Winged shoes in flight rarely touch the ground.
I have known no one who would rely on a cloud.
Cirrus is rarely serious enough.
She spills icy tears and other sentimental stuff.
But Venus is lilies, roses and violets.
and Mars is lies, ruins and violence.
The wirey tight rope between is soaked in blood.
Cutting through souls caked with mud.
Mercury's net sits just beneath.
"Catch me, Catch me" Venus pleads.
"Earth is spinning much too fast" she says.
Get me off of this whirling mess.
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Tickle your toes. . .
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driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu... -
like me- it serves as a question as well as an appropriately foolish letter in bad company it only teams up with words like yodel, ...
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motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
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Under a blanket it was at high altitudes in love or nauseous? I once held his hand his touch was so soothing-but with a lion's face. and...
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nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
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Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
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and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
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confession is all: it is what my poetry is, and that is my life.
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it's not possible. I think the problem must be- too much love and hate.
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secret fancies don't really bother me, alright? but know that once you tell me I become either like a turtle and snap my smile...
Poets United Contributor
love that bit about Venus and Mars in the middle. clever! <3
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