Melinda
Pillsbury-Foster

​​

  First Lilac Series
Numbers Sixty-Four to One Hundred & Twenty-Seven


64.
The Muse of Time
Into the void of Time and Place 
I plunge myself in laughless haste
To find surcease of wounded pride.  
Integrity and will have lied 

No! My mind and conscience said
No! As I fevered, driven, sped
Along the windward side of please
Wretched, fate so cruel, teased

No! said my mind, I answered Yes!
No! said the words that touch and test
But No is just a word away
From the forgetting thought of, not today

Maybe something else will ease
That I can find my pain relieved
Maybe, sweet small word of hope
Maybe life brings other scope

Maybe, maybe some day soon
This, repaired the gaping wound
Maybe, maybe, in space-lost time
His touching, loving, will be mine.  


65.
Of All The Might Have Beens
Me
I feel the ruffling, tensive wings, behind my back and in my mind
In none elective force they gain, eating up my course of years.
With every breath, from place unsaid, I list the tastes and tones I press
Into the book of cherishment, in me fondled, owned and meshed
Into the weaving of my soul.  
In that spare place where none may go.  
The place where loneliness and fear, cage and claw and clutch me near.  

And You
I taste , resort and recomprise, the hours, days that make this life
I tease the memories replete, with shadowed longing, for release
I grip them all, I hear the tones, of laughter, lingering in my bones
I also see the empty page where I did not write my passions rage
That slew and charmed, seduced and grew the captive heart that made me new
The rare delight I feared to touch because its passions gave too much
This, the space of interdict, the sore regret that will not quit.  
And as the gathered years inpart a thick patina on my heart, 
This empty page still captures, grieves, for all the joy there lost to me.  


66.
The Ravages of Broken Dreams
Dreams can shatter in the cold of harsh made facts that were untold
Fragile things of channeled hopes that wing and flutter, lending scope
To what the soul might hope to find, redeemings of the whispered kind.  

For Dreams are fragile, born in thought, gravid with our icons sought
Redeemed from idle, wishing bred, by the searing wantings lead
To that made real and right and true by all the things we choose to do.  


67.
Hurting
The inside hurts, wounds and whys
I wear a mask, deny, deny
This, the day that arches, keeps
The psalm of sorrow in my reach

Who was the man I thought I knew?
The mind that promised and then slew?
The bright, light joy of new found love
Smashed and savaged, ungentle shove

Reality, a sharpened blade
That sheers and sunders, life betrays?  
This still-born dream of soul found ease
Lives in me and yet I grieve.  

I'd carve the feelings from my head
If I thought that's were they bred
But seldom's chance oppresses angst
I know this love, know all its pangs

No, A long, slow time binds in my heart
To kill out this love Time must restart.  

68.
The Sum of What I Am

I hold myself against the world, measured by an unseen rule
To be in light, divine and bright, and live in constant, self renewal
Those dark moments, locked in time, will not distort or crush or bend
The chiseled, tempered, mind-wrought soul that, born in shadows, finds truths end. 

This the quest, self and soul, mind and body, tortured goal
This the cherished journey's end.  
Fragile thought, carbon wrought
Time dear bought
Hoped and sought

Memories my chaliced drink
To bring me always to the brink
Of rare divining
Rapture mining.  

To make me whole
My only goal.  

69.
Shackling Silence, Lost and Gone
From tossed couch and dream wracked sleep
My soul, once grieved, has found release
No phantomed presence tarries here
No anguished weight, mind festered, near

I am unshackled from that mind
Freed and still afraid and lined
With words not spoken into night
That promised, cooed, of love sublime

Emptied, culled of dreams and thought
Ravished, worn and practiced on
I still remember hands and needs
Heightened senses, lustful greeds

But peace, serene and hopeful friend
Stands beside me to amend.  

70.
Lips that Linger, Taste and Know
Your lips have lingered, strange and slow
Tracing arches, moving low
You bring my pulse to heightened need
Aching, bracing for your seed

The touch, the taste the raptured thought
The mind that ventured, wove and wrought
The phrased iconic motes of time
That captured image, pierced, sublime

That seduced my soul into a fire
Of sear-edged passion and desire
Owned my body, wrapped in time
Chatteled, ravished by your mind

You, the fire burned in me
Gave me light, that I might see.  

71.
Giving in to Passion
Passion, touching, well worn lust, 
kisses speaking, skin warned trust
Your heat invades my sleep and days, 
you have become my kindled play
Your touch, your tongue your savage need, 
my own sweet song and unsaid creed

You. The interdiction made, 
that cancels out all other shades
Of promised love and tendered hope, 
you, the circumference of my scope
You. The life I pour and taste, 
that lingers in a mote's embrace

If other lives are then denied, 
is this - the one I live, a lie?  
Do I exist to fill your need?
Is that the whole now left to me?
Or will you loose your spirit grasp
And let me go, made free at last?  

72.
Time
Time.
Illusion, answer and device
To frame and manage and remove
The questions asked that words can't prove
Shatter thought and disabuse.  

Time and Space
Two different sides of one same thing 
Two different tempos, warped and thought
Two fractured answers, joined and just
The tumbled tensions mind has brought.  
To recreate the unseen Not.  

Light.
Essential matrix, mind and eyes
That knows and sees and shatters lies
Jointed within it: Space and Time
Without the two and so sublime

Light to vanquish all that's seen
Light to sunder and redeem.  

