Blessed Meek

Hemingway said that one should write
hard and clear about what hurts

but what if what hurts isn’t that
which stony lays heavy and dark?

what if tend’rest touch and rest
is what hurts deepest, what hurts best?

intimate soft whispers, silk
and lacy heart of cream and crunch

quiet whispers over head
of breeze on branch, what brutal punch

is gentle beauty, soft and blurred
by grateful tears, my precious pearls

slipped down my velvet slick white cheek
I write for all we…blessed meek.
tumblr_o2mxm4xKxp1rr74i9o1_500

I Burn So Free

Unmoored in the white expanse
chained by air and frozen flats
white as far as eye can see
and just one speck revealed there…me
tumblr_o1xkqekddP1tl7h9yo1_500
red on white, no blue in sight
carmine bold against the night
a blood smear there upon that face
so cold, so neutral…blooming grace
tumblr_o2jvhrVqHK1trdezwo1_1280
I burn there in this gelid place
and nothing here to burn but ice
that smothers every spark and glow
and so I turn my heat high…slow
tumblr_o2ay76gttJ1t2ostso1_400
and steady, burning every flake
and fleck of frozen haughty glance
I use as fuel your silences
and melt the emptiness of chance
tumblr_o2g5iut6mf1s5neh1o1_1280
that random stark coincidence
of when you turn and look my way
but lend me not even a branch
to burn, just more cold arctic grey
tumblr_o2g3r1VeTP1rum5sfo1_1280
It matters not, I burn my me
I choose to be a fire hot
and brighter than the silent white
I burn the ice…I burn so free
tumblr_nzrss8QXTW1qbaxrwo1_1280