[Scribbles] The bath, and a walk in the woods.
The Bath
streaming off the moving form,
an atmospheric change
clicks gears into motion,
like igniting a gas flame,
there's focus.
in the reddened flush after,
I imagine you would
be like the slow pour
of vinegar into oil,
and then emulsified.
to feel that this is special,
that this functions uniquely,
is to validate my hubris,
delight in the cloying heat
of this refreshment.
the heat and skin and give
is incomparable
with synthetics,
or casual touches
when intent stirs response.
the dry calm of forearms,
and residual tingle
raising hairs and
bringing heat to surface,
in the lightest flush.
insatiable senses
deepen perception
of how items drape and
form and contain and and hold
and drive the addiction.
The Woods in Spring
Firecrackers burst into blue.
Heavy blushes alight white cheeks.
In dull shades of desert sand,
grass and bush invite combustion.
Gossamer strings hang between leaves
with the dead suspended below,
caught in the action of falling,
still until the wind comes to fight.
Spindly arms with flounced sleeves
have silver needles shooting up
in sun like strobe lights made mad
by the speed of transferred energy.
Yet below and in hidden nooks
packs of dark green fluff are scattered
secure without roots in shadow,
plump and dense yet dry as carpet.
Notes.
(1) Aug 20, 2012 + minor edits tonight, out of my moleskine with writing I cannot read. I thought it was a morning farm, for example. Ugh, still struggling with the stanza order as much as I did around 4 am, when my brain wouldn't let me sleep even though it had been thinking about it since around 11 pm, but whatever. Fucking hell, I realize I'll only filled up 6 pages in the last year.
(2) Sept 15-21 , 2012 - incomplete since there is more to you know, the world, but I can't find more stuff I like and it's been taking me forever to think of words for things I wanted to write about, so this is what I have. My adventures in harvesting moss, essentially. Made a cute terrarium. And yes, there were spiders involved. It was not fun. Ah, and first stanza. Yeah, I don't know the name of many flowers unless they produce things I can later eat.
streaming off the moving form,
an atmospheric change
clicks gears into motion,
like igniting a gas flame,
there's focus.
in the reddened flush after,
I imagine you would
be like the slow pour
of vinegar into oil,
and then emulsified.
to feel that this is special,
that this functions uniquely,
is to validate my hubris,
delight in the cloying heat
of this refreshment.
the heat and skin and give
is incomparable
with synthetics,
or casual touches
when intent stirs response.
the dry calm of forearms,
and residual tingle
raising hairs and
bringing heat to surface,
in the lightest flush.
insatiable senses
deepen perception
of how items drape and
form and contain and and hold
and drive the addiction.
The Woods in Spring
Firecrackers burst into blue.
Heavy blushes alight white cheeks.
In dull shades of desert sand,
grass and bush invite combustion.
Gossamer strings hang between leaves
with the dead suspended below,
caught in the action of falling,
still until the wind comes to fight.
Spindly arms with flounced sleeves
have silver needles shooting up
in sun like strobe lights made mad
by the speed of transferred energy.
Yet below and in hidden nooks
packs of dark green fluff are scattered
secure without roots in shadow,
plump and dense yet dry as carpet.
Notes.
(1) Aug 20, 2012 + minor edits tonight, out of my moleskine with writing I cannot read. I thought it was a morning farm, for example. Ugh, still struggling with the stanza order as much as I did around 4 am, when my brain wouldn't let me sleep even though it had been thinking about it since around 11 pm, but whatever. Fucking hell, I realize I'll only filled up 6 pages in the last year.
(2) Sept 15-21 , 2012 - incomplete since there is more to you know, the world, but I can't find more stuff I like and it's been taking me forever to think of words for things I wanted to write about, so this is what I have. My adventures in harvesting moss, essentially. Made a cute terrarium. And yes, there were spiders involved. It was not fun. Ah, and first stanza. Yeah, I don't know the name of many flowers unless they produce things I can later eat.