broken hearts shattered memories

Fifteen years since the day you left…

You don’t think of her

Then one day a stray thought enters your mind

A memory of her laughing, your heart flutters

Broken hearts shattered emotions

Twenty years later…

You return to your old town

Walking up your old block

Stopping, you hear a familiar laugh

Broken hearts shattered reality

Your eyes connect with hers

Do your orbs deceive you? No

Your breath catches in the back of your throat

She begins to walk towards you

Broken hearts shattered visions

She says your name, but you fail to speak

There is a burning sensation behind your eyes

A tear falls down your cheek

She smiles as she caresses your face

Mended hearts, tears of joy.