midnight garden gifts
four leaf clover for her hair
fireflies follow
clover: a haiku
Category: Poems
train rides
hitchhiking to these, my forgotten spaces
thumbs up to the clouds waiting for the train to catch that wind
the bell tolls silently so to those who listen
to those with no fear of letting go
i cradle my bag, my makeshift courage kit
to wander now needlessly to where the leaves blow, where they seem i shall fit
always the backseat traveler i still shan’t take the helm
for it not my eyes that lead, but my heart that swells
i follow where it takes me, perhaps to dead end roads
pulling out my kit with compass to direct me as best it knows
ye of little faith, the reclusive voice no more
for those journeys once forgotten i now ready the score
days absent of sunlight, of curtains drawn
now places me on this train, piercing through dusty windows all those what ifs now gone
Iris– U2
I photographed this image along the Blue Ridge Parkway, Milepost 34. I categorized it within my abandoned photography as what you see here is the remnants of an old logging railroad. Although it is abandoned it is not forgotten and is visited quite frequently among hikers and travelers alike and offers a serene, picturesque moment to step back in time. Thank you for reading. For more of my nature and abandoned photography please visit my gallery here.
Listen to me read Train Rides
tug: a haiku
she wears the whispers
a playful tug among days
a dance of refuge
Daffodils by William Wordsworth: A Spoken Word Poem
William Wordsworth was an English romantic poet who helped launch the Romantic Age in English literature. His piece, Daffodils also known as I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud, is a piece I adore. Won’t you go on the journey with me a I read, The Daffodils.
lean: a haiku
lazy eyes find rise
forests of dandelions
in a lean to you
haunted
there is this haunting in me
chasing the grain of rhapsody
in midnight swells of ardor
beseeching to the stars to lay hold of my shadow
longing for a taste of your burn again
there is this haunting in me
waning with the young moon
beneath a wild vermouth,
spilt from uninspired lips
in crescent fall
longing to breathe you in again
there is this haunting in me
floating in the velvet dust of night
my spirit aloft far longer than odysseus
with wings a flutter, unrelenting
wistful for the fertile kiss of earth
longing to be whole in you again
there is this haunting in me
among days of translucent gravity
weighted to this diaphanous storm
thundering in a ghostly compass
yet a voice remains
echoing there
high above the ancients dressed in their robes of green
saturating the roof of a tin heart
just wanting to find my love again
Lullaby-Enzalla
just breathe
Listen to me read Haunted
cloak: a haiku
fog, in milky waves
confuse thine eyes with stillness
cloak the weary days
lotus
in daily baths of melancholy
with no grand speed ascending
from caverns carved by nature’s creed
through muddy morsels a fairy born
a blushing pixie to the moon
a darkened path, unlikely guide
slow steps from its cocoon
unfurling petals as moon gods sing
the song of its mythical fate
to reach beyond those shallow graves
to cloudscapes in patient wait
Listen to me read Lotus
Journey’s End -Blackmill
During a visit to a botanical garden in North Carolina, I captured this image upon realizing that I had never seen a lotus flower in its habitat. I was mesmerized by this pond brimming with them and found myself after thirty minutes or so feet planted in the same position, daydreaming. These delicate beauties are born with magic and it floats to the surface with them. The aura of tranquility they emit for those that take the time to truly see their beauty and the resilience of their survival, simply put, is breathtaking.
To view more of my photography you may visit my Instagram page here.
sanctum
beneath our tree
where my lungs come back to me
for it is there
among borrowed ears
the cadence of you,
of i
falls freely
beneath blooming arms, those towering magic wands
those leaves, an artistic blend of hues
lent by the color of our words
birthed from our woes, our joys
now drip dropping in tiny doses
a repertoire of moments
gifts caressed from our swollen lips
beneath this our found sanctum
a secret place, a perfect hiding spot
where treasured scribing
and whispers in the wind
hold a love affair in soft reverie
infused within the veins of its hollow
beyond distances they traveled
weathered testaments of time
reaching for the sun
how they glow
how it flows
upwards
outwards
reflecting within
beneath our tree
where my lungs come back to me
Listen to me read Sanctum
queen of the shades
minnows wading beneath
the dance of the trees
lending a choir to the air as earthen creatures stir
but to catch a glimpse of she
their maiden of the shade, their spring breathing persephone
a narcissus sips from a nymph filled river bed
unable to resist the breath of its perfume,
she bows as its smile upon her spread
one selfish delight, she thought, to adorn her hair
reaching for its heavenly invitation, clutching its core,
but the earth it trembled, a prelude to a darkening lair
a stallion then arose, with rider crowned in shade
his moon-fed eyes reaching for her own
spilling of promise to immortal blooms
of a forest braided, never to fade
longing for the wonder, unafraid of what the gods would cast down
she took his hand, this god of the underworld
and became his queen, in shaded crown
in their descent, winter took hold
til this maiden, now queen of the shades returned in season anew
giving her breath to the forest turning it back to its gold
Emancipator/Natural Cause
-just breathe-
Listen to me read Queen of the Shades
