Falling in Love

Tying shoes in an intimate way, the loops fell over one another.

Puff of Smoke

The supreme intelligence is out there, the mastermind behind

The pristine happenstance is hanging in the balance

between my eyes and my mind

trapeze

blow wind blow

a puff of smoke

and all is the same

again.

Image source: https://pixels.com/featured/the-trapeze-acrobats-vintage-pix.html

The Grace of Grapes

The grapes around my waist make a belt of wine

shaded in the summer by the vines

Lo and behold come hold me

child in the dust beaten by the sun until

your mind rusts

never your heart!

Your heart is covered 

highlighted

swallowed by the halo

your grace takes over

and makes all graves full

and never hollow

Allow me to recognize this bounty

this fruitful handful count me in

to the harvest moon so full

and hanging

guiding the ships at night

across the waters

Did you ransom off your stolen daughters?

Pawn the wallets of your sons?

I had pride, once, a long time ago

but the cowboys

made me run.

Indian.

Sun.

Photo by demi huang on Unsplash

Strong Water

There is a glass of water

there is water in a glass

there is a river full of water

there is water in a river

one flows

one stands still

There is a cloud full of rain

there is rain in a cloud

There is a hose full of water

there is water in a hose

one is full of potential

one is going going gone.

How we choose to be 

the glass or the stream.

There is no right or wrong

it's just knowing which is which

so you can be strong

flowing like the essence

of joy lost and found

only in 

dreams.

Photo by Nicolas Ruiz on Unsplash

The Power of a Mirror

The sun rises in the East.

My windows face West.

In the morning at 8:05,

the sun hits the windows 

on the building across from me.

The building which does face East,

and windows which do face the sun.

The reflection is so strong

it's almost like I'm facing East.

The sun is glaring at me.

That's the power of a mirror,

it can turn the whole world

around.

Blue Gill Blues

Dew on the side of a can of Coca Cola

Looking at the babies in the strollers

holes in the jeans of the holy rollers

on their knees from where they're praying

petting sleeping dogs as they are laying

just don't wake the dragon

keep the drinkers on the wagon

I've got my head in the middle 

of a magazine

reading about all the scenes

the silver screens and hills of dreams

paid in beans and what it means

is that if life don't break you 

then your mind will

shooting fish in a barrel

this time

cock the gun

and open

the holy grail

Huck Finn

you win

you got your pail

I'm the blue gill

Blurp

Blurp

Blurp.

Might as well skin me get me on the grill and eat your fill

the hook in my mouth won't make me shout

I just have to rethink

the whole problem

of 

worms

and freewill.

Image source: https://gfp.sd.gov/bluegill/

Mix Me Up

When the coffee in the cup grows cold

it sits on the counter at the diner

in its porcelain vessel

growing colder by the moment

losing its "coffeeness"

Then, the waitress comes by

like a thief in the night

and pours a sloppy yet deft

layer

to it

And it doesn't happen like icing on a cake

nor like sediment from the times of dinosaurs

each one on the next

all lined up

in a colorful display in a canyon

no, it's something more like a Venn Diagram

what happens

when the cold coffee 

mixes with the hot

and then it is 

all warm.

Image: Pinterest MangoStreet.com

https://www.pinterest.com/mangostreetlab/

No Phoenix

The potential spillage of cigarettes rolled with shaking fingers

the ashes on the carpet are just messy, there's no Phoenix in site

She is in the bottom of the canyon praying to different gods

than the ones you know

high from a peace pipe and lower than she's ever been

What of the devil makes you shed your skin?

Snake dance into the night

let the river pound your bones

with its rushing waters

you are the canoe.

I am your paddle.

Let's get somewhere.

Image source: https://depositphotos.com/vector-images/phoenix-rising.html

It's Not Dance

The passion of the rat race ribbons

Greased for gumshoe detectives

riding high on metamorphosis

slipping over the canyon into the abyss

Was not the question in the coffee

when the clouds of cream stirred

your worried mind to think?

Mondays are always stuck in the mud

my tires spinning

into infinity

whipping the dirt 

into frenzied backpacks of schooling

which I never learned my lessons

lined notebook paper

holding me hostage

with a sharpened pencil

and the teacher's biting tongue

sour apples

the ballet dancer's career is not dance-- 

it's grace.

Look into the mirror, it's so flat that you could place your hand on it.

The world is round, ask a shipbuilder.

No use staring at the mirror

no use staring at your navel

Tie up the ballet shoes

and make a butterfly

hang a wing in shame

to your colors

your being

and your bang, bang, bang.

What is at the door?

Oh nothing, just a delusion of grandeur.

Tip him and he'll bring the car around.

Carry my luggage

swirl this mess into dice games

and crap shoots.

I'm just throwing sawdust at the moon now.

Image source:

Ballerinas on Window Sill in Rehearsal Room at George Balanchine's School of American Ballet

by Alfred Eisenstaedt https://www.allposters.com/-sp/Ballerinas-on-Window-Sill-in-Rehearsal-Room-at-George-Balanchine-s-School-of-American-Ballet-Posters_i3781711_.htm?PODConfigID=4990704&sOrigID=53680&upi=P43K8J0

Glasses

The last time this happened I fell off the ledge

dove into the waters

and felt the coolness

Now I have no place to go

just a glass of water

to drink.

The sun is rising from the center of my guitar

The sun is rising from the center of my guitar

the light is coming up there

the strings cast shadows

like tall trees in the forest

stretching on the ground of my fingertips

moving up my arms in vibrations

of acrobatic readiness

my fingertips are tight rope walkers