that's mrs. mediocrity to you

watch time float by
on the whisper of living

breathe in blue sky
and never exhale

light the candle
of forgiveness
and forget to blow it out

speak the song
of the silenced
or rather, start to sing

watch a heron
kiss the water
in a solitude of sunshine

stand taller
than the mountain
you just climbed

ride the train of broken tears
that barrels down
each side

embrace the clouds
that hover close
to the places you last cried

.

give it all away

.

and watch time

float by

on the whisper

of living

…

the avenue where
you ate the last fish

as it held your lost stare
(contemplation’s false glare)

and the dark apple
current
pulling luck under

in the back row seat
of certainty’s corner

we fed our fill
on the silence of empty

and burnished long scars
still shiny with memory

until sky led to sea
in the bed that was always
losing its way

we reached for warm hands
over-stuffed
with the blind weight
of grief

grasping for sand

as it spilled down
clean sheets

and returned to the water

salt bled us

…

eating nothing

but these hours

that devour

and the

black hole distance

between full

and fortified

in the night sky

lost eye

feast

of raw

subsistence

…

scarred scared and disrepaired
the tagline of last soldiers
loss holders
heart boulders

we are the collection
of collectors
gathering bones and
burying stones

building cairns
in bare memory
corners

and backing away
ever so gently
despite the premise promise
of tumble
and tremor

. . .

these days
my time is turned
paying tribute
to lives lost
or never realized

dreams
a heart wove
as you
shoveled sand
into hourglass
of promise
and empty

all the while
pretending
not to notice
the mountain
you were melting

and mostly

it’s all just air

resting ripe in a bowl
far too damaged
for kintsugi

rift-silent and
hover proud

waiting

[still]

and open

always open

for repair

.

.

listen here

i’ve got all these pieces
shard sharp and jagged edged
heart blood dark
and silence hole

splayed across
this worn wood floor
tracing steps and trapped pretension
as it all rolls uphill
sideways

mirror mirror
pasted smile
fallen glimpses in the corner of reflection
shape shifting
loose oil carnage

and the dream I had
before
our room filled with smoke
my mind-body
shaking us both awake
certain there was fire

i still see the haze each midnight
floating right
above the quilt
i bought
to shelter the you
(or me)
i can never quite
remember

.

listen here:

stand tall in the light
of your own deliverance

bury nothing
but roots

grow rings
of truth

spin buds
of grace

and wait

time will spin
your story

into fresh green
dappled

shade

i revisit your funeral
in a dream filled with rooms

paint my face crackle-grey
and watch the pink of my tourmaline ring
wash away

every so often
i think i see you

still

every so often
you’re choosing a can of peas
or bringing the cat
you never had in for fleas

and as long as i don’t look

directly at you

i’m certain you’re

saying

i’m game

here we are again
balancing a sentiment
we will never name

none of us are free

we all come at great cost
to ourselves
to others
to this bold green earth

to those we love
and those we hate
to those
we cannot know

own yourself

pay the price of reflection
add loose change
to the plate of collection

pick up your actions
hold them high
look deeper

examine

have the good guts
to stare yourself
in the eye

have the true grace
to accept
all consequences

own yourself

none of us
are free