73.
Ruptured Past and Future, Now
I live in moments strung in time
That touch and click and change my mind
Looking forward into place, 
where none have been and none remain
I see the fragile promised taste
Of life's sheered magic unembraced.  
I look back and see the flat pressed page
Of all the have-beens, dead with age.

And in this moment, poised as now
I live in light and make no vows
for vows that shackle, cage and claim
Our lives, give nothings, only maim
Empty promised, word starved lies
Leaving just one question, Why?  

This, an eon sold to learn
That promises themselves can burn.  

74.
Another Poem for Pleasure
Throbbing, aching, silent dreams
Given life in Time's wide stream
Winnowed, wandering, waxing bold
Here, the story never told

My lover reached through time and tears
Touching, tender, banished fears
I was held close and trembling, cried
To know that loneliness had died

With passion deeply known and owned
So vast that Time itself was shown
That this fair loving, made to last
Sealed minds and bodies, now and past. 

The Lover found despite my fears 
Who challenged Time to still my tears
Who loved with all his mind-borne soul
Denying all but me, his goal  

This the tortured, riven goad
This, the Lover's story told.  

75.
Fleshless touches, Mind born Love.  
You reached into the throne inside
And plucked the chords I had not heard
Mind explosion, orgasmic thought
Connections unseen, made with words  

I laughed and chortled with delight
Danced on spinning threads of gold
To rarely see, reflect and read
The obscure stories time has told.  

This, then that, in order laid
So obvious when well addressed
What before was there but missed
Now, astonished and remeshed.  

You reached into the heart of me
And with you mind changed all I see.  

76.
Hidden 
Thus barely had my love begun when so entranced became my heart
That I did trod each fallen day with hopes that we would never part
I dreamed a touch dropped from his hand on mine in idle, thoughtless jest
I dreamed a smiled moment wrought with fantasies of fond-thought caress
I dreamed away a world of time, found chastisement in my dearest friends
Learned to hide the barest thought that could reveal my ravishment.  

This, the idle of my days
Painful love in many ways

But hidden in that roiled time
Was also joy writ so sublime
That even as I reflect in thought
I cannot wish that it were not

The Time in life that redefined
Conceptions of my will and mind.  

77.
Transmutation of Truth 

Transformed, remade and tempered heat
The truth conforms, restores and comes
From places spare and vanishing
On horizons fraught with mind made storms.  

The truth, removed, refitted, tried
Devolved through time and from design 
Weaves and knits and mattes our lives
Into resonating, oncoming tides

All the shards of what could be
Resolve themselves into what we see
Reformed, construed into a Now
The past, tight fit, anoints, endows 

As colors mutate in times rush
The future, borning light, is us. 

78.

The Sharp, Taut Smell of Spring

The winter nurtured, owned and held, the tiny points of growing life
First taut, then tendering into light
They hold the future, rapt and frail
In those first days, in silent breath
Tentative shoots curl out from death

For winter-shorn were all the leaves
Matted, sated, left to freeze
Laid upon the earth's decay
Brown and gray and aged with frost
The earth's becoming, lightly wrought
All goes in for all is naught

Cycles written, cycles owned
Cycles, traced, defacing, known
Seasons simmered in the time
Of what may be the God's design

No beginning and no end
No respite that might begin
This, the cycle of the year
Nothing there to cause you fear. 

79.
In the Arms of Night
Entwined in arms, enfolded hearts, 
raptures spent and speech departs
In minutes, warmed with tendered ease
We drowse in burnished, mellowed, free 
Our perfect silence, woven thoughts
Unexpected but most sought.  

Sanctuaried, hard-wrought space
Where two are one inside embrace
In this scant, time perfect what-can-be
We breathe and flesh out memories
To carry into soulless time
Forever crystals in our minds.  

80.
Loving Isn't Always Having
In love we act, in love we live
Knowing others, blessed to give
Finding in another self
The soul-true things we have not felt

Entwining, joyful, ravished dreams
These, a part of what love means
Quiet giving, tender trust
This, the passion beyond lust.  

Touching self, so rarely found
In Other seeming, reflected, owned
Joining spirits, always bound
In the giving we have grown.  

Knowing when to act - and not
This, the lesson not forgot.  

81.
The Whole of Earth
One life, one thought, one long becoming
Through ages counted and unknown
Through spiraled thought, bestowed and shown
Human thoughts weigh in and turn
Their lives, bare motes within the churn

The past, not gone, blends light with time
The future, spent, gives form divine.

This, the sum of human ways
A fracture of the Earth's long song
The coupling life, speaks out its days
Its voice, a chord raised, lilting, strong

Pulsing, promised, spiraled, known
This fulcrum, poised and speaking true
To those whose ears are pitched to hear
The weighty wonders warping through

From life, a speaking, wondered dream
Subsumed within one arching scheme.  

82.
The Golden Beat of Radiant Heat
To still the quivering on the sun
And mask the bidden light of thought  
That I might see the journey run
And melt the memories you brought

Availed of rapture, sore and hurt
I bind the time of kind and birth
A new-wrought me, untouched and tried
Because the essence of me died

This pain, so new and wounded, raw
Could I have known, imagined, saw?
That such sweet touchings, tender new
Could destroy the world I knew?  

Hope eternal, vaulted dreams
Shredded, torn from seam to seam.  

