us, all

the sea 2

and the candle flickers
a quick wobble of light
letting shadows pass unseen
slip silently into the night.

*

roman letters written
like footprints on white
a sandy trail of thought
dripping grain for grain
into that part
so conscious
before a salty wave of recognition
floods it all.

*

and in all this
the silence lifting
a tripping beat
tum-ti-tum
life’s relentless drum
beating beautifully
in the sheltered home
of a ‘me’, a ‘you’
together

here and there
us, all.

© 2015 threegoodwords

rise and rise

image

two seconds, three
understanding blooms
palpitations rise and rise and rise

a hot red slab of anger, pain
veined white with amusement, wry
scorched perfectly on each side
with blood red coals of feeling
soot black with melancholy

then
after all pretence is dropped
leaving just heartfelt desire
to know, see
to really understand:

a sudden why
splits the tree of reason
with a jab of irrational light
a bolt of hot heart electric
that goes deep
deeper still
all the way down

cracking open marbled stone below
that lay hidden
under deep roots of denial
possibly, probably
lying low in the undisturbed slumber
of the long ignored
disrupted by a blessed moment
of clear harsh uncompromising
sight.

sometimes the mistake was made
too long ago to be rectified
sometimes youth means
being hopelessly hopelessly blind
to the silly slyness
that is life.

© 2015 threegoodwords

sinus

 rose bouquet lovely-newborn-photos-931dotblogspotdotcom moon3

the inter, the course of the once-born
a past present known
where sweet sweet softness
breaks the heart with gentleness
and leaves the world unbroken

soft sinus beat
deep in the sanguine soul
an iridescent touch, haunting
sun-struck nights, empty, cold

borne together, both
young hearts, old minds
tormented to living pearls

a self in another
fleeing to a lonely sound, lovely
a sigh, a cry, forever

another word for us, under
lightning held in thunder
overflowing in words, four letters
a world
.

© 2015 threegoodwords

blind walls

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

…what do you want to
write about
fight about
in the cave of your mind

where blind walls of irrelevance
rise high, so high

where the mystery
of abstraction
lies in wait to catch you out
trip you up

just when you thought you had it
by using the whole alphabet
of thoughts, words, music, feeling
unsaid, unspoken

stretching out like hills rolling
landscapes wide
a whole geography of me to you to me
and everyone else in between

populating the presence
of so many memories
hanging like tapestries
in wide open halls

where in the heat of before
what is known
is quietly sung at night
in that small corner

that hidden place
where you sit and play
on heart strings, melodious

in that rhythm and space
where a look, a glance
long past

are still warm to the touch
of the quintessential
the almost holy
from me to you to me
once more

.

 © 2014 threegoodwords

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