Category Archives: free verse

culminating moments

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Sometimes the best place to be is inside the mind of a writer,
as an undeveloped character just observing the story as it erupts.

Sometimes the best place to be is on a field, just ahead
of a brewing thunderstorm, feeling the wind as it sweeps the grasses.

Other times it is best to be there when the rain is stopping
and the sound of thunder -far-away- rumbles on an unseen field.

Sometimes to lie on a field, and watch the stars appear.
At times, to wake in the night, and hear the silence
as it lulls you back to sleep.

Then sometimes, when the sun-rays fan between houses
capturing the morning in a blooming progression, it is best to be there.

Sometimes it is best to be the pivotal word in a sentence
from your love, her inflection and enunciation drawing a painting of the next moment,

where it is best to be.

assent

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the rain crept in
at night –
these are stranger puddles,
reflecting
the morning brume, battering
the ground with purpose
and the beginnings of a day.

***

the sky
as it divulges
a mood, bathed in muted temperament,
each second brings a new
brilliance,
as seen by
its reflection
in pools of water.

***

in the guise of a bond,
that which comes down
must return
and a kinship is embraced
and eminence reflected.

bold

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in truth,
held between the point
and paper,
-all writing is captive.
No matter
its color in light
or softness of skin,
whether veiled by chiffon or lace
or by shadows covering your face,
this bathes and penetrates
the pages in.
And here I, the author,
have placed myself
on this adjoining space-
and if desired and allowed,
(if nothing else be true)
I’ll awaken in some verse
absorbed in text
or presuming scrawl,
in a moment
next to you.

fatigue

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Setting upon her
-weariness –
while watching the boughs
droop,
the strain
measured in accented calls
bent to her will.
Along with this
a litany of swells
and shoots,
each one a memento
entangled with blooms.

But, I have no such reminder-
as the words I choose
murmur and drone
like florets
worn down by the rain,
both exhausted
and sustained
among the leaves,
smeared in abstract.

duet

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it is not among

their repertoire – blithely sung lyrics

in their intercourse – yet undeniably

the intrusion of words

breaks a pliable barrier

that has become

contrapuntal – similar in a fashion

and built upon

the tacit crescendos.

********************************

I was thinking this morning about the power of the “unspoken”, which can be an essential part of communication between two people -as much as the words even – in some circumstances.  There can be an energy to that seemingly empty space that is unrivaled.  This poem seeks to describe that.  Thanks for visiting.

streams

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the lamp shade
is colored with a depth
of incandescence,
the way a face
shows
a heart, flushed
and swelling
with crescendo –
a glimmering crest
crowning the moment.

************************
Some stream of consciousness writing this morning…I had nothing on my mind as I sat down to write. I looked up from the computer and saw the light 😉

Who doesn’t like it when something nice just appears out of nowhere?

My writing output has slowed of late, due to work, family obligations, and life in general. I always feel a little better when I can craft a thought, a vision, or a feeling in a poem. It is like my heart shakes off a bit of the coldness that can creep in. Saturdays are good mornings for that. I’m grateful. Thanks for visiting.

indulgent

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interior to the moment
where we mingled our words,
every other one articulated
disparate pretenses
though thought bound-
to increment and comply
with the next,
leading onward
in the clutches
and parlance of consummation
to a synchronous
indulgence.

*************************
I know the words here are a bit “overzealous,” though as I’ve mentioned before here…I like the sounds that words make. So indulge my vocabulary and just listen to the sounds. Thanks for visiting.

lift

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in the hollows
and meadows
you call me with the thrushing
of pine needles to inspire

to climb
and place my steps
on familiar ground
pulsating with desire.

bring me closer
to a shared ascent-
where your words, once nestled
in the horizon, peek out
among the clover and the briar.

and we hold each other in the glow
of sunset’s flushed attire.