83.
Ardent Thoughts of Rippled Time
Rippled time erases, eased, 
incites the mind to heightened needs
The flow and warp and weave of space, 
time treads moments, spare embrace

Astonishment at what is now, 
looking back into the known
The languid moment of the pause, 
removes the whisper of the vow
Past and future, meet and touch
In the Now of moments trust.  

Long and lasting, earned and wed
Within the cusp of speechless dead.  

84.
A Trysting Caught in Steam Bred Heat

I tryst with you in laughing words
I smile, turn and walk away, 
glancing back to see you watch, 
confident I will not stay
You know that steam embraces us, 
compiled, held in spirit trust
Steam connects the errant winds
Steam connects our thoughts and hopes
Steam is hunger, wanting, now.  
It calls us back to long lost vows.  
We dance as lovers, drawn in heat
savoring the tokens of delight.  
While steam encloses, wraps and gleams
We leave the darkness of the night
The steps remake our time set dreams
We gasp and throb and thrum with need
Drawn on in with thoughts of steam
One sure end to lovers flight
One sure meeting, love delights.  

85.
Pleasure, Me
You are pleasure, sweet and sharp
You couch and cuddle, fill and own
Your wit repairs as still it hones
Your eyes collect and know the tones

Of spare, divined, delighted needs
That lend themselves to fine degrees
That warble, sing and echo through
The world, now shattered, we thought we knew.

Super saturated thought, 
redefined and then deployed
Distilled within to viscous drought, 
that explodes in perfect joy.  

Born in shadows, motes of light
Minds embattled, find their sight.  

86.
The Fullness of the Mother
In me.  
You move and flutter, kick and stretch
In me, alive and growing
You dance the cadenced ballet of becoming
Balanced between the Not and blood anointed birth.  
In me,
Flesh of me, life removed and given, time improved and riven
For those few months I am your metronome of pauseless memory
Heart's pulsing thrum that looms as sun and earth,  
Womb that stretches to subsume, enfold in growing girth
My body lends itself to your becoming
Breasts that swell, and fill and ache for tender suckling
Mind that centers on your sweet, sweet in turned strumming
Chords that blend and bond and skiens that weave and warp 
In symphonies of Oning.  
Reminding the inward looking soul,
Of that distant, final goal
In me.  
Becoming.  


87.
Bindings Broken in the Wake
We bind in time with right made love, released into the sum of self
Bindings wrought with act and thought, bindings in the core and quick
Defining what and who we are,
Bindings, tendrils weave and warp and carry
Our lives and souls, in timeless spirit, needings marry
Bindings
Between us life and spirit long
Touching without flesh or thought
Shadows of what came before
Penumbra of what will be
Bindings.
Defining,
The soul of human place on Earth
Great Encompassed, always there
Born from tiny, minute thrummings
Of others, ones, for whom we care.  

This, the overarching theme
Binding us in one large dream.  

88.
Source of Rare Becoming
In twisted matrixed dancing, slow and glancing, future thought
Lays the source of mind becoming, unconscious brimming that begot
Warped and woven, glazed with passing, ages focusing, made real
This, the Earth-mind birthing, shattered past, the future steel

Thin strands of lives that echo what was never what we saw
Tender fragile passage, lived in ages, paid in stages, the flesh encrusted wages
Of becoming that will heal.  

This, the cycle lending, as beginnings must be wrought
From the composted shades of endings that subsume
What dust had thought.
Shattered with the touch of what cannot now be obtained
Lives that weep with souls we keep, that One might become sane.  

Spirit does not answer to the questions time reveals
And mind, the final implement, will make the Oning real.  

This, the one true thought I found
In papers numbered but unbound.  

89.
Cutting Courses, River runs, in the Culture
Shifting flow, ebbs and wanes, trickles first then flooding comes
This, the way that time is changed, this the means that turns and numbs

First identify the need, tragic life racked, strain to free
Then the kind of bindings used, first to own and then abuse
Number them, remember, sense, where the bindings, gnawings wince
Strain and struggle to hold fast, human spirit, stretching, gasps
Resisting courses newly wrought, because the path has not been taught
Then a trickle, laughter grows, freedom here, soon all will know
Floodgates open, rush is on, even weaklings then grow strong

The human face, divine but blind, finds new dimensions, breath and mind
In the opened course of hope, freedom beckons, broadens scope

This the charge upon us laid
Make it true with each fell day.  

90.
No Fear of Death
There is no fear in death drawn storms, no hope in shadowed life
For curtains raised or lowered come to mark the end of breath and strife
Death will come, do not remark, on wills that shiver and evade
For death is not the end of life, and life is but a gift repaid
Within your fear find also thoughts
Of places caught beyond your tears
In those told fields of mind bright thoughts
You continue, grow, and know life's Not.  

Not the pulsing of your heart, not electric course of mind
Not the pull of sweet loves need, nor even children there can bind

The spirit enters, gloves drawn on, never touching, life's long song.  
You thought that spirit touched your flesh, that there resided core and meshed
But no, the spirit still remains, in dimensions free of life bent pain

You, live enfleshed, raptured, known
By only shadows, touched and shown.  

91.
Forget Not Yet the Sweet Unrest
In numbered sequence, tersely writ
A course of love both rich and owned
I speak my lover, cherished wit
Of all those raptured hours shown

My mind, devoid of shadowed hope
That Love might be returned or seen
This, the field where I delope
In duel set, times destiny

To meet and touch without the flesh
Of bodies tried and scarred with years
In that sure place of minds we meshed
Freed of tortured hopes and tears

This, the offering, lately made
Given to you from this shade.  

