Hummingbird,
reflecting shattered
strains of
stained glass light,
invoking the laws of physics...

You,

Threaded a muted conversation
through soup can telephones
into this delusional bubble
within the Novocaine fog.

Unexpected disruption
in my comfortable illusion,
grating vibration buzzing in...

Inadvertently excavating
that secret chamber,
pressure sealed,

Only to find there are no treasures inside.....

For the Sphinx has lost them,
and the mummy's venom
reactivates in this bent light...

and digests me...

from the inside.

as the sun sets

we melt beneath the horizon

our ears pressed to the wind,

and eyes to the skyline

our hearts beat rhythmically

under the new moon.

the dawning of a new time,

the sound of an old truth.

heart pounds like crashing thunder
at the mere thought of the idea
blood burns hot
and time stretches through space
our eyes meet...again
and steam fills the air
a quick lean without a flinch
and electricity breathes life
into a wink and a nod
and the nerves rise
a smile, and blood rushes to the surface
hands gracefully glide over flesh
chain reactions need no words
a gasp and a sigh
attest unspoken passion
lips meet and sparks fly
as breath is stolen, so is a kiss
then so is one more
dancing tongues and fireworks
synergy and floods
blood drains to fill
and fills to feel
the heat rises
taking with it the knowledge
that tomorrow is when "never" comes

Proud bird with beady eye
Who engraved your shape and form?
Scratched you into being
Gave you life

Were you wandering around a farm or homestead
before being captured
and transformed onto clay canvas?

Your azure head and olive green breast jut out
You are encircled in yellow ochre
Baked sunshine

Are you from the aztec climes
A creature of ceremony
or domestic good fortune?

A wedding gift perhaps?
Whose room have you
graced with your presence?
Whose lives have you witnessed
with your beady eye?

Your body gathering dust
on a kitchen wall
Your design primitive
Yet bold and knowing
Your glaze is cracked
deliberately
Rustic and yet glowing.

When you ask of me, why poetry
I'm not sure you understand
That it's the center of my universe
The very depth of who I am

The molecules in the air I breath
Oxygen pulsing through the veins
The storm brewing beneath the surface
The pounding of the rain

It's the timeless anticipation
Of the thought that's yet to come
The tearing open of life's seam
The beating of the drum

The first peak of the desert flower
When it feels the gentle touch of spring
The smile in the eyes of a child
And all the joy it brings

The in and out of the tide
In the pulling of the waves
When you ask of me, why poetry
What more is there to say

he whispered secrets in my ear
as i'd weave tall tales in his chin hair
     and still to this day
          we each swear
there was nothing there

other than the static charge in the sexed up air
and the moon beams
     tangled in our thunderstorm breathing

Thirteen moons
rise from your shoulders
eclipsing our eyes
before they wane

silver-blue mist
falls with the sun
setting slow
setting red
spilling its blood

Thirteen full moons
wax round your face
framing our secret
eclipsing fear

Prying
solace out from
the night
Thirteen moons
circle infinity

her body is bliss
like a cool stream of light
splashed from the moon
on a warm summer's eve

her eyes incandescent
weave futures too soon
for the frostbite
of winter's first kiss

she keeps time with her heart
hardly hearing the pall
of an autumn that falls
into sunset

she keeps mine with her heart
overcast on a glance
to the past, past
a future where she is not present

the wind Murmurs
she Whispers helpful hints
to butterflies and leaves

she Insists
sometimes for naked trees

Flows the fields delicately
into one rippling organism
pulsing in time
with the silence

she never yells or gets
angry
just too Enthusiastic