Sunset over Hudson River
on my walk home
I caught
the northern horn
of a waxing 🌒
setting thumbnail fat
She wore today
an odd orange
between buildings
this Sun's day light
taking a final bow
I saw an end
of a workweek
a poem
river skin smooth
a glass tide
all the stories
all the souls we are
#poemingthebeat
before the quiet comes did I remember to lock the door or better yet turn the oven off what other petty worries can I be a saddled you today I am not sure but I will distance myself from joy and remember all the things that could go wrong like how long can time be stretched when racked with negative possibilities, oh for the love of mud knees, soles, fingers and palms the raw earth when Spring can we sing of Love and special things can we make our hearts burst when no one is around to hear our calls to the sky little kids again kites, let them fly the strings what gathers further to smile our eyes closed imagining keyholes to heaven listening too, faint ripple sounds fabric, wind balsam wood EJR ©
direct lining divinity: a chat with self
this is not to say all is eroding or not supposed to be
or fading to a black beyond what colors us humane
(when the soul is ever an athlete dying young,
w/ apologies to Mr. Housman)...
<poem in alt text>
#poemingthebeat #reflection
#nearnessofbeauty
snip text window poem an oceanic future hot house now everything ratchets up the burst almost
how sweet the sunrise this last Saturday of summer
how we must cede the reins of time to seasons...
#emoetry #imagist #birdsongwindowstory
#impotent #empower #imagination #poemingthebeat
i already know
nose to nose
what grows here
root to script
this is how
the poem ends...
#threewordlines
#poemingthebeat
a sepia toned soaked alleyway of a old city block, cloaked in shadow a light at the end of the tunnel... the setting sun sate: an exhale reactive didactic managing paradoxes run rabbits running from teams of foxes trotting between rows root vegetables in tow galactic gallant muons putting on a show how carrying time dilates a soul iris aware, its wear where a ware it has become #emoetry #poemingthebeat
sate: an exhale
reactive didactic
managing paradoxes
run rabbits running
from teams of foxes
trotting between rows
root vegetables in tow
galactic gallant muons
putting on a show
how carrying time dilates
a soul iris
aware, its wear
where a ware
it has become
#emoetry
#poemingthebeat
East up Grand Street
from the alley at Franklin Plaza
quiet pearls before work
#troyny
#poemingthebeat
poeming with the river rats
waiting on my ride...
#gilscott
#poemingthebeat
i want my best poem
to be my last poem
for its echo to ring
birdsong or a crocus bloom
returning when Spring
in the most musical sense
of sacred geometry
of happenstance and will
of taste, touch, sight, scent and sound
of what one never forgets
to feel as if this breath...
#poemingthebeat
we never forgot Persia
had to sacrifice much
to never sever
the lever function
of limbic memory
had we over stayed
our first incarnation
had we strayed from
observer to anointer
or were we just another
in a series
of interloping DNA
riding along cosmic winds...
#poemingthebeat
inside the eyes
nose sits
wading imagination
for our tasty
and memorable bits
there're moments in our lives
when we glimpse infinity's clarity
and it's in these fleeting embraces
we take our bones paces
through being loved to places
our soul keeps wanting to come back to
#poemingthebeat
Befana on a broom
this is what happens when God, the lead agency
forgets and bowsprits stop getting on with it
blade edging breaks of daylight
dyes need be fed into dreams
pouring stardust she would say
as we flew over houses
and walled gardens
a world below
ever waking...
#poemingthebeat
inside what's said,
we are waiting words
intended mentioned mended
and the fences between
water and circus
bread with dinner
small leaves when spring
all things said
like a poem...
#poemingthebeat
I enjoy writing the tides
and the rides of every month
being born on Yule Ides
I find myself tuned to the fulcrums
ensconced in your pourng a cup of tea
I watch the steam rise
yes, balance is our key...