92.
Sighted Thought in Quest
I searched the folds of muted time, adjured and vanquished, sore defined
To find the sight of one sage mind, that spoke in truth-told, golden signs
My eyes, such hungered, riven things, imagined light in soul-barbed stings
Inside the tumult of the storm, I froze, to draw close and be warmed
By one whose thoughts, in cadenced waves, gave light to Time's voice-voided caves

I gave up hope, resigned to fate, I would never know a chance rebate
Of winnowed findings, I would eat, sour dining on rough hewn meat
Until I found, in shocking place, a mind that lent unquenching taste
Of thought removed reproved and true, timeless beauty, always new.  
Without belief I tried and touched, the mind-made edges, smooth and buffed

In this ether-lit and timeless place
My soul found one with matchless grace.  


93.
When Love Reflects
When love reflects and finds its being
In someone else's aching, rapture, chance made dreams
When Time, the ravager and friend
Remake the love and still it sends
Its silken ties into the fray
Of aching, raptured, savage days
In frail, fraught hope it might reprise
Echoes from someone else's' eyes

When this small, twinkling, unsanctioned thing
Finds fire resonating, brings
The promised, needed, wrenching thought
That one such lives, and one such caught
The trembled message from a mind
That breathes the self-same heart's design

When souls find harbor in the cold
Of life-long wandering, lone and old
When spirit questing wrests a yes
From fate's dimensioned, no-saying breast
Hasn't Time and Life secured
The answer which must then endure?  

For when we find our heart made mate
To linger in reflecting fear
Reproves the tumult, stormy fates
And risks that we'll lose that thing most dear

So when you find you soul made fit
Never question, grab it quick.  

94.
Giving Place with Gentle Grace
One future forged from human hearts
One unrequited yes to say
One People, born from many parts
One Earth to walk in One new way

To weave the Time and righteous thoughts
To lightly live in deathless pause
Each person known, accepted, grown
To full circumference of their own. 

Ideas, all woven in, respected, 
Seen, protected, kinned
Ideas the imaged masks of Gods, 
That live in us despite the odds

This the charge of human kind
Blend our passions, souls and minds.


95.
The Edges of Sanity
Listen.  
On the carbon edge of reason, where the view is sharp and clear
There is madness in the seasons of the voices we can't hear.
Where the shadows of perception intercept the almost sane
There is frozen interception of the places torn with pain

Hear me speak.  
In the quiet halls of reason, chaste, marbled, cold and known
Where muted erudition strikes a balance, bright and owned
Where agreements meet with discourse and wit strikes through to show
That reality is safe, limits bound, within the world we know.  

Hear me.  
In that fractured world illusion, where you think that you are safe
A precipice approaches, hurdling, speeding toward our place of grace
Never known until we tumble into voids we cannot see
Reality is fragile, shadowed, lost in what will be.  

Know this.  
So remember when your premises, so safe, benign and smug
Tip our world into a another, which you dismissed with one brief shrug.  
That the reality you think is safe, with boundaries set and carved in place
Has never been, can never be; this world's becoming binds us to what we dare not see.  

96.
Passions Calling, Mind Reproves
I pulse, and throb, and banish thought, 
I sublimate and still remain
The tender source of savaged needs, 
that ignites a fire far from sane
Winnowed follies, choice select, 
these mind made raptures still detect
The architect of their sweet prints, 
in one who cannot give consent

For he is caged by his own will,
 by choices that he stands by, fulfills
While his passions starve, his flesh reproves, 
his intellect condemns and moves
Toward drought and need and maddened dreams,
 that consume and still relieve
The long felt emptiness, deep within,
 that passion source where life begins

Caught between the light and shade
Prisoned by the choice he made.


97.
I'll Throw You On the Bed!
If I could have my way with you, 
inhale your skin and taste your lips
If I could learn each crease and fold,
 hair and freckle, what each told
Speak dark magic in your ears,
 retrofit all of your fears
If I could sprinkle laughtered wit, 
among the pillows, where we fit

Explore the raptured, heart held soul, 
that yearns and thirsts and lends me glow
Remind the spirit, cradled there, that time, 
our Mother, forgives dispair.  
Plumb still-born dreams, now fractured, 
fused, in sad condition, worn, abused
The peace, serene friend of hope,
 would mend our lives, increase our scope.  

Reward the strength that does not freeze, 
when fate and reason can't agree.
Sweet lips that linger, taut and tart, 
reprove these minutes spent apart
Remembered metronome of time,
 counting down our lives in numbered lines
This, reflection, still-point born, 
from hours wasted, gravid, torn

Remember this, sweet heart's delight
We both will grace death's longest night.  
So if we would sip this chaliced drink
Trust your passions, breathe deep and think


98.
To sup on You
I drink, divining, from your lips, taste the hours of our lives
Satiate my body's needs and retrospect on all the lies
That banish what is real and true
Within the place that we once knew

I recollect the houred thrums of rabid need and wrenching sums
That tally all the fledging thoughts
That tarry where our wills will not
In that place of sharp reproof,
Anguish reigns and pain seeps through

Regret not I your unmade vows
Those mind made wordings, hollowed, torn
Neither do I yet unsay the passioned promises then endowed
But not yet, the lover said, tinged with longing wrapped in thought
Not just yet, unraveled cloth, that begins a process, newly spun

Retreat from pain, and aching need
In peace, I leave my heart to bleed.  


