poetry ~

18 Friday Jun 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

kiss, life, love, memory, poetry, surrender, touch, words, writing in the dark

the truth
is written somewhere
tucked amid the rhyme
memories –
watered down by time

the ease
of barely touching
skin erasing skin –
a tender kiss
remembers me
again

whatever this surrender
tis a life
I put behind –
purple fields
and poetry
swimming in your eyes

sometimes
I wake
within a dream
within the dream we made –
searching in the dark
to find a page

. . .

mantra ~

16 Wednesday Jun 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, verse

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

breath, calm, heart, life, love, solace, soul, storm, surrender, what I do, writing in the dark

save a place
between the pages
a spot where I might lie
a pillow for my rest
your heart
pressed against my thunder
heals a bitter storm
save a place
make a place
wherever you are home
remember only this
was all I needed
all I was
a place
a sweet embrace
against your calm

. . .

who for love ~

15 Tuesday Jun 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

adventure, courage, destined, home, life, love, maps, memory, red roads, travel, trust, truth

burden me
with places –
make of me a map
clear the dishes
write to me
your plans
tell me of your wanting
and who for love
will go
into the dark
beyond the break of green
fold me to your pocket
make of me
a sign
let me be
the only truth
you know

. . .

even now ~

10 Thursday Jun 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, verse

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

all we've known to love, close enough to touch, essence, life, memory, spirit home, story

in a far away place
where story began –
at the mention
of somebody’s name
with the turn of a smile
the wink of an eye
marbles rolled
from my hands
a life started over
as break from the fall
where now
even now
they say grace –
a stifled amen was for
memories made
fates written over
by destiny’s plight
touch
where memory
ends

. . .

horizons ~

09 Wednesday Jun 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, verse

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

blessings, grace, home, life, love, moments, morning, spirit, time, touch, truth

morning
comes slow
anxious the dawn
as light
pouring touch
from the night
how can I know
what ghosts
linger there –
distant horizons
await my retreat
a place where light
has no memory
of time –
a pause between kisses
as breath before
dawn

. . .

untethered ~

08 Tuesday Jun 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

life, love, memory, sometimes, witness, writing in the dark

were not for words
would you remember me here
fashioned in lines
of surrender

would you know
how it feels
when sunlight is burned
and curtains fall
from my windows

I see you
I know you –
how sweet this refrain
of birth without knowing
how far
I have come

from a day like no other
splinters of light
are pooled into places
we carry the same

moments
I dare not to speak

. . .

caught between ~

28 Friday May 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

grace, life, love, memory, poetry, returning home, rhyme, time, words

when echoes
are the only proof
of words
we said that day –
a blush returned
with mention of your name
how many times
the pull of lines
have made for you a bed
a place where you might linger
as every note
is read

I’ve given rhyme
a bit of time –
and still
I find you there
caught between
a poem
and a prayer
a weight of verse
your touch – a place
committed to a page –
returned whene’er
I reach for you
again

. . .

retreated ~

26 Wednesday May 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

all I know, breath, grace, life, memory, nothing changes, spirit, truth

in places
you’ve forgotten
I exist as e’er I was
as a moment spared
a longing shared
life retreated
giving
nothing
in spaces
you’ve forgotten
I remember you
so well

. . .

enough to tell ~

26 Wednesday May 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

connection, life, love, memory, mystery, soul, spirit

i was never here
where anyone would see
how the sun
became my words
became my skin –
midnight was my pulse
never far
from being found
tho near enough
near enough to hear –
where a practiced word
might fall –
and I beside
who can say
where i was
when you remembered
all i was
how it felt
to lose
a memory
. . .