This poem is from my book: Prose, Poems, and Private Reflections.
Flush with your kiss
Upon my naked breast,
I roll in the tall spears
Of summer grass
Clutching, tearing, ripping
With green passion
Until my fingertips
Resemble wild, yellow flowers
The ones which are numberless
As streaks of sunbeams
The ones which are saturated
With joy beyond conception
2nd Verse
A circus of lost souls
Flashes vividly before
My startled eyes
Like dieing embers
They come and go -
Back into the vast night
There is no grief
Left to speak of
As cold voices flood
An empty room
I hear only the wind,
Which blows through
The tender, hollow reeds
Only the thunder
Of the endless summer skies
3rd Verse
To the sea
I will go
To the beautiful
Manifold arms
Of the fathomless goddess
Of the mystical sea
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
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