99.
Wordward Lover, Fractious Thoughts
Words that wander in my mind, 
anchors of emotive scenes
Evoking pictured condiments to 
what the world can really mean
Prismed light, reflected thoughts,
 warping wrapping, callowed, honed
By all the sheering, vested clearing,
 mind can sculpt and spirit own

These, the tooled, hardened implements
Used to plumb the mind's descent
Into the place not always known
The place located inward of bone

Before the thoughts, before impulse
Before the lust, and trust and scope
Before the raptured, aching needs
This place established, mind's own seed

This, the word-touched, homeward point
That you and I, One, will anoint. 

100.
Emptied Thought
I still the voice that speaks and dreams
Still the thoughts that almost touch
The faintly known, empassioned schemes
That drove me, anguished, frightened, judged

I stilled that voice of shattered dreams
Still cacaphonies of plans
To see the now forgotten scenes
That, buried, made me what I am

In that abandoned, shackled place
Where time and thought can interlace
Still-point of forgotten age
Where nothing done is not delay

Where Now is wrought with runic thought
And hours spent remade and taught
The spirit of forgotten peace
The future shape of memory

There, in that pristine cusp of time
I linger to reclaim what's mine.  

101.
Life in Death
There is no life is time torn death
No love, no touching, nothing born
No stippling of lighted days
No raptured songs, swell out, adorns
The sylvan, meadowed, fevered world
Where innocence is no reward

Innocence, the ignorance that gives us permit to undo
The waking dream of pristine memes
Reviling thus the mind bent cord
And so connects, reflects, detects
The banishment of nature's sword  

No life in thought, no shallow dream
No mind made lock on infant schemes
Remands us into infancy
This one way trip commits and frees

The wandered soul to lightened heights
That understood, can so delight

102.
Part of Me
You're part of me, you weave my day, 
with heated thoughts, remarks and play
I tender, pause, and breathe your scent 
in woofed and stippled increments
You, the passion born in me, 
that time might kindle what will be.  
Part of me, collect of time, 
through the rippled, course divine
To gleam and fracture, grasp and own,
 this epic master, cast and shown.  

You the part of me retained
When all else is lost to pain

You, the chord, sung true and strong
In non-elective, voiceless song
That I hear through out my frame
giving light to days that maimed

You the shadow, you the light
That holds and folds in shrouds of night
You the source, the core of me
You, passioned mote, can make me free.  

102.
Trysting Eyes
I tryst with you through eyes that hold, 
The promises I have not told
I lace, and languish, lull and lilt, 
Echoed imaged, mind made guilt
I feel too much, and give myself, 
Unrestricted, but not compelled

You pulse and tarry in my mind, 
Even when I'm not inclined
Your ready wit and Time worn heart 
Has ravished me in every part
Because I let you into me
No place there is truly free

You, my lover, timid, meek
Afraid to take the thing you seek.  

103.
Heavy Limbs and Languid Longings
The time lays heavy on my heart
The clock ticks only when I watch
Ignored, despised and used to start
I simmer sadness, hurt and caught

Between a future I can't touch
And a past that shattered, broke
I've always cared too very much
Now love reminds the cost bespoke

I coin out follies, days sublime
Remaindered memories that tell
That life remains, both coarse and fine
Bought most dear with heart's travail

You, the item so desired;
Hope the cost I paid entire.  

104.
The Sweet Unrest of the Unconsummated Quest
Needing, wanting, dreaming, trapped, 
Scheme to have her imaged flesh
Feel your cured, to relapse
Into hunger raging needing 
That consumes and leaves us bleeding

This, the place where we both stand
Waiting, waiting, for what command?  

Ricocheting in your mind
Skin and touching, sweet, sublime
Never having, never touched
In this sparse way avoid so much

Passion laughs when we delay
Because it knows the end of days
That send our wishes into death
Of all that raptures, fond, caressed

Fate smiles at the silly fools
Who hesitate because of rules
That don't apply to soulward needs
The kind of love that cannot freeze

But burns, unstopping through all time
Untouched by death, distress or mind

This, the hours running past
Reminds, defines and then declines
To take the weight of follies greed
And do the thing long since agreed
Only you, in this can act
Do so before all time impacts

105.
Very Physical
I ache and fever for your touch, my skin cries out, must have, must have
The thirsting skin and flesh and mind, now empty, look and need and twine
Into the soul starved place within, 
Where light and hope and time begin

You idle in your hectic days, your will that stagnates and delays
The cusp approaching, soul-seared bliss, 
that began with just one mind made kiss

No lipped embrace in world of place
No forbidden fondled, kindled sign
To show the world wherein you live
That you'd found a mistress, soul sealed bliss

In what frail place in past made days
Did you imprint with light thought haste
That shadowed mind-meld tortured peck
That shackled me with steel-forged respect?  

Respect that sees, and knows and gains
Through time, in space wove fracticious pain?  

If I had known where this would lead
Would I have written or given heed
To all the shards of molten thought
That ravish, sunder, pillage, rob? 

The sanity I had in hand
When I had not known you as a man?  

106.
Structures and Dying
We build them in our minds and hearts
Vaulted ceilings, pledged with lives
We build them into time and start
To think of them as living, wise

Structures.
Tools to carry us past our years
To hold what we have built and done
Cathedraled barriers for our fears
To convince that battle can be won

Death
No limits of our human lives
On death, and famine, anguish, breed
They say the No and thus divide
Our living wills from age lost creeds

Structures
Churches, nations, institutes
Clubs and places we reside
All of these, we hope refute
The knowledge that we, ourselves, must die.  