#poemingthebeat
we cannot get back time
but perhaps we can slow down the now
everyone has some kind of off ramp
honed in, remember by scent
this mapless embrace
telling time by how the trees look
smelling a rise of rain
when a soaked Earth
hears the call of the wind
each change of season
#poemingthebeat
every shadow has a light farm
in the silt rich penumbra region of the myths
from whence it rained what births
its forms from source formlessness
its lovely bends, roots and reaches...
#vss365 #poemingthebeat
we followed the rain
the way
her fingers spoke
they broke me, my
tangled hair
her entangled wear
lovers exploring more
how abandoned
the self can be
before the beg
of responsibility
comes due, here
where a poem
I knew
had her scent
stained time too...
#poemingthebeat
someone dressed the lions at the gate in footed pajamas
wth bunny ears... i laughed... remarking to the dog
that even meaty beasts like chocolate jesus
season... deviled eggs for the gatekeepers...
#poemingthebeat
and suddenly
one morning
addicted to sorrow
eyes became aware
no wear left
a ware we are say dey
thin bare there
a ghost life fed many coins
into the arcade
found chance is not a game
while choice is an apple seed
and as much a plow sword
the moment any us holds loam...
#poemingthebeat
wearing nothing but what words do
when alchemically surrendered to
"fortunato" you call to me...
clam shell spaceships
a new sky mood lighting
certainty of original scent...
#poemingthebeat
i am guessing poets have always
dug themselves raw and ready
for a truer philosophy
for always falling
madly
in Love...
#poemingthebeat
I paint over recollection
the bonfire of my lifetimes passing me by
no records set in stone
or some other monuments
meant to last
beyond a pale ghost lace
of my exhales
evening caught cold air
wanting to be Spring
under the yellow sodium sorrow
of anti crime street lights
#poemingthebeat
we are living in a time
where more often than not, "No fucking way",
exclamations of disbelief are becoming
an unanswerable cry for understanding
following the money is dangerous
for any heart of what matters to you
spend your wisdom wisely
our guise of innocence is waning
#poemingthebeat
enchanted by our scent
it is an almost complete
it is almost a pure singularity
consciousness, tides, tithe teats
poets glow words guide us
mothers may eyes
and those supple
little roots
what finds us
wanting more
of these
little cakes
and teas
every day
until we die
#poemingthebeat
silt senesence
crawl lilith dawn
low tiding in mist
for amphibians
yes to bees as laughter
as always vaunted
kiting time and wind
and trees
because comic relief
is a winged prayer belief that
when words turn
they never mind us becoming
hungry mouths
poems of sometimes
#poemingthebeat
unseen
scent angels
devil leans
alive slivered
between where
wearing bones
bathes the soul in
r
o
a
n
light
calendar approach
pantry fed scents
we linger
hope inside poem
inside hope
hands tucked
inside pockets
walking
on in a cold rain
#poemingthebeat
olfactory
we could smell
every outside
every night
they all smelled
of impossible
being within reach
it was then
like the end
of all pocket stories
glories we carry
it was then when we let go
each hand in hand
every eyes inside eyes
wise, on and on
stardust again...
#poemingthebeat
a live soul in the rain
felt a self
falling to fill
then till swirl slow
a rise whether still
is just evaporative dance
water is Life
can we struggle for thrive
do we know
how electromagnetic angels surmise
what we might do
with so many heavy metals
in our bloodstream...
#poemingthebeat
she sang her eyes turned toward the Moon
songs, pressed velvet folded darks, children dawn knew
bending birth whats the Earth Mother hums
milk for the tired and weary souls come to rest
i play a poem and cook
her background vest
taking to making sure
we smile, love laughs best
#poemingthebeat
the purse clasps of a miller's daughter
she showed me things
after asking me
to close my eyes
she said
in order to feel
you have to be willing
to birth yourself
alone
i palmed this
thought in the dark
and crawled what dawn
must have felt like
dew on her window sill...
#poemingthebeat
