Uncategorized

Some stories were never meant for soft tones

on moist lips

some are made for blistered throats

and calloused feet

that have walked too long

in the world you own

and call our home

~

our legs carry the ache

of too much shaping

molded and folded

to fit into your pocket

let out when you needed a blow

~

like a tissue

we are delicate

thinned out

torn

creatures cast out into the wind

searching for a surface

to take us in

~

this is a story so loud it cracks bones

and leaves lips a bloody mess

~

it is a story of how

we always try out best

to be you wife

your mother

your daughter

and your friend

~

your dirty little minx

cracking whips to no end….

-Volumes

Uncategorized

If my life is one for dropping

in and out

of other lives

then so be it.

Let me be a fly on the wall

collecting scraps

when necessary

bathing in all

that was meant for someone else.

I am a consumer of life

and an observer of days

I watch the way mouths rise and fall

upon the words

of another’s lips.

I sip coffee

and lounge in the taste

as though it was created

with my palette in mind.

When my feet occupy space

time steps out of the way

making room for me to see

the way my shadow

makes shapes

against the invading sun.

The wind knows better

than to keep itself at bay

it greets me with an overwhelming hello

and sometimes

a long

soft

tearful goodbye.

Nostalgia settles in my bones now

and I float

upon a carpet of laughter and cries

that make the best of days

and the worst of days

a beautiful dream

I’ll never taste again

 

-Life artist