comment – Page 8 – three good words

April 2, 2015April 3, 2015

twice over

that feeling of having
walked through the alphabet
twice over

that sense that I’m
probably
repeating myself
once again

there are certain words
that crop up
over and over

and I’m waiting for
that blade of light
to sear through the clouds
dense and rising
with the awful dark
absence
of inspiration
…

March 30, 2015

two springs flow
clear against ancient bows
those sacred curves
rushing, slipping
silent-secret in shining liquid
quenching the sun
wetting monuments of once hottest blood:
molten stone erupting
oozing softly to the shore, burning
birthing an island in virgin foam.

seasons passed unheeded
storms raged and poured
and jagged peaks softened
deep as velvet, curved
seamed with crystalline white
bright-mystic black
silent against the endless surf;

yet deeper, and deeper still: the living heart
blooming bright against emerald blue
vaulted high and crisp
an untouched world
singing light and brilliant with wind-beat song.

March 29, 2015

morning ritual

under the shower: a reflection
wet and bare
skin showing
clean, gleaming

pearls merging to wetness
steaming
as the water whispers on and on
arias sung alone
private unknown glee

later, dressed
sitting at a surface
cup in hand, porcelain smooth
eating what was made
by recipes written

private perfect memories
held in immaculate hands

bliss
.

March 22, 2015March 22, 2015

3:01 am

simple thoughts
so late at night it’s morning

sometimes all you have
is a bed to sleep
and some food to eat

the sky is bright
they call it light pollution
birds are actually singing

sometimes all you have
is a lamp to see
and a book to read

the silence is so loud
i can hear every move, breath, beat

sometimes all you have
is that quiet space
filled with hope and memories

and then it’s clear, deep down:
what i have is you
not a dream
but the complement to me

it’s 3 am
and the birds are still singing
.
© 2015 threegoodwords

March 20, 2015

the art of life

freedom
is not words spoken
alone

it is sang out loud
in the silence that is accepted
across a bridge, dividing
knowing what needs demanding
a rule unbroken
a law of life.

but those sunk in silence
deaf to the marvelous sound
will tell you, whisper, shout:
spring does not exist
fall is an advertisement
summer a ludicrous myth
but winter the truth that has come

not snow-sparkling white
children laughing during snowball fights
but wet and grey
full of frostbite
that’s the one
that is the silence that has come

until one, two, three and more
sing of the sun
bright in the skies
flowers below, shining
trees like seas
green and grassy
life bursting in all colours
rejoicing
second to none.

…

she laughs when i say
i am (not: shall be) myself
i have a place within
that is sacred, me

and there is that moment
the question, hope, wonder:
how long until that laughter fades?

until understanding pervades
that each and all
have their holy place
beating under their ribs
smooth on their skin?

freedom is not a request
it never was a favour
it is necessary
the natural state of all things
but no one said it was easy

like canvas waiting
clay cool in one’s hands
the art of life is
living
loving
being
free
.