Friday, June 28, 2013

Landscape with Ruins and Fire

 Landscape With Ruins And Fire

When you are very old
and things are so very gone,
will you wish you had
held my hand,
will you remember
you never said my name
without lying
or looked in my eyes
while not speaking it?

When you're very old
wrapping yourself in the ruins
near the next Ice Age
with no one to draw magic
on cave walls  to call up your meals,
as you eat the dry harvests of ghosts
will you make yourself  an
ash shadow campfire
from our flame-scatter life,

or will you simply
find another
home to burn down
well to fill in
forest to level
for a flat plane
on which you may have
the exquisite comfort of
that last walk

~June 2013

posted for     real toads
Fireblossom Friday: Challenge: Loss
The incomparable Fireblossom, of Shay's Word Garden, asks us to write about "...the kind of loss that breaks your heart..."

Process Notes: The 'I' and 'You' in this poem are rhetorical devices and composites, and do not refer to any one specific person. Also, on a personal note, I'm having some problems adjusting to new medication, so please bear with me if I am slow in getting around to return visits. Should be temporary and should be back in shape very soon.

Header image: Landscape of Ruins and Fire, by Felix Valloton, 1914
Footer image: The Campfire, by Ambrose Bierstadt, circa 1860
Public Domain

Saturday, June 22, 2013



"There are no rules of architecture for a castle in the clouds."
~G. K. Chesterton

You always break the rules 
you think
they're for someone else.
You said.

You're allowed to break the rules
I said,
when you know
you're going to die.


"There are no rules here - we're trying to accomplish something."
~Thomas A. Edison

You can't waltz with me
in the ballroom, under the prism ice diamonds
if you don’t keep the step, and you won’t wear the gown.
Those are the rules.
You said

The rules aren’t the dance
I said.
You tiled the ballroom
with razors;
the gown comes with a straitjacket.


"Love begets love, love knows no rules, this is the same for all."

You'll never get there
if you don’t follow the road signs
if you don't go where I tell you.
I make the rules here.
You said.

So I've gone walking where
the rules are leaf-written,
where the road's a feathered serpent
flying over a waterfall 
on  the bright
silver map of chaos.

" I am free, no matter what rules surround me…."
~Robert A. Heinlein

~June 2013

posted for     real toads

Challenge: Life, Love and the Pursuit of a Really Profound Thought
Herotomost, Corey Rowley to everyone else, challenges us to "..write a bit of personal philosophy that you would like to impart to your friends.  Something you have been thinking about and strikes a chord with you and may resonate with others as well." I've been thinking a lot about rules lately, and how they --or rebellion against them--once used to dominate my life and shape everything I did--don't know if this will resonate or not. (I've tried to use some quotes to mimic the 'Chris in the Morning' aspect.)


Image: La Carte Blanche, Rene Magritte, 1965
All copyright belongs to the copyright holders.

Thursday, June 20, 2013



I dream
of a flower.

You dream
of a machine
with housing so elegant, so complete,
no grit can ever get in.

I dream of days I
husked like cornsilk.

You dream
of going fast, of red,
and the roar as your fist
pounds away your father.

I dream of spotted fawns
and  brown eyes.

~May 2013

Fawn near the Office

55 disappearing  petals for     the g-man

Top Image: © joyannjones
Footer Image: Fawn near Office, by mock turtle on flick'r

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Fantasia of the Flutterwings

Circle Limit IV, M.C. Escher

Fantasia of the Flutterwings

In the fiesta 
of the Dead's day
where the flutterwings live
where the spidersnakes slide,
the sun 
only comes after
the orgasm of rain, his
grunts quickly stifled, his teeth polite;
but the capes of the shadowtrees
mate simultaneous,
 reticulated, wet,
their love dries slowly
as the dayflower opens
the caramel sky.
Blushed with cerise
the other cheek turns,
the flutterwings burn 
till the last of the night,
the lust of the rain
brings their time.

~June 2013

Flying Fox, Vincent Van Gogh, 1886

Image by M.C. Escher may be protected by copyright. All copyright belongs to the copyright holders.
Image by Vincent Van Gogh, public domain via