Notice Me, Little Things

“Notice me,”
Little things say,
“Fit me,
Somewhere.”

“You will fot
Somewhere,”
I whisper,
“Notice me.”

Tiny fragments of sea shells
Once perfect for collectors
Now inhabit the sand
The Sea’s metamorphosis
Perfection for this moment
Not needing to be picked
Not needing to be paraded
Alongside perfect conches
Needing to be seen
Needing to be known
If only for this moment.

Smooth purple rings exposed
Underneath the surface
Show a structure strong,
Endured, now on the surface
Stating their presence.

I know where
You will fit:
Beside me
On the sand

Among friends
Ground down
Not to nothing
But into earth

Hold us up
“You do,”
Whispers
“I do.”

A Love Song

Why should we not touch our souls
With one bow and hear
Separate strings sing one melody,
One voice to dive into
An echo
Between hills carved by Masters
Who could not have known of us?

Somehow,
They began our song
Before words stirred our tongues
Like a kiss
Born inside
A flower pushing up through dirt
To follow the path of Apollo

Its pedals,
Dripping with dew,
Swallow one ray of light.
Lips trembling,
At last,
Strong enough
For Love.  

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The Treasures of Her Day

The woman sits down in her chair at dusk
Having harvested the treasures of her day;
The paddle board and kayak stowed
Nothing remained but the words’ flow.

For many years, she wove a blanket
With certain colors and particular patterns
As seen in a book or demanded by masters. Yet,

The treasures of her day spoke different tones,
Exposed unique designs only she could see.
Time came, time went. Patience’s virtue
Slowly became the value she needed most.

The moon rose to offer its reflections.
At last, she had harvested the threads
With hues and their complements discovered

In the patterns of conversations, something
Undesigned at last but to be assembled
One stitch at at time. A life she could weave
Together with the moon’s reflection, the season

Inviting her inside out to dance: Stars,
As they point to a story yet to be told,
Ask the teller to weave for them her color.

When You Lap My Feet

When you lap my feet
With your soothing song
I want to dive into your wetness
To see how deep inside our souls
I can swim.

I walk towards you step by step
Until your song drowns the noises
Life makes of other people’s living.

I could stand on your sand
A foundation slips away
And never fear a thing
Then watch the gull fly
Over your shimmering skin
Aloft in freedom
Finding inside a sustenance
That brings life
Only your deepest flesh knows.

I am briefly jealous.
Until I hear your song again
Singing for me
Alone in the surf where you end
Always giving me a loving caress
That froths as it fades
And surges up, again and again.

You deposit gifts on my earth
Broken shells and drifting weeds
Only I can see as my treasure.
Here, the smoothed rock…
There, a flattened stone
For me to return to you in skips
Like a man remembering his boyhood
Or a boy still dreaming of what story
He will tell when I return inside you
A love as persistent as the moon
That pulls you rising
Across the quiet of a solitude
That together we understand
As a language spoken
Throughout time for this moment
Awaiting us since the beginning.

Teak Arms

Come and nestle into the nook you chose
Along my gunwale. Rest. I wrap my teak
Arms around you to fend off night. Trace your
Legend between stars, twinkling as they do.

Today, you sacrificed ashes of life
To the Father tormenting your journey
Home. The dust will not heal your wounds or His,
But appeasement will blind him long enough –

His people invite you to the Phaeacian
Feast to hear the substance of your toils.
They lift you up on deck of their swift ship
Sail you home to the Faithful and Longing.

The planks of my own arms, softened by tears:
A bee sting, a disturbed nest on the path
Where you, child, excavated tiny stones
The earliest memory of journey

Are strong tonight – we have no place to be.
Our journey awaits the rose-red fingers
Of Dawn to wrap around your heart again
Teasing tiny sparks from dark, inspiring

Another stop, another mile of miles
To go before you sleep again in this
Nook of my gunwale where I will wrap
You, once again, safe in my soft teak arms.

Tea with Tumnus

with great appreciation to Yeats and Berninger

My love we will go, we will go, you and I
Away into the dismantled cedar woods,
The reconstructed closet where the Mother
Of the House boxes and stores memory.
We can push through the hanging coats hiding
The best secret, my love, let’s go, let’s go.

Some didn’t believe in Lucy when she returned
The same moment she left, even with Tumnus’
Tea stain on her collar, but broken windows
Build solidarity in the quickest way, Innocents.
We can push through moth-eaten coats hiding
The best secret, my love, let’s go, let’s go.

I believe enough to craft a memory of snow
Whisper so feint I do not know from where we came
Nor know to where we will go, only a quiet so clear
We hear a solitary bird sing, longing for his love, we
Discover warmth that melts coldness in our hearts
Uncovering the best secrets, my love, let’s go, let’s go.

You and I, we’ll set out into the shimmering world
Blood flushing our cheeks, red like roses
Our footsteps a new Kingdom’s first definition
Snow a down coat softening all life’s sharp edges
Tonight, come be my Tumnus, serve me
The best secret, my love, let’s go, let’s go.

Image: Meeting Mr. Tumnus by noctillucca

I Whisper to the Ground

Son on shoulders,
I walk
Through the carnival crowd
I lift him
Wishing he could lift me
We could ascend under Mary’s umbrella
When the winds shift from the East to West
Together we’d jump into a chalk dream
Defended from venom
Defended from the hurt
Defended from the drugs
Needed to sort through this mess.
Red pills, blue pills, choices made
Let’s purple them together,
A much happier color for new shoes
I walk in
Son on shoulders.

I whisper to the ground:

I, too, am afraid of everyone.
I, too, feel them swallowing my soul.

Image: “Broad Shoulders” Iby Kim Roberti

Cannonball With Me

I need my girl,
Girl cannonball with me
Let’s see who can make a bigger splash
See who can crash harder
We are good at looking taller, we are grounded,
So tell them to talk about what this clown did.

I need my girl,
Girl come dance with me
We will spin and spin and spin
We will drink like Hank and Boleyn
I promise to keep your head, though, in mind
Really, to take it from you I am disinclined.

I need my girl,
Girl need me too, need me to
Love you more than 45 percent, expect interest
Compounding as we count our splashes and spins
Making life small enough to wrap my head around it:
The divine, the apology, the shit I lost.

I need my girl, I need my girl, I need…

Take this gun out of my hand, Davy.

Image: Rebecca Kinkead