Of all the creatures that
have crossed the page,
my favourite of all
is the White Sage

Passing through time
from magic sands,
it was gifted her Story
went through the lands

From trails of snails
and the twitter of birds,
nature alone
passed on the word

Her beauty does shine
and challenge the light,
the twinkle of eye
glows sapphire at night

A gown flowing free
of golden hue,
and the cord at waist
a rainbow of blues

Point Omega
(to Don Delillo)

The mind sees through scaley eyes
gelatinous atoms inside are oozing
flinging electrons into others, lazily
rapid fireflies colliding.....sparks

consciousness is weary, grown sphinx-like, tired
The eternal experiment has failed again
it's designs fall to the will
of the pack
gold verticle eyes point the gene of destruction

There are times that I am not supposed to be here.

I should be sitting on your lap
Telling you about the dream I had in gym class
Or maybe just kissing you

I should be tangled in your blankets
Swimming around pillows
Trying to find you

I should be feeling something more
Than the hollow ring of the bell in me
That resembles my voice

I should be hearing your body sing
Breath passing over me
Pull in, push out

coma penchant

threaded fears invaded

the oil crisp slide

a dream touch away

lanolin burn creme

pervaded

soft as that Autumn blush

cropped and tender brush

while a moist wind of river

groped the poplar rush

high arcade crystal

cd spinner

come in from the hate

of that dark breath

full of night

you smell of

stars

and the wounds of

ache

overflow their grave

like a sure Lost Love

the nails across my

throat and heart

Leaves stampede across the ground
fleeing from the winter cold
they scurry with a rustling sound
as last days of the year unfold

They'll each end their sprint somewhere
some might fetch up on a log
others lift into chill air
perhaps they'll land in a deep bog

This winter wind cuts to the bone
turning sedge fields into seas
little wonder I'm alone
few would brave such cold brisk breeze

Talking behind their back
bitterness their only track
of stories they have no lack
truth or fiction they don't care
challenge them if you dare
seeping poison from their pores
now they'll only hear my snores
as my silent derision roars
pity them their shallow lives
placing in backs their knives

I listened and heard
in the gurgle
of streaming waters
the timeless tunes
of freedom

I watched and saw
in the flapping wings
of the dove
the boundless joy
of freedom

I stopped and saw
in the face of
the sun flower
beauty of the sun
of freedom

I came and saw
in the face of
a man barred behind bars
the throes of a life
devoid of freedom

Doors close to us at every turn,
And others open so we learn.
Not a simultaneous event.
A good portion of our time thus spent,
In life's hallways near and far,
Looking for the door ajar.

I -
Insouciant
ingracious
indifferently
benign

You -
courageous,
flagrantly outspoken -
have opened
my mind

Nestling joy
suckles at this breast
Awakened longing
from what was
an insensate mess

A ratchet to my desires
has been wrenched at the wheel
I am alive again
I breath
I feel

7-01-13

This poem is by MIKE CARTER, he couldn't send it so I am doing it for you, hope I'm forgiven. Ann.