Disorient

My tummys’ got avocado grass
and applejuice skies
with clouds of gin.

My minds’ got fog
a bench long worn down
and a game I can’t win.

If you’re not a betting person
why you bet on this-
my sick disorientation.

The weather will change
wind, rain, snow and sun,

all inside this creation.

Easy Effort

“Can you wind message me?”
he asked, with pre-drip eyes.
I was leaving, he knew
at the next sunrise.

I smiled so softly
even teddy bears would be proud,
as I blundered on a “yes “,
a “for sure “; to him this I vowed.

And so I would kiss the air
every evening and day,
wipe my miss tears on feathers
“I love you “ I‘d say.

What consolation,
to have the leaves wiggle back,
a grin on my cheekbones,
two feet on one track.

It wasn’t long after,
when the journey was done,
he smiled a thank you
“for the whispers “ dear Mom.

Sunner

Sun blows itself onto my hair strands,
I am peace and I am wild.
Goose me more rays and I’ll pull down the whole sun. Just to feel that glow so easily won.

It’s Aboat Time

I got royal in my ships
and cute spiders in my sails.
I don’t need a bucket list
when I have a hundred pails.

How many does it take,
to add water back to sea?
I’m not sinking just yet,
but I think I wanna be.

Your Platinum Maneuvers

To hold my head
under water running,
to teach me that to strain against flow

is the watered down epitome

of self destruct.
Self sabotage.
Self infliction.

Non Fuzz Carpet

Songs, hawks, sunshine.
It’s bringing me whacky,
on a platter of fine china, the gold
a little tacky.
Sticky to my fingers, as I crack them
over raw eggs, sizzling
in their bubbling form,
threatening to lift off pan
and be magic carpet of yolk and white.

A Sure(d) Stay

When I have a heavy heart
I don’t feel fat or off the scale.
I feel my blood veins disjointed
And dragon sadness of a tail.

A heart with weight,
can also mean pure and full
Like explosion works of fire,
that create the half that makes the whole.

And if my heart is solid,
like that soulfire around your way,
I know we will be complete
before we start our stay.

Rise to Wake

Crisp and warm,
all in the earths bundle of a
Sunday morning.

Rises like these,
I remember waking to
church frills and curled hair.

Now as adult, I sit on gravel
country road
drinking in the suns bed head growl.

The geese sound their way
through open, clear sky.
I am pine, spruce and fresh air.
I am awake.

Wisdom Chews

My hair smells like bacon
and my ice has turned to water.
I’m fishing in my mind for a bite,
but all I can feel is that the sun is getting hotter.

And get this,
it is night.

My pants are all getting tighter on me,
wish my grip on life was.

I’ll get out of this.

And I will not run with it,
I will walk it into it’s place.

I will run with freedom.
And I will carry nothing but
my own weight.

There are comedians,
are there life analysts that joke about the mundane and the reality of life?

Or
are those two the same things?

I’ll be fine.
I know I am.
Sometimes I create the tornado so that I can spin out of it
clear headed.
As if all the cobwebs and gunk,
spun in control
to my own spin.

And then I ballarina away
on my tippy toes.

I’m closer to the sky that way
don’tchuu know?

Words and Love

How do you leave something you love?
What about someone?
They are still nouns I suppose.
But a cave isn’t the same as a person
no matter how deep they can both be.
They are both nouns.
But one makes you feel more then the other.
Is that the difference?
It must be.
But maybe that’s just the adjectives talking to my noun heart
and making me feel adverbly a lot like a simile.