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As I nestle into the curve of your neck,
I wonder about
in neat little rows
up and down
the rosy-pink earth
of your skin.
There they would blossom,
and springtime breezes
would ruffle the petals
behind your ear
and all along your collarbone
to whisper secrets
in the absence
of my lips.
My eyes flash open as if
blinking up to the surface of a pond, perforating
its frosted armor, gasping the air of daybreak
to make sure my blood didn’t freeze within my veins while I was submerged,
somewhat calmed to find it still capable of making its rounds
from my heart
to my head
to my fingertips
and so on.
I swirl my skewed diagonal of a spine along the mattress,
realigning it with my duvet that’s been startled
off to the side, dragging my dream-laden skull
over to the abandoned pillow,
and once again plummeting down
into my subconscious.
I won’t assault you, stranger,
with the details of my recurring dreams.
Not because I assume their intensity is too much for you,
they make sense to me.
To present them to you
would be a gift of myself
that I do not wish upon you at this time.
Suffice it to say
that they all tell the same true story
paint the same familiar landscape
and sing the same recognizable song,
yet always manage to disturb me anew.
For somehow, amidst my anxious reveries of kitten claws,
demon possession, and my teeth falling out,
clarity fragments itself into my spectrum of nonsense-visions
and I realize that even in my deepest wildest jungles,
no labyrinth of glossy leaves or tangled vines
can hide me from the tigers of reality.
A Poem for Valentine’s Day
I saw a pair of birds upon my way
to breakfast in the early morning light.
Their courtship dance of tiny flitting wings,
their chirping makes me wonder what they are:
instinctive creatures flying, somewhat blind?
Or could they be miraculous – a true
anomaly of bird in love with bird?
I marvel at the male in his pursuit,
for either way, his choice is clear. Perhaps
it’s just a crush, provoked by winter’s chill,
her sunlit tail a promise of the spring.
But maybe something special caught his eye –
her feathers or the way she spreads her wings –
to make him so determined, so agog.
A Welcome to You in Blank Verse
My other Tumblr “Clutter” has become
unfortunately named in that my own
creations now are getting lost amidst
reblogs of corgis, comics, fandom gifs,
and art I find inspiring. Therefore, this
new blog will be exclusively for all
my work that otherwise would be ignored.
I hope that you enjoy my poetry
and illustration or whatever else
I choose to post on this, my brand new blog!