Structures
Remember as you build and strain
To put on another coat of paint
That structures have no life or breath
No spirit moves their always death

Structures
Never living, never filled, 
Never speaking, never real
Within the least of us abides
The thing eternal that death denies. 

Structures
Look on house and castle, mill and keep
See shadowed things that humans make
To challenge death and lend us sleep
 From knowing death's unchallenged wake.  

Death
Accept that life in us resides
And structures can't turn back that tide.  


107.
Serene Encaptured, Laughing, Free
It vanished between two sharp made breaths
Before, I roiled, trapped and owned
Then, one lung encaptured gasp exhaled duress
And left me quiet, wondering, lone.

Amazed, unready to believe
That shackled will could dare to breathe

The thought of him who held and touched
Receded, fled, consumed in dust

I plumbed my mind, renewed and shorn
Of electric, pounding, savage, morned

My body, mine again at rest
My mind a weaving, astonished guest

Within a place I'd ceded, lost
To one who used, abused then tossed

The soul of what I will become
Into the past of addled sums.  
Will I regret this harbored peace?
Will I remember passion, grieve?
Will I unnumber all the days
That owned and held, taught raptures ways?  

I wait to see what time will show
But freed is peaceful, this I know.  

108.
Good by to Pleasure
We touch the knowing, time has past,
 delivering up the hard edged rule
We'll not entwine, delight and know,
 transcendent joy; embrace most cruel
No, the fates decree read out.  
No, the echo from our hearts
No, the fractured, time lost renewal, 
of that fierce life and canceled doubts.

No, it resonates, impales, the hopes 
and fears that are my core
No, the last impending shout that 
honors all that marks and scores
No. The final, raveled chord, 
the banished hope its own reward
No the faint and wrenching grief, 
that stills my soul with surged relief.  

No to what is wrong, recants, 
the kind of life that should enchant.
Instead I turn to view the void, 
that promises a love employed
To be and grant, becoming more, 
than that sparse thing we once enjoyed
A love true forged in honor bright, 
that stays and plays the soul long night
Entwines my heart with one who gives, 
 the best of honor he can live

Pleasure touched me, held my soul, 
seduced my mind and reaped my goals
To turn, unthinking from the wage,
 that torn and slew the love I gave. 

But I, now tempered in his heat
Amend my soul, tell truth, and grieve.  

109.
Rebirth of Year
Cycle wintering through time,
 begins to thaw and shift and grow
The Year's own seasoned what-will-be
 draws on life, remembers, sows
Seeds, remakers of the past,
 capsules of the Year's last gasp
Surviving winter's savage storms, 
sustained by chance and growing warm
Burgeon into greening thought, 
untidy havoc life has wrought

Thoughts unspoken, drawn in time, 
thoughts bespoken, show sublime
Unrelenting, unbroken lines, 
draws our memories back in time.  
Life, beginning, life undone, 
life unending, from one dark sum.
While forward into this Year's place,
 we see renewal forged with grace
Reprove the unremitted death,
 that wintered in the darkest depths

Spring, the symbol and the cause, 
of hope's assurance, forwards draws
Us into the appointed rounds, 
of life's renewal, winter bound

Furrows fertile, Goddess takes, 
the reassurances we make
In fielded, sacred, time made rite, 
or in the pulse of harbored night
Life continued life employed, 
life regenerates, deploys
The sum and sanction, mind and heart,
 that resurrection, life restart

From buds that flower, grass that thrusts,
 birthing mothers, time vaulted trusts
That life, exemplifies, renews 
the One eternal, known, imbued
With inner sureness, gravid thought,
 that life, the always, will not stop.  

110.
Late Afternoon Idyll
I lock the door against alarm, 
the golden light is muted, long
Jasmine tinged, the air seeps in
inhale, reflect and think again
I light a candle, turn back the sheets, 
take off my clothes, breathe sharp and deep
The canopy, enclosed, defines
this place in time that is all mine.

I share with no one in the flesh
but in my mind, one person, yes
Moves within this couched bower
touches me at every hour.
One other mind, one other soul
remembers, this, our always goal.
I feel his laughter, touch and lips
hands that raptured, mind that sips
Thoughts from places, obscure, sublime
places reflected in both our minds.  

He lays with me upon the bed
breasts, he fondles, tongues and frets
Of every part he will enjoy
as in my mind I to, employ
Imagination, spirit, thought
to give him all the pleasure wrought
By bodies blending, inciting needs
that between ourselves light raptures seed

This the nap I never miss
Raptured rest and soul seared kiss.

111.
Pain that Consumes
Pain, lacing through my spirit and erasing who I am.  
Pain, manumitting constellations, subsuming integrations
Becoming conflagrations within the transubstantiation, 
of the cracked, unmercied mayhem deep within
Pain.  

I forget its absent aching, reject its fragmented takings 
Dine in stomach-wracked, forsaking
by the last, uneasy plea
Please, pass away and let me be.  

Pain.
All is loss and none can help me
Surrounded, fenced and mounted
By the inward seeking fingers of
a vicious, coursing whisper
Building to a shouting ember
Burning me and all that enter
into things now unremembered

Pain.  
Was is always so, internal?
Will I die and bless the promised funeral?
Will I never know the reason why I tremble
With pain which kills and humbles
No gain as the spirit fumbles
To remain
Among the sane?  

