Comes a Gentle Winter Rain

I often wonder why I still carry the thought of you

You’ve been away from me

Far longer than you’ve been near

I am mending pieces

The unseen ones

Thousand unintentional shards of fallen potential

I must be an island

Felled upon an ocean

Thousand suffocating waves of unspoken words

I often wonder the why of it

The ache of it all

Sipping bittersweet tea

The quietness of winter rain

Poetry of M 2024

an ageless thing…

we spoke of age
and its
inconsistent
measure
young
old
truely I believe you 
it doesn’t matter
it is such an ageless thing
a concept only formed to fit 
the rule-makers design
oft in the mind of the 
passionless and disenchated
I, having been one
my own victim 
to my own murderess ways
minimizing my potency
I lost my way for a long while
yet I’m awakened
ageless
finding my way back to me

There once was a man…
who wanted me

redress me…

what are they anyway 
what good have these words brought 
except to bring such sweet torture 
honey drips from my womb
deliverance is silky as each syllable 
should slip across your tongue 
and redress my unworshipped altar 
I ask you; what you have engraved
upon with piercing eyes 
a color once unknown soaking deep 
into my bloodstream 
in this you have shaken me 
should you come awaken my lips
if ever they fall silently
these hours of knitted words
tethered and bound to my soul
will settle in your marrow
and wonder no longer
of missing home

in the morning my waterfall falls…

how is that on my day off
I wake up and not want to write
is it apathy, indifference 
maybe just uninspired
my muse sleeping
my love tucked away
my passion idle
I feel the neglect in my gut
as if I could abandon my pen
crawl back into old skin
put on that old facade of
Kansas plain
lackluster pallor 
winter pale
even christmas
seems determined dull
my mind was bended yesterday
full of contemplation 
my body too
desire aching 
evidence of scented sensuality 
and an obedience satisfied
pleasing to someone
to me
the sun is coloring me
changing the dark shadowed walls
of my grey room
warming up hope
for today
I know I will love
do love 
it spreads across these pages
these little 
scripted confessions
and poetry
of times & places
of people & secrets 
I love my vulnerability
it feels like 
I could type out the remains
of all my shards
my mosaic
ever progressing 
I don’t want to finish it in this life
Let me come back again
again & again
again a thousand times
carrying midnight & dawn
so he finds me
intimate in his solitude
whispered in his darkness
lovely in the newness
of  every spectrum of light
…and as I begin to flow 
let loose my waterfall
my layers are opening 
and how my voice
my words
my pen
are found again
never can they
lay empty 
long

is there a way out…

once upon a sleeper…

you opened my cocooned pod
I felt the ice melting
from my cryogenic sleep
raising my beats
from shunned to shine
I began to upcycle wasted tears
eyelashes coated with stardust 
I braved the idea of possibilites
conquered a black diamond run
one turn at time
I was felled darling
with black dove wings
trying to reach peace
atop your sky…

I don’t know now 
where you are…

spilling sunlight…

Silence 
in the 
spilling 
of sunlight
stirs 
another death…

another

another

when you are hurt…

Run away sadness 
      bruised; deep deeper deeply dark

the heart never forgets

I have forgotten…

I have forgotten this thing
this thing called breathing
what it’s like to lay
effortless
easy
unaware 
unaffected…

I have fogotten this thing
this thing called comfort 
what its like to be wrapped
safely tucked in
warm
weatherproofed
protected…

I have forgotten this thing
this thing called forgetting
forgetting to forget
your color
your beauty
your reflection
sound of every word you’ve written…

I have forgotten this thing
this thing called L (cursor blinking)

no! I haven’t forgotten
*erases that line

I don’t know this thing
this thing called

…LOVE…

unattainable…