Monthly Archives: April 2015

The Need for a Lover

Posted on April 28, 2015 by skipavm@gmail.com

The difference between loving outwardly and going deeper and deeper into the anthology of my life is that of a need for a lover.   Of outward and inward, one is always a lonely journey into the past, the other, … Continue reading →

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Writers Jihad

Posted on April 28, 2015 by skipavm@gmail.com

Hence this writers jihad… We’ve become modernists of belief, infused with the fear of punishment taught to us all our lives; we take the whip, milk, and honey from the “hands of God” as if those were the gifts of … Continue reading →

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Lost in State (autowriting)

Posted on April 18, 2015 by skipavm@gmail.com

Lost in state, no where to go Everywhere to be In you the earth In me the sea In us a world Made from the melding On a grouchy road the seat bumbles. A tad of money for them a … Continue reading →

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Birds of a Song

Posted on April 18, 2015 by skipavm@gmail.com

    Rain paths brush clear a sky to stark beautiful disclosure I listen to her notes of doubt, softly Singing through the azure With doves ear, low, I listen on for another who perchance is a muse, perched atop a pendulous pen Swaying … Continue reading →

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Waiting for the Mulch to Arrive

Posted on April 18, 2015 by skipavm@gmail.com

Saturday morning, waiting for the mulch to arrive A particular pattern of a bird chirps as I compose the chantey water striders stand still on winter fountains parting tear expresso, cupped buttered oak steams flavored expressions a poem before the poetry … Continue reading →

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Seamless with Light

Posted on April 16, 2015 by skipavm@gmail.com

Only beauty grows from this visceral ache, like a seed pushing up through the earth of your chest When a heart takes root into the abyss of the self, then Multihued flowers can lift high in the welkin The pain … Continue reading →

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Sisters of Darkness

Posted on April 12, 2015 by skipavm@gmail.com

Her eyes are the sisters of darkness Whom, upon their hearts, glisten starry amulets of the night. She speaks not, listens For his word-sparks to ignite. One wish for what we lack, a prayer for what we deserve… If he … Continue reading →

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Morning of the Madrugada

Posted on April 11, 2015 by skipavm@gmail.com

While I press my palm to hers, I want to complete the world our fingers folding into the fabric of skin Aching to taste the tongue of my lover To wash away the flavor of mango, So that I’ll never seek … Continue reading →

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Men Entering Women

Posted on April 11, 2015 by skipavm@gmail.com

He tried to tie her to the bed with the clothing wrangled from her writhing But it was he who was ensnared by her flesh. She laughed at him as he became impotent during the battle. It seems a man will wear himself out trying to … Continue reading →

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Words are Rolling Stones

Posted on April 11, 2015 by skipavm@gmail.com

Words are rolling stones that clatter in the stream of time. Any of we, parched or quenched, sip at the waters edge and listen to them purling and purling, sublime till their edges rounded by translation turn rock to sand, like grape to wine. Precise … Continue reading →

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