Category Archives: Art

Warmth

If it gets much keener

I will sync into the brilliance of heart-thought

layered in pink folds of tender softness

My crimes of glory

of glee

of gladness

are consumed inside the blanket

its softness upon my lap

 

With Snow White wrap

I cover myself in

with the wind

 

In the snow

at night

when I’m playing

I am praying

 

When I’m lying

soft peaks are rising

in the stillness of almost sleep

I feel the arms of the hearts of my loved ones inside this lamb-like skin

this fleece cap of free-flowing thought

I am the wind as it whispers through the leaves

 

So please these leaves

the river steals them but to us they cleave

They do not burn

they do not gather

They are trod upon with snow and rain and the feet of man

but they exist always in the soil

Let’s bring them back to life

for in the blooms they shall not spoil.

Here and Gone

The Beautifuls

You helped them leap into hearts!

Lover of the beloveds

they all class this place

Making us seem evolved

We got to be lovely

I’ll play something…

they can hear in their DREAMS!

Roy played

we talked

I cried

Resident said

I talk to your mother all the time…

Don’t do anything to hurt yourself

My idealized dream mind

imagined she saw

or knew

or connected to the realms

on the inside

It was a marvelous bit of synchronicity

Silent Sender of Light

 

037

 

I enjoy being a silent sender of light.

 

I didn’t know how to do that when I was young

on grey days

when the isolation closed in

with low energy

and old papers

 

Piles of old newspapers

with crosswords and Ann Landers

black and white comics

sports scores

 

I guess that my steps out of a book

were close enough

I practiced

what we pretended

 

I don’t want to get to close to the old days

Boredom

Imagination —

When I see someone doing ALL that

for real

It amazes me how they look like Angels!

Love, Translated

Betty Sue Dancing on a Dream

Joy is in knowing

We are a process evolving

My heart is a hearth

extending itself into the source of your fire

You translate my love

into a language that can safely

be spoken

 

This is not just a token

act on your part

consciousness aside

you embody me

I rest in you

You play me

 

They love you

Betty Sue

God and I sing a song

through you

 

Suffering Angel

The word violin

wrapped up in her name

as within a cocoon

Silk

She could tell you her life’s story

and make it sound

so painfully raw

you wanted to inhabit it

to feel her talent in your veins

She knew Lenny

well enough

to call him that

and played under his

conduction

like a bee

following a bat

Her stinging lack of diplomacy

telling me

“You’ll never play like that”

She was a gorgeous

sufferer