The ponds of one’s sameness / energies of no outlet

Stagnant and drifting

in the ponds of one’s sameness

where frames never shift

but shrink all the same;


tight round one’s neck and

one’s heart and


one’s thinking

lost in irrelevance & languidly foolish;


a layer tight blanket

tucking the chest and

disturbing what’s left of ubiquitous rest.

Sweet, what not,

mostly not

– not much remains;


no sparks but far days

as a week brings in time

a whole month’s heavy strife.

All these discordant energies

– up, then down –

then up and sideways and

then down again,


fluttering thoughts and actions

of restlessness brought.

I don’t know what I want or need anymore

(how many months have passed again?);

only left here with feelings of being

severed, singular, static and torn

apart by these

building energies of no outlet.

A note from last summer

Since, he has appeared, approaching me at our friend’s birthday which we celebrated sprawled along the bank of the Langer See. As I was entering the lake alone the second time around, the water felt cooler after I’d been sitting in the shade of the trees for a while. I took my time, lingering in the shallows as I allowed the water to climb up to my belly button. He was hanging off the branch of tree submerged in the water and asked me how the experience of getting into the lake was going for me. We picked up a conversation – nice, easy and fun. Lost in it, I didn’t notice as a group of his friends arrived around us, emerging like sprites of the forest or nymphs of the lake – young, attractive, cheeky. As one of them (long, shiny hair and the humble confidence of toned cute) dove into the water right in front of us, his trunks slid down and the rest of us chuckled at the smooth, scrumptious shapes he uncovered. We moved around one another and spoke in a way which cast spells of the young who have missed each other; who are keen to play but are now careful how quickly they approach.

Hearts of Love Forgotten

We walk and

we talk and

we cycle and

we flock


after months where we rested and

we waited and

we laid and

we missed.


Suddenly emerge and

we gather and

we bud;

ready to embrace and

to kiss one another and

to dance in the day and

in the night.


Forth with all the color and

the light and

coming thunder as

our hearts of love forgotten

to the early rays besotten

lustily we offer.

The first song of Spring

The first song of Spring 

through drips icy arrives,

a lone bird for one that’s alone in it bringing 

the seed of expansion which stillness so hides. 


Hard is the bud where leaves lie in slumber 

as all of us dwellers still inwardly bide, 

listening, there, the bud in its slumber 

to the first song of spring, expecting its flight. 


“Sing to me, Spring, the seed of expansion, 

for winter in silence must too one day end

and all must emerge from its still sharp embrace

which life doth protect from harshness and death.”

All there is

Drawing within

need not succumb all in shadow,

folding, what’s there,

weaving within one another

and without another.


All is within you

and all that’s within you in all,

it is only acceptance which differs.

Acceptance which comes from yielding, alone,

the stasis you offer yourself, and all.


Do not be afraid of all that’s within,

the dwellers that slowness and silence deliver.

In noise it is easy to drown out their whispers,

yet life without quiet will swallow all whole.


Admit all there is

for life is a flurry

only if stillness is too much to bear.

Your Caress Alone / Anticipation

I await your gaze,

your lips and touch and passion’s purpose

upon the skin that glows

for your caress alone.

 
To be lost in me,

rapture seeded in impulsive embrace,

as I fold around and hold you tender

much like fruit in petals spring foresees.

 
For when the body feels of lovers true

so sprouts in gleaming shine,

the yearning, budding,

for your caress alone.

 
This work is dedicated to all the lovers distanced by our current emergency; to the flow of nascent romance that must find its way through patience to maintain its grace.

Do not abandon, love, what was there for you before, as for you thereafter it shall remain.