denied ~

05 Tuesday Feb 2013

Tags

becoming, bliss, dreams, grace, gravel roads, life, love, memory, nature, passion, postmark, reason, restless, spirit, struggle, truth, wandering

reason grows in patches
nested disarray
when bent to light
becomes misunderstood

for nights
denied the waking
a lover’s hands
to dream –
midnight folded round us
in the dark

of summers
were there e’er enough
to make up for the chill
breezes unrelenting
still they ache

. . .

sway ~

03 Sunday Feb 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

cherokee, connection, family, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, reason, restless, spirit, strength, understanding, wandering, wisdom, wonder

wet leaves
scattered –
friend to foe
lunas into sorrows
flaming as the scarlet
black –
nature’s cabaret
silken souls
defend their woes
martyrs of the moon
whisper of the lying nights
nestled us between

cold beneath
the dapple light
spun amid the shadows
was come of love
when spring remembered fall
roses crushed to memory
– scents I used to wear
pressed into my hem –
a garden gate

cocked the head
of ravens –
ancient mercies
home to roost
with pieces wound
of juniper and jade –
silver voices rise
into the chilly mountain air
opal eyes reflecting
us as truth

. . .

the last hello ~

03 Sunday Feb 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

bliss, breath, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, love, moments, passion, postmark, reason, restless, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, woman, wonder

between the passing
month to month
may to january
were moments
kept to heaven –
by the way I said your name
the same as wild blueberry
muscadine
and peach –
cut my tongue on briar
burrs to skin

the last hello
unnoticed
thought there’d be one more
or two –
left the door unlocked
the windows bare
fashioned me
a favored key –
and hung it round your heart
kissed the place
of lullabyes
nonstop

of mystic ways
I held no sway –
knew not of the seasons
or whether love
could live beyond this dream
remembered as a whisp
of smoke
floated blue above us
strings to tie forever
to my soul

. . .

ways by which we came ~

02 Saturday Feb 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, death, destiny, fearless, forgiveness, grace, life, living, love, nature, passion, reason, restless, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, wandering, wonder

were consequence
our one defense –
for ways by which we came
into the revelation
of our will

sing of me
when rivers fret –
your final journey home
were there my name –
in silence lingers
still

forgiven this
surrender –
to another truth I seek
glowed beyond the restlessness
of night –

carved me by the willow
into the evergreen
forsaken not the message
of your light

sit me down
in blossoms –
the color of your song
and wrestle me
to life within your lead

lay me bare
to lessons –
of living to discern
as sweet
the fall of berries
crushed by need

. . .

this time ~

02 Saturday Feb 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

bliss, breath, destiny, dreams, fearless, grace, life, living, love, memory, old maps, passion, relationship, restless, spirit, strength, understanding, wandering, wisdom

were curses
to brush
my feelings away
as splinters
pushed deep in my soul
worn as a callus
of promise to numb –
were moments of heaven
I know

forty years more
than my mama was young
chosen for choosing
this time
broken down places
wink in the sun
a shimmering ghost
left behind

longing we planted
in clover and moss –
weighted to pockets
of stone
forgotten our fate
as candles died out
– habits held close
not for long

. . .

destiny weaved ~

01 Friday Feb 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

bliss, connection, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, knowledge, life, love, nature, passion, reason, relationship, restless, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wandering, wonder

winter remembers
the curve of the tempter
longing decided
by locust and rain
destiny weaved
a honeybee’s locket
carpenters curse
neath a mountain of leaves

shifted and shy
the humble to pace ~
get us to bed
and turn not away
lover make haste
for seasons gone by
and I without sword
but provision
to fly

further each time
from the memory of home ~
faint as the serpent
pulled clean
through the yard
was carved into hunter
by each
tender blade

the slip ~

31 Thursday Jan 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

becoming, fearless, grace, gravel roads, kentucky, life, love, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, restless, spirit, strength, truth, value, wisdom

folded starch of linen
to hide a jagged state –
tho tattered lace
and denim
more my style

senseless
my pretention
the effort made to be
whate’er it was –
the slip
to make you fall

words remain –
reminders
of another me (just fine)
essence born
of burning leaves
chamomile
and rhyme

. . .

goats and three ~

30 Wednesday Jan 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

becoming, destiny, dreams, fairytale, faith, family, fearless, folklore, gravel roads, life, love, old maps, passion, postmark, restless, spirit, strength, wandering, wonder, writing

to stories
I’m a stranger –
to the ways of getting in
could never cut the vines
or burn the braids –
would sail
and never wonder
why the river took you back –
polished me to legions
down below

of fairytales
a few or more –
they hardly speak of now
how goats and three
they courted me
on southern nights
somewhere
camped beneath
the bridges
when reached to find you
here
saved the night
one frosty new year’s eve

gathered now
the early show –
open hearts and willing
to understand
the leaving you alone
could never see
the mystery – eyes your shade
of blue
mercury resolved
to more than mars

who is left
to pass us on –
from cradle to the current
kaleidescope
and no one knows we’re gone
a lifetime more
than when the telling
started –
truth I’ve known
some days I scarce recall

the oldest goat
your tender touch –
rocks within the wall
and how the map was folded
on the seat
fairytales
to wonder me –
what of love is carried –
dare I cut the vines
and burn my hair

. . .

pristine ~

29 Tuesday Jan 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

becoming, breath, connection, consequence, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, life, love, old maps, passion, postmark, restless, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wandering, wonder

slow not my heart
in the shade of forsaken
to gather as dust
in yesterday’s war –
left in a room
with pictures and promise
piano nobody plays

save not my name
for sunday night vigils
or prayers at the end –
(at the end)
of your day
take not these eyes
as sweet consolation –
for others
here passing
in life unafraid

seal not these lips
with burdens of silence
or kisses
ten thousand
reserved
know of these lands
sleep in these pastures –
but guard not the longing
(to rise)
from your soul

spare not remission
for moments revealed
as poured from the deep –
(let it flow)
spare not excuses
for some errant life
or linger the night
letting go

breathe not a word
of the story unfolding –
yet slow not my heart
in your shade

. . .

another ~

28 Monday Jan 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

awakening, becoming, breath, connection, death, destiny, dreams, faith, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, reason, restless, self, soul, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom

if I were born
another place –
and never heard your name
or memorized the music
of your voice
would the night arrive
unnoticed
as wings above the pines
would I leave my prayers
for coming back
behind

if I were loved
some other way –
and stayed my will to know
of lessons almost ended
by my days
would lips be sealed
and not for one –
remembered as a kiss
buried with the memory
of refrain

if I were here
some other day –
familiar comprehension
as words to scatter
ashes to the wind
the failsafe of forever
eternity begins
within a dream
another fragile death

folded to a locket
buried with my sins –
reminders fall
around me
in the dark
verses haunt the pages
wherein another waits
held against a name
I dare not say

. . .