that's mrs. mediocrity to you

I believe in spring flowers on the kitchen table.

I believe the moon knows all the world’s secrets,
and if you listen, she’ll whisper to you in your sleep.

I believe cardinals were sent to keep color alive during winter.

I believe ghosts are the physical manifestation of hope.

I believe gardens are the very same thing.

I believe there are 56 days in February,
but every calendar is missing a page.

I believe mountains are the keeper of silence.

I believe there are 9,837 different kinds of love,
each one a leaf on the deciduous tree of life.

I believe music is the wind, whispering through those leaves.

I believe in messes, beautiful, beautiful messes.

I believe snowflakes are the only form of perfection.

I believe light makes us grow, but darkness keeps us sane.

I believe forests remember
every person they’ve ever encountered.

I believe words are the oldest religion.

I believe north is the strongest direction.

I believe we are all in this together,
most especially those who stand alone.

I believe birds were the world’s first poets.

I believe in spring.

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we do this dance round the kitchen

bouncing off each other like pinballs in a space too small
for one communicating in a language evolved from grunts
and sighs and a pat on the leg that means: excuse me

our life grows from this place and there are always flowers
purchased with food because they offer the same slow
sustenance and this one tiny window does not

reveal as much as it keeps the light out behind
curtain wall curtain and there’s no room for waltzing
but we make do and break our bread in the silence

that falls between now and forever even though
you never like what i cook and i never eat what i
like we never go hungry or further than the living

room with its fire our food a dark chocolate finale
as dishes pile up in the corner crooning leftover notes
of consumption and waiting to be washed while we

do this dance round the kitchen

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Linking in today over at dVersePoets for Open Link Night, join us!

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is always temporary

like the darkness
you’ve learned
to forgive

dawn is never your saviour
but almost enough
to make you
believe

clean is a fresh white cover
despite the mud
crawling through
what lies beneath

a map of every step
you’ve ever taken

you could be followed

you cannot wash yourself in crystal

you never were pure

this is the way you will melt

a pool of poison
sifting merriment
from bones

this soil contains us

eternity’s sacred measure

gravity’s compression

gleaning diamonds
to atone

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Linking in today over at dVersePoets for Open Link Night, join us!

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i watch the sound of you
make shapes in the enemy of sky
and you shift change until I lose
the voice behind your words

this earth is cold and grey
and i stand motionless
as you scream
your quavering dance
through a wind
filled with knives and
stinging nettles

your flight is the map
of all things living
and i raise my arms

briefly

thinking perhaps i could
cut in
learn to waltz
or at least

follow

but I am no angel and
you have black wings

i have fingers and toes
and this listening heart

and we both know

this is always and never

even as you land
on the corner of my shadow

pecking code and
marking melodies

neither one of us
is free

in the hush
in the quiet

under breath
beneath the bridge

i never cross
never burn

forest blaze
dancing flame

pirouette
in deep dark shadow

spin spin
never stop

my heart
is your whisper

my voice
is your silence

my music
your zephyr

i am quiet
always quiet

winding through
your ancient labyrinth

never lost
never sorry

for your imprint
on my skin

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frozen

when i want to dance

rooted

when i want to fly

stiff

when i want to bend

smiling

when i want to cry

watching

when i want to close

my eyes

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Linking in today over at dVersePoets for Open Link Night, join us!

your mark has left me wandering for days
solid stare and frozen poultice
broken skin and grey bone bruises

you refuse to reveal what you clock
and i refuse to ask questions

even so, you block my vision
hem me in
and i resent
your cut glass cloak

watching waiting listening

you’ve never been so temporary

my heat fills the room with black fire
because you refuse to hold color

and i have never been seen

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(.p.s. jack frost really did paint this picture on my window)

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when you’re finally done being silent

when the night is two hours too long

when open is all you can be

racing gently towards the lost sun

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you think you need a beacon to guide you
when all you have to do is listen

your heart is always beating
bleating
making time

silence is a concept invented by the dead
and music is the door to eternity

everything you see is a story
told by the voice of your mind

whisper marry
murmur song

refusing to be censored

fairy tale potentate
in the dark
in the dark
in the dark

lifeblood’s memory

melody

refrain

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Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night – join us!

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spaces close up and voices grow louder
the din of existence an ever-present echo

i see you
i hear you
i approve of you

or not

there is no off button
no way to unplug
(though we all pretend, often)

we are slicing hearts open
and living out loud

from a distance
cacophony bleeds music

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