Pain.  
I put down the plundered fearing
And amend the darkened nearing
Of the times, removed but clearing
That reprove and yet conceal me
From the demon all consuming
That owns and still runs through me
without end.  

Embracing what I fear to know
Lends light to where I cannot go.

112.
In the Thrall of Thought and Space and Light
Captive by my own hard will, 
held by that which in me knows
That this, the substance where we live, 
integrates, reforms and shows
The shape, the timbre, shadows, light, 
of future scenes and ending night
Thralled, reminded, blended, owned
from ethereal echo down into bone

Intellect, the fortress breeched
that Mind, the harbor, could be reached.
Stripping off the What-is-not, 
to see the shape that I forgot
Abandoned in the core of Light
that this persona might find flight
I taste and suckle, hone, improve
that pulsing thought that in me moves
To nurture, gleem, excise, remind
the places, shallowed, not inclined
To join the raptured, weaving song
that Human Mind, joined Truth, prolongs
That Time, and Light, and sheer edged Truth
might blend the memories, capture youth.  
Fashion that unending tool
that for the Earth, assures renewal.


113.
Blue Moon
The Blue Moons speaks in wordless dreams, 
that fracture time, sublime, unseen
To ravish wills and challenge plans
that, unconsidered are thus unmanned

The Blue Moon seeps into your soul
touching, thwarting all your goals
That born in wordward, Western place
are incomplete and without grace

The Blue Moon calls and beckons you
to reconsider what you do.
To pause within this cusp of time
and evaluate with one whole mind

The Blue Moon, sered and ancient Dame
reminds you of the longer game
That gives and takes and renders moot
rules that bind one kind of truth

The Blue Moon, never fickle, set in time
always coming, always kind
Grants you wishes, long since made
though undelivered until today.

The Blue Moon, rising tide of hope
will never plead, coerce or joke
But in its season, can be availed
the gifts and joys for which you railed

The Blue Moon. light of time past known
denied us nothing we need or know
But grants, with shadowed, ransomed wit
the promised gift, if you see fit.  

So consider well Her seldom touch
Before you while away so much. 

114.
Light the Moon
Reflected light, arched high and true
  denotes the laughter Stranger slew
Laughter lodged inside my frame
  the Stranger, strangled and defamed.  
Stranger to my eyes and touch
  no Stranger to my wakened lust
No Stranger to my thoughts and hopes
  no Stranger to delights own scope

A Stranger came into my life
  scored the heart I thought was safe
Within my hard-edged tempered mind
  smug, I watched the clever theft
No Stranger to the in turned song
  chorded, chanted, often wronged
But cradled in me, often changed
  but telling love and never maimed
Until the Stranger, suave and kind
  made grave inroads in my mind

Stranger, emptied me of tears
Leaving just my hope wrung tears.

115.
An April Fool
It's not the month, the day or time, 
  that makes us fools, faults our minds
It's not a thing, external, seen
  that leads us into churlish scenes
But the mistaken, inner, harbored coils
  that disabuse, amuse and roil
The sorest known delection there
  is built upon mistook despair
Funny down into the bone
  When misapprehensions make us moan

This, the gift of April showers
  carries in it unseen powers
Muscled minds built up a fence
  that could make a Goddess wince
But misdirection, joking, glib
  reveals the faults within there hid.

April's magic, acknowledged not
  is in the revelation wrought
That laughter peeks from every place
  when lookers see what truth they face.  

116.
Cuddling In
Sated, drained, we both subside, 
  in sheeted sanctum, barely tried
We twine and nuzzle, learning ways
  to fit ourselves, as love still plays
I trace the shape of your sweet lips
  remind myself, delight and slip
In closer to your warming shape
  Happy with this life's rebate

While you relax in well earned fatigue
  having done your best to please
Your arms remand, demand I stay
  and never turn and slip away.
I couch my head upon your breast
  Giving it the best found rest
While hands continue to caress
  All the parts that did their best

Sanctum of our love made ease
This, the place where lovers tease.  

117,
In Fantasy
In fantasy we love and prove, 
  our timeless lust, revived and owned
We dance in bound and quaking steps
  that bear us ever closer pressed
Into the ravishment, delight
  of velvet folded, mind sought night

In fantasy we've lived and moved
  enjoined, ignoring all reproof
From time scarred memories reflect
  the occupation we delect
Within our minds, so newly known
  we find that now we're not alone

Reflected in a stranger's eyes
  our secret self, in other guise
So bodies join, embracing souls
  their intertwining, time's own goal
Within a place, both deep and owned
  we recollect the love most honed
By all the acts, without and in
  that made of us such well fit friends
Lovers, living, found inside
  the place that holds the One delight.

118.
Convention Detection and Interdiction
The past is present in the now, 
  reflecting, eddied, time warped vows
That recreate the patterned thoughts
  that underlay the work we wrought.

Summoned from that living age,
  when minds wrote truth on every page
Touched, reminded, owning, banned
  from giving in to Time's command

In that time of fragile threads,
  woven, woofed and spun our best
We walked and spoke in sharp relief
  to think we'd altered human Keep

In that short season, lit in space
  forgotten, culled from history's trace
We lived our lives, and bowed our heads
  bereft of hope consumed by dread

Sustained in breathing, numbered days
  by visions of the price delayed
By those, unable to inform
  the futures lost in Time's own storm

So in shadowed absence we lived and died
That ages coming might turn time's tide.

