Dreams dreamed in the dark of night
change form and substance by the light of day
dreams dreamed in dazzling daylight lose themselves in the hush of the midnight hour.
The rose turns to black when the deepest
set of night closes over its red flushed petals, changing substance into shadow.
Assuming the rose survives the night
will daylight redefine its scented, velvet texture.
Have a wonderful weekend everyone...a snowy one for many of my American friends. :))
An insoluble trickle of tears illuminating fears
leaked from past encounters licking scabbed
wounds.
Compounded by loneliness, tested in the
oven of ire, fired in the kiln of passion, eager
for recompense.
Bound by a pitiably unending framework
of emotions.
Tangled in cords unraveling
thread by thread each strand of
angry frustration...
desperate,
seeking revenge.
Have a great Friday and weekend 55'ers. It's good to be back in the land of writing! :)
For more 55's visit G-Man at Mr. Knowitall.
I left you lying in the dirt, right along with
my black words on white paper. Angry questions,
muddied under your faint footprint on once
pristine paper.
You never had any vision.
I wonder back over those aggression filled fights,
the insistence that all was right, fathomless nights,
circling back a full circle - ending now.
~~
During the week, as I was walking to my car, I stepped over a piece of paper that somebody else had stood on...something about that paper called me back to take a look at it. That something, was a hand written statement:
"It's not fair for you to take everything I say and turn it into a fight."
Strange where inspiration will spring from...even someone's adversity.
For more 55's visit G-Man at Mr. Knowitall.
love,
Eaton
Indigo blue, indelible in a crease-less velvet~~
sea of stars, securely woven into the fabric
of night, oblivious to the naked search
of an eye
Lone stars reflect a single poignant truth,
witnesses to an unfolding destiny, undeniable
in brilliant clarity - observed in a period of
time intoned in the voice of an angel.
A cacophony of invisible innuendo slyly ties each voice together,
whispers loudly infer: she is the bejeweled, king's ransom.
Gowned 'round her bountiful waist, exotic silk and lace dance a
flurried sweep of fluid movements, beckoning all to her call - femme fatale.
beware...
transparent tulle bares the rise and fall of Heads of State,
on breasts incandescent in 1000 watt candle light. Diamond
bright eyes beguile with a sultry smile, coquettishly implied behind
the flutter of a feathered fan;
with a flick of her delicate wrist,
a twist of ruby red lips,
subtleties she employs to expose lies to spies in a game named - Seduction.
Love's words rob me of breath, my mind's-eye viewing images your thoughts create, the thrill of each intense sentence opening windows in the mind to view a visual epiphany curling around each neuron, slowly sliding along ecstatic nerves begging anticipated graphic phrases - a delight to hungry eyes that espy the purpose and their meaning.
I write on the edge of words
searching for insistent wisps,
teasing glimpses that dance out of reach
circling the peripheral corners of my mind,
lack of letters dangling from the end of my pen; no beginning - no end.
Mysterious thoughts leaking black for lack of illumination, leave me in a
state of agitated stagnation
Snake black bitumen mirage
slithering sleekly over heat shimmered sands glazed flame red,
sketching a lonely horizon attached to azure blue skies.
Hidden lizards fear for their parched fleshin moisture-less air fired by a zenith sun.Skeletons bleached bone white.Not a sound heard on silent air; but
Frustratingly hard to fathom,
the deflection of your affection
I'm the same, you're the same,
what made you turn from
my direction
I'm feeling bad, mad as hell,
spurned--not taking it well
Cursing and yelling,
my thoughts are shallow,
emotions hollow;
the echo of your voice
will follow me into
tomorrow.
~~
fluid blues meandering down my spine~~~
each finger tip a rhythmic trip unlocking
muscle knots, easing tension lines
seeking dip and dimple, simple to
explore; slipping, dipping, skimming
every cell and pore, soothing, smoothing
pressure points, tissue begging more
stroking, kneading, stress releasing each
warm sweep of oil:
your finger pressure;
a measured treasure--pleasure.
Stilettos--sarcasm sharp
balance a hurricane smile
painted slick licks on glossed lips
red leather twists, punctuated
sway on staccato hips
a shrug, a glance; possessed
of the chance to assess you,
with a black eyed stare, calculated
flair, she does not care.
a flash of passion, puerile fantasy
flagrantly unfaithful,
her seductive design: divine.Have a fun Friday and weekend everyone...
a temporary time and place
woven between green leaf lace dark
space, he sits listening to thunder,
mesmerized by lightning, waiting for
rain to spill; splashing a musical refrain
upon his face upturned in the untamed night.
A smile lighting deep brown eyes. In the silence
I hear him whisper, "darlin', here comes the rain."
Dream-scape sky, in your vast silence
hear a beloved's cry, call to a distant lover--a sigh,
whose visage sought by darkest night, a star ship
sailing stellar streams of moonbeams;
seeking to return the favor amidst iced crystal
drops found halo bright, held tight by southern lights;
Come love, behold the constellations within His embrace.
Faded beauty splintered, exposed, in the silver
slivered glass fallen dirty to the floor. Pearls of
broken promise run in concentric circles ever
around a love begged Utopia, never found.
The past mistaken for the present
a parade of faces, places and memories
masked by doubt; grasp a half mast future
at the last gasp.
~~
against the rich
just how they got it
fatted calves with
greedy eyes who
peruse with distaste
the poor as they
grovel for more
Photo borrowed from
Dan Heller
Photography
Click link for more amazing stairways.
Mother to Son by Langston HughesWell, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
~~
I was totally unprepared
for for that first look into
your innocent face
the instinct to protect and
nurture overwhelming
no previous experience could
have prepared me for the
moment when selflessness
was required twenty four
hours a day
or for the countless sleepless
nights the first temperature
and cutting teeth
nothing prepared me for the
love that lasts way beyond
childhood into rebellion and
out the other side--an adult
But here I am
a mom
still so often unprepared
for you or motherhood
