http://lovelydreamingfoxes.tumblr.com/

Belletristic Blathering & Trash Poetry -
Phosphorimental is just a placemat for
the dribblings and crumbs of creativity.
Keep an eye on www.good-graffiti.com and www.trashpoetry.com

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

worthy to love

When you know yourself – I mean truly know
the bone and sinew holding you upright in the mirror. 

From felted creases along folded chits of memory
to the dogeared pages of emotional reminders –

when your margins are filled with faded scribbling...
when you know what ails you

and you stop selling it as fodder for attention...
then, you learn to be loved.

Prodigal lovers sweep in like gales
Fraying the tips of each others sails.

These careless wave runners of contraband
Capsize and drown as a woman and man.

Love travels deep in the hulls of a human
yet we are unseaworthy vessels
for such precious cargo.

Tend to the cracks in the architecture
Of bridges that it starts to stir

Be the splash when the glaciers calve
and plummet into the surf.

Love me like you're the lost puzzle piece in my identity. 
What we are unable to discover within ourselves,
we find in the love of another...

Moan with self awareness, crumple into mass  
Fold and melt into flowing glass.

Tie into braids of confluent streams

And cool into crystals of adamantine.

Untitled - Unfinished



Untitled / Unfinished

I chanced to meet a ghost writer at my door,
her transportation failed just down the road
A sojourning doppelganger of sorts
…an elusive reflection who in need of a tow.

Transmuting words to wine,
We both sip time to time,
‘Til they foment catharsis
And melt to sublime.

Breathless in afterglow,
From Insouciance and hubris,
Words weather to sediment
That we’ll climb to the precipice.

And once at the summit
We’ll cast words adrift
Toast our glasses to flying
And then leap from the cliff.


I read your words by day, to skirt the wiles of your will
                   but I know your heart by night.
Leave me, charlatan, to my waking hours, I know who’s ghost you are
why haunt my spirit in it’s sanctum by the light.

I contravene with tears in the corners of your eyes,
And push them back, and kiss their lids
And send them off to hide.
In dark whispers, calling you and calling you
To join them by their side.

Why must you take me with you, is this protest not enough?
My importune to tender ears, “I’ve things to do, I must!”
Still you wrap yourself around my world, an overflowing chalice
And turn the wine to liquid gold, the clever alchemist.