119.
Darkling places in my soul
Within my soul 
Where darkness breeds
Where nothings whisper, touch and grieve
Where cycles of unbidden time
insinuate, remind and dine
On those uncertain hopes and fears
The banishment of all my years

Within my soul
unhallowed realm
where light reverses, strife screams and rails
Where nothings linger to remind
The limits of the scope of mind
In this place where time meets light
I encounter death, rebirth and sight

Within the place of shackled eyes
That riven corner filled with lies
I pause because I cannot know
The hard edged truths that do not show

Within that place, not soil or time
Within that vestibule of mind
I cannot know as I once did
The truth so deep and firmly hid.  

I learn again to know by just
what is not mind, or body's touch
I learn to search, and feel and own
Knowledge older than Earth's bones

120.
Being Happy
Being happy is a burble of the fraction of a stream
Never growing, not becoming, what is central to our dream

Begin happy that evades the core allegiance to our quest
is happiness which costs too much to keep or to request

Being happy is unconscious, walking without thought of place
Being happy is the child-self that, unthinking has no grace

When your mind cuts past the scenes of illusive fairy tales and sees
The raptured dawn of certain thought, happy dies and is not sought

Intense, abiding, always things
Replace the happy unmade dreams

And life internal can begin
Speaking to us from time's end.

121.
A Place for Healing: Yosemite
Shining stone that stretches sky, 
 serene, and launching open thoughts
An aged crone with stark white hair,
  bows before the thin gold air
Open valley, cup of peace, 
 held in the hands of gods that sleep.

Cathedral of a raptured range 
 that denies our fears and stills our pain.  

Breathe deep.  
The sharp and tender scents of life 
  blend and tickle, tint and glow.
Perfumed thoughts of wind-born life, renewed, 
 compelled, an ageless strife

Listen.
Echoes from the time wrought stones whistle, 
  whimper, shout and moan
Birth song of the coming place, 
  this time caught in moments grace

See.
The light caught movements, vaulted heights, 
  alive with visions, forged by life
The Earth's slow coming into thought, 
  cherishing the age long Not.  

Yosemite.
Symphonic motion, tempered time, 
  place elected, cusp divine. 

In this place my spirit rests,
  forging time's next aching quest.  

123.
When We Know Down Into Bones
Some things I know just in my brain, 
  they bounce and jiggle, hum, detain
I know because they're always there
  never questioned therefore squared
With what ever else I've read and thought
  true because no questions caught
My construct of the world without
  Absent questions, cancel doubt

But other places, kinds of knowing
  Have annoyings ways of showing
What I know in mind based steel
  can tansmutate, subsume and steal
The prefect world I thought I knew
And sheer its anchor to what's true

This, the world that now sets sail
Against the trust, beyond the pall

And into the shadowed and unknown
I walk to find what is not shown
  by electric, motes, suspended thought
That undetected world forgot.  

This, the journey wrapped in time
Safaried quest back into mind.

124.
The most ancient of human songs
Enwombed in tendriled thoughts 
  that shadow stillness not yet born
I rediscover harbored doubts 
  and dance in fragile, lightning storms

Body speaks with soul worn ease 
  and languishes with time joined plans
That leave the present place diseased
  ripped and sundered from the land.  

Enwombed in time and touched by death
  the voices speak, subsumed in dark
To tender hopes, once wrought in breath
  now owned as history, writ and stark

The chaliced holding that removed
  the lasting passions come and gone
Now blazing with the past's reprove
  their iridescent moment ages long

I float in passions honored wake
Waiting for the future's sake. 

125.
Lesson In Gnosis
Breath deep.
There is not silence there but motion, sound and light, 
  conveyed through coiled thought

Breath deep.
Listen to the blending chorus, voiced and well content to be and do, 
  unwinding inner binding into a future lost to you.  

Breath again, with deeply felt amends
Be the breath that rushes inward questing, finding place, 
 milked and taken deeper into space.

Hear your body speak.  
Not mind but body-mind that dances time 
  filled fantasies in rhythms touched by kind

Organs echo needs and plans
Each conscious of the others, wending paths into the unseen end of time
  They murmur, muse and mutter of the troubles found in the design

Unity of the sublime
Finding balanced dance in motion seated moments strung in time
They dance beneath the fabric of the consciousness within the mind

One is you, subsumed in tuneless toil
Tiny motes within the coil

Of the divine.  

126.
The Touch of Time
Time touches colors, mutes, extols, 
  the shattered patterns forward thrust
Thought time divides us from the past, 
  lending mystery and disguise 
  to place of mind beyond our eyes

Time, illusion, dimensioned tool, 
  perception bound by rigid rules.
Laws that fractured, shredded, sheered, 
  debased by calculated thought
  descended from those images not taught
Echoed in mind's consciousness, 
  bound to roil and distress

For while embraced within the void of time
 Minds regained their sight
And discovered that their essence, 
 wafted and sure, within the Light.

127.
The Last Poem

I wrote myself onto the page, 
  tapping straight into my veins
I waltzed and spoke, raptured, pained
  called, devised that I stay sane.
The force of you invaded, shook, 
  the world in which I've always lived
Delighting senses I had forsook
  I found that I'd still love to give.
Recalled from my forgotten core
  remade to sweeten, give and more
To tender thoughts and mind-made dreams
  That life had banished and forbid
These the things that love can give.  
  and these the promises redeemed.  

All of this and much, much more
  incited passions long denied
And in that harbored, golden store
  I found the substance of delight