*
it is a revelation
not one cicada
sounds the same
a butterfly sitting
by me admiring
something I lose
myself on such lightness
I use to tell children
to stop and to listen to
the songs of
butterflies as
they nodded back
This poem, written in 2014, is from the collection California Notebooks 01, click on the title if interested in your own copy.
*
when poetry comes
as a soft gliding
over my feelings
searching to appease
me a gentle caress
.
.
*
sharp the tree
branches
against the winter
sky black
a naked dance in
the brisk air
.
.
*
they the shards of ice
laying on water
don’t move nor dance
they lay still there
as the ducks try a piroette
other then gliding
.
.
*
January mornings
wake up slowly
.
in spite of long stretches
yawns and chilly air
.
everything deep in sleep
so is everyone
.
like a colorless dream
dipped in silence
.
.
*
it’s an afterward
moving
this of giving poetry
a way
to talk about the beauty
lingering
unseen
sensitivity shining
bright
in our darker days
when we
think there’s little
to be seen
.
.
Poem from the second volume of the book California Notebooks 02. If you wish to gift yourself, or someone else, a discounted copy click here. I would love to find a review from you. Best Wishes!
.
*
forever is to renew
what I already have
every day
.
.
.
*
the volume of the sky
above me and the land
stretching from my feet
.
.
.
.
Coming Soon!
.
*
it seems some days
that the sun moves
at a faster speed
it raises for a kiss
as I get a cup of coffee
and let the cat out
I see them playing
together in the shiny
grass birds may
join too as I give
shape to new poetry
typing away
suddenly it taps
on the backyard for
a sad goodbye
as I sit speechless
.
.
.
.
*
showering
under the full moon
each drop a miniature
globe satellite revolving
my breath slowing
with each step
in the garden
eyelids lowering
under the rays
reflecting
.
.
.
.
.
I was trying to
dilate a dream
connecting deep
taking time
the early afternoon
was suddenly dark
fingers sinking
into it wrenching
walking the mind
dumbfound rounds
and rounds
sleepwalker
on a pitfall
a dive into
nothingness
an upside down
.
.
.
.
*
wellness downing
with the evening
lightly salty breeze
it’s a loud concert
around me waves
crashing every where
deep remote thunder
of the sea underneath
brought up by that
back and forth moving
crickets and cicadas
fighting for the solo
now that the city man
who couldn’t stop
talking has left
I’m laying on the cliff
open to the sky
a million pieces of
me scattered the last
rays of the day will
gather
.
.
.
.
More poems of this collection: “Crossing Rivieras” can be found on this blog with the search botton to your right.
*
pensive hazel eyes
flickering around
the night
where perfumes
sail
to the clouds
away
from the cracking
tiny sound of bare feet
on sleepy grass
.
.
.
.
.
*
from among the metal bars
escape the road runners
from the golf fields
I shall follow the other band
of elderly retired – those
who drive further into
the desert to sit time
at hand to watch the
migratory birds being
stopped by no borders
.
.
.
.
.
*
I quiver as the sun
comes back out
from behind the trees
I remember being
fifteen drenched in
too many questions
boiling over in the
heat of the sunshine
evaporating upward
leaving
room for silence
to fill each single
gap each crevice
.
.
.
.
.
