wabi-sabi - beauty in imperfection

My words were but a litter of letters all tiny timid and trembling

Yearning to be coaxed out of hiding and nuzzled 

Safe and seen in the silence 

They wriggle and purr

Entertaining possibilities once unsaid now

Running wild around the room

I want to play with them

Our glaring truths

Unfold 

Secret tails

Acrostic poem based on today's final prompt 

OctPoWriMo 2017 Day 31

Image Courtesy of The IPKat 

my garden grows
 the very best 
of intentions
all lined up 
along the road to hell

Lust and dust
mix and mingle
in the histories

I lurk
like the spider stalking
a fly carcass 
crackling on the web
waiting watching wanting 

to remain ignorant
savor trust
like salted caramel
melting on my tongue

or to take the bait
 and bite down
hard
on the truth

This knowing fruit

sours
the soup
stiffens
scum into skin

on the surface
I see the face 
of broken promises
in the grey pucker


OctPoWriMo 2017 Day 30

Photo Credit: Andrey Bobir https://www.artstation.com/andrey_bobir

Out of the black
bodies
emerge
into light
then
retreat
as the strings and wind 
wind around
our view
into this place

blind
connections
rushing
towards
the edge

so close
you can hear 
the heavy
hungry gasp
holding on to each moment
as if it were the last
chance
to breathe

OctPoWriMo 2017 Day 29

Image credit:  Jahna Frantziskonis and Max Cauthorn in Scarlett’s Fearful Symmetries.

© Erik Tomasson

That place
where the rug
or in my case
the road
is pulled out
from under
foot

where I wander
wondering
if I should do something
anything
different

train
write
work
race
love

How much do I give
before I give
up
out
of the blue
landing
on the sidewalk
again
not knowing
how or why

I rest
resistance
on the curb

and pick 
myself
up
and
move
on

OctPoWriMo 2017 Day 28

Sweet Spring blossoms free

in my grandmother's garden

the precious common

OctPoWriMo 2017 Day 27

I was eight
when I started sleepwalking
through life
though it was more 
a crossing over 
my body
my mind
would run wild circles
dreams
on display
for everyone to see

Doctor prescribed
the hot sweet cinnamon
a nightly shot
to calm
my mother's nerves 
and keep me still
under the sheets
spiders scampering 
on the ceiling
they would crawl down
and nest 
in my gaping mouth

When I woke next
I was 22
riding the green dragon
 tendrils of smoke wafting around my head
running wild circles
around the rubble
of what was
my world
now shaken
down
to the foundation

I found my soul
in a palette 
of Viridian
and raw umber light
my skin
a cremnitz white

I  stippled
brushed
and
knived
slices
through
torrent
thoughts
stirring
up
the urge to bang the bongo
and howl
at the harvest moon

I was 25
when they took me
down
the echoing 
lithium hallways

I slowed
and swelled
as the plaster of my life
dampened

my colors
now
cut and dried
flading
flaking

forgotten

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 26

Skull with Burning Cigarette - Vincent Van Gogh

Image Credit: Reddit Cinemagraphs

* Based loosenly on a work of fiction in progress - Van Gogh Latte.

Words
they sustain me
define me
contain me
surround me
and I am always
craving more


 words
while walking the Seine
in the shortgrey days
while passing the time staring at passersby
the warm detachment of a rustic red
wrapped around me
a woolen red scarf
while sitting before you
you between my legs
the buttersoft leather
on my bare breasts

these taste of the deep unctous
chocolate of me
it pools under
my tongue
and
lingers
long
after I swallow

words
while hurling a life
once shared
into garbage bags
into the ramshakled rusted
notion of what could have been
but would never be

these taste of the acrid scald
of bile and spoilt milk
it burns
coming out
going in
heaving
spilling
regret
I was told not to cry over

words
sung to me
while in the shower
you leaned into me
and spoke
breathless
lyrics
into my mouth
I drank these down
not noticing
the water
running
cold

These taste of mango
and angel cake
I lick
my lips
forever
wanting
more

words

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 25

We walked the streets

of Florence

in the biting breezes

of a new year

still cutting her teeth

I followed you

through passage

and cobbled histories

along long lingering loyalties

bridging

between 

boyfriend

and

friend

both twice removed

We 

danced

until dawn

stretched through 

the piazza

with a yawn

of light

Stumbling into

your one room

your one bed

your one question

Could I 

keep

it

this scorching darkness

between us

just us

My answer

strong and spirited

like the Caffè corretto

slowly sipped

the morning after

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 24

Photo Credit: Jennifer Astramowicz  "La Vita es un carnival"

