ode to a layer cake

oh layer cake
with your terrior
like fog on a hillside
secretly nurturing happiness
deep and shadowed with hope
we cling to all that is
necessary
and provocative
withstanding the elements
of despair and
elegance
you dance in my dreams
oh my sweet layer cake
with your tutu and cheese
blending in my palette
with a sweet breast of dijon
full and complete
with dancing ladies from bordeaux
aging like the finest moment
on a friday afternoon
the bread of life
cradles my spirit
and laminates my dreams
and humbles my soul
fragrant blossoms float in
a tent filtering moonlight while
animals dance and play the game
of life and possibility
laying beneath
the layers of a cake

the nest

there once was this bird
ancient and full of grace
as its’ genetic inclinations
moved as the forces of nature that
which incidentally dwelled upon
the drifting current of circumstance
and of course work
as with all of us
work gives something which
hope can not
work gives a strength
of purpose and light
work gives us the pillar of humanity
so back to the bird
this bird
with its colorful instinct
attracted another bird and of course
as these stories go
they fell in love deeply
with the moment
and all of their future moments
and spent their days well….
working
you know as birds do
yet these two birds were very different
for as they worked they
also told their story
a circle of life
which only revolved around them
and their moments
this made this couple very excited
they shared their time
their food and looked out
for one another
for as we know this
is one of the things that love does
to all of us for
they worked at building their nest and
as they began working
they entered into a place where
their whole being was protected
in a trance like state
each day after collecting
food they spent hours selecting
only the most perfect
ingredients for their nest
they wove and poked and
collected spider webs
to glue it together when it was finished
it was a magnificent piece
of art
it provided
as they found out
it was a perfect circle of life
which they fit snuggly into
as they danced in this circle of life
they found something
profound and quite astonishing
for as they danced
their minds were spinning
into a delightful feeling
which shuttered
throughout their entire bodies
from the tip of their little beaks
down through their toes
and out the tips of their tails.
the birds loved this feeling
of each other
so much they did it
again and again and again
and then
rested
and could not wait
to do it again

curving into a sunday afternoon

There was this man
who loved to tell stories
and in all of his
stories there was
a message
of some sort
and because of this
he held his passion
close to his heart
sometimes the stories
were songs
some were poems
and some were
well stories
which held his
passions like an artist
to his canvas
cluttered in paint and drama
curving into a Sunday afternoon
his life
now crippled
with the thunder
clouds of pain
attacking his life
praying to the
goddess of hope
that he can walk
again
like what
are you thinking
translucent and clear
we speak
yet refuse to hear
the ancient ones
calling our names
hesitation springs eternal
upon wings
of change
perhaps circumstance
or
some kind of destiny
or some kind
of ecstasy lingering
upon essences
of hope
teetering at any moment
so this story
perhaps however uncertain
hangs upon
the eternal springs
of hope
which linger enchanted
yet delicately
folding tentatively
uncertain yet
moving forward
to his next story

a chronology of what has past

the new moon rises
as the black velvet curtain of night
shrouds the eternity
of what we perceive
and what has been lost
gaining ground upon
a completeness
yet disjointed
which lays forlorn yet
hopeful and full
of something greater
than what we are
and only hope to regain
from the heart
of what has been
secretly kept
with intent
from another time
a chronology of
what has past
and what will come
back again
for us
with the essence
of what has remained

hovering in thickets of chemise and lilac

have you ever thought
of the future
which lingers on a balance
as hues of pomegranate
and rose dance upon
rolling waves
full of the moment
left dancing
delicate and
trance like
exquisite and full
that lay stained
beautifully
as mulberry and summer
succeeds upon my memory
geese fly
toward the horizon
full of the ancients and balance
in flight
with endurance
folded calm
of granite and maple
as leaves dance
in the oncoming autumn light
as gold fields bob in the breeze
proceeding up slope
as forever
its presence ominous
on this night full of questions
with answers awaiting
hovering in thickets of chemise and lilac
with purpose
yet not discovered
or even contemplated
how must one breathe
in such an environment
which sequesters hope
with hidden agendas and
a purpose of deception
with greater fatigue
I relinquish my hopes
my dreams again
lost in the moments
of your uncompromising presence
with my train rolling
down the track
pointed toward the next horizon
with my speckled spanish
trickling down the back of my throat
choking all that is
which fills my thoughts
on this day filled with lonely hope
yet broods my passions and stymies my progress
because it is of you
I have aligned my future
and I am held captured with thoughts
of emptiness and in the end
I am alone

Un Baguette

I am a baguette
walking crusted over
like velvet
with a charlotte dancing
upon finely laid stones
that clamor out
the carved breath of emotion
the rigor of this perception
guides me with fogged breath
I roast sudden moments
which I hold like dripping memories
on this young night
crisp like a freshly cut bean
hitting a bowl curved
by hands with memories
long forgotten

crisp thoughts whisper

crisp thoughts
whisper in a
blended crowd of camma ruru's
they are found silently hoping for bliss
while waiting silent for a hot dog
together they watch a juvenile elephant
full and erect
his nose now dancing
in a bramble of lunch
and families with fat wallets
paint a portrait of saturated gluttony
while the sadness of the world
melts overthem
like used crayons
which once painted
a history of something pristine

tender shoots of hope

upon tender shoots of
hope wading against circumstance
stark references dance in the circle of life
to an ancient rhythm
calling us back
we listen

bathed in mauve and ginger

euphoric moments drizzle
in waves upon my thoughts
awaking memories long lost
now released
vividly and provocative
colors dancing in anticipation
along the horizon
beyond the ridge
bathed in mauve and ginger

a chronology of what has past

as the black velvet curtain of night
shrouds the eternity
of what we perceive
and what has been lost
gaining ground upon
a completeness
yet disjointed
which lays forlorn yet
hopeful and full
of something greater
than what we are
and only hope to regain
from the heart
of what has been
secretly kept
with intent
from another time
a chronology of
what has past
and what will come
back again
for us
with the essence
of what has remained

we have spoken to the prophets 

once upon a time
we lived in the forest
the desert
and by the sea
each time you have been close to me
when the weather is hot 
or the weather is cold
our love has been strong
our love has been old
we have been trees
ancient as the wind
we have been everywhere
is where we have been 
snuggled in a cave
a nook and a bed
laying on our backs
with our love still dancing 
in our heads
searching for the sky with 
light whispering in the clouds
we have spoken to the prophets 
and guided the word
we have been rain drops 
and even a bird
we have wrestled with intent 
and many letters have been sent
and many received 
and most have been read
we always have reflected 
on what has been said
and what is an illusion

where calm begins

contemplating the art
that  they will saturate
together with clarity
fluid
pristine pools
of chocolate  truffles
floating upon marzipan whirls
and skies of pomegranate
facing west on a thursday diverted
into the night
working
on silly yet
holding on to the pier
beyond the surf
where calm begins

drifting pleasantly

Sweet flower of pomegranate
floating on water
calm and still with it’s
personal reflection dancing
lays profound
and eloquent
yet innocent
drifting pleasantly

wet sky thirsty earth

wispy vapor falls slowly against a mélange of celadon
brushing against my cheek
and nesting in my hair 
I am humbled by it’s
awakening flight
gathering strength and size
they become something more
as bulging droplets fall
in scattered sheets
on a thirsty landscape
pulled by the gravity of the moment
Suddenly the sky opens its coffers
and releases its bounty  
sheets of nurturing liquid flash horizontally
against the horizon of forever