Love

itches

my skin

my arms 

are blooming

age spots

along

the scars

from years 

of trying to find

comfort

beneath

the surface

nothing 

left

but

a faint white

line

the remains 

of dragging the bow

between

the strings

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 23

*Image Credit: http://www.tattoolove.org

Swinging
back and forth
thoughts
and
songs
on repeat

my first ballet
toehead in a tutu
touching the top
of my head
with my toes

Sapphire needle dreams
pirouetting
33 ¹⁄₃ rpm
around my penché perfect six year old world

My lifelong friends
Chopin, Tchaikovsky and Bach
keep me 
good company

We met once
 in Paris
for a clandestine
rehearsal
my breath halted
my heart
flic-flacs
in time with
the rosin dusted 
pointe
of view

In my other life
my six foot self
stood en pointe
at center stage
performing
a pas de deux 
with one who would 
support me
lift me
catch me

This life
is about
box seats
and bubbles
and
Parlor pas de bourrée couru

I am at best 
a living room ballerina

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 22

Photograph By Scott Martinez 

The Gamine
she serves no salmon
just lonely thoughts
swimming upstream
to my heart space
Will they spawn
inspiration
or will they settle
into sediment
for bottom feeders
to grow on

Words are tight
remaining coiled
curled under
my daily life
grind
unto a hopeful
reach
I need to stretch

across the page

A half pour
is a good thing
but now
at the bottom
of the glass
the page
I ache with want

Self Control
a bone honed
skill
to belay
my fall

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 21

So

Haunting

the memories 

of wanting

you

I still feel

the twinge tingling

the fluttering beat

the rung out

core of my being

desperate

for you

You stared 

back at me

as if you knew my thoughts

your plump plum lips

ripe for the tasting

Your words

an invitation 

unanswered

Your hand

rough and warm

offered to me

as proof

My fingertips

would graze over

until 

they entwined

with yours

holding

still

holding

back

holding the secret

for just a moment longer

Oh how I was filled

to my edges

my walls

swelled

with want

for you

I am

helpless

here

there is no washing away

the  eager evidence

of my longing

Longing clings like ashes

after the rain

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 20

Skulking

about

Fox News

twists their tales

They whine and Bark

their agenda

and

piss on trees

The leash

lands

hard
in the hole

and assumes

the position

defending its claim

Watching us

dance again

just in  4
4 time

as

the III 

looms

large

we foxtrot 

around the hurdles

quickstep

the

catch

Wonder

Perhaps it is 

finally

time

for

crafty action

end the orange seige

with the tempered touch 

of

a lady's glove

Perhaps then

we will be safe

in our deep knowing den

The Earth

can be trusted

The Earth

takes all secrets

to the grave

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 19

““It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye”. The Fox, Le Petit Prince – Antoine de Saint Exupery

*A group of foxes is referred to as a skulk, leash, or earth.^[3][4]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fox

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 18

Revised version.  

Original version

And the dragon chose

the first words

with eager hesitation

and wonder

his

flickering flame 

licked

the space

wide open

where

tingle chill

nipping breeze

seeped in

under the glass pane

Will we

wander off

where words

wild and wicked

arc and soar

surface

and 

swirl

like  dragon smoke

On to the page

His choice

He insists

is only

An invitation

to fly

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 17

Image :A Black Dragon writing at a Podium Credit: http://www.flux.utah.edu/~aclement/templair/collection/

My dark hours
are twisted
around
the realization
that I am
bound
to where I am
where I have been
and where I want to be

My limbs
constrained
restrained to the dread

I am off balance
falling
often
towards
the hard
conclusion
that things are not in alignment

Falls and fallings out
find me

I do not want
to seek
familiar
suffering
surging in
on the shadows

I wear a cloak
morbid
and
heavy
slung
low
across my shoulders
as though
I am both
the betrayer
and
the exposed

Here
fear
knows
my name

So
I turn
tales
and
run
word
wild
the
other
way
all
the
way
back
to
myself

 I am
pulled
by the deep moss
green intentions
and soft hope
under my feet

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 16

Photo Courtesy of Julianne Kanzaki

my reaching arms

ache

as

if

they

were

a 

callow

branch

bent

back

and 

forth

until 

frayed

but

not

broken

my reaching heart

aches

as 

if

it

were

once

cupped

gently

in
warm

hope

and

abruptly

dropped

to 

the
cold

linoleum

floor

and

forgotten

Still strong

Still beating

Still loving

I remain unbroken


OctPoWriMo 17 Day 15