PURPLE LATCHES

Friday, September 16, 2011

Like a blind man, he touched me gently. He touched the lips
of my smile as I felt his voice wrap around me like a fine silk
glove. He drank me like a summer's eve. The breeze brought forth
the murmuring of the leaves as he disappeared without a trace.
The white mist of loneliness settled over me

3 comments:

anilkurup said...: Passionate indeed.
And also just note what John Keats said
"The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest."; September 17, 2011 2:02 AM
Sandy said...: Thank you anilkurup. Yes, I recall that passage of verse from John Keats. A great poet/writer.; September 17, 2011 10:57 AM
Misty Veil said...: Sandy... I have felt this...but never read it like this..it brought to me bittersweet memories of a love that will not die....Your work is outstanding girl...you touch souls..x; January 30, 2012 2:51 AM

ERASE ME FROM THE BOTTOM

Each drop of ink brings an unraveling page. I am wrapped in thoughts of sepia. I am drawn from tiny eternities lying in wait. They peer at me from every corner of my fingertips. I watch as you walk through the threshold toward me. You slowly unlatch me like a locked door. I back away from the edges of my ink stains. I can not find my way out of this layer of paper. Outside, the wind is howling but not a leaf will fall because I did not deem it so. I did not write it nor did I willingly sketch it in place. My hands are mortal and seek revenge. I will dress them with nothing more than a ring of thought. I’ll watch you from chasm’s ledge as you erase me from the bottom……………

Barren

What then, shall I say? No longer can I button my mentations inside a circle of yellow? Inquire not of this circle for it lies within my domain....one that mimics the sun wearing the face of many ideas. You, on the other hand, sit upon your window sill, of nonchalance, while I stand at a fork of questions... a pathway of many wishes, thoughts, regrets and portentous ramblings. Shall I drown inside my own madness without the hand of regeneration? Grant these wishes so that my thoughts may become tomorrow's reality... Let not this dry place consume me I implore thee... I, like a woman barren, speak of fulfillment.

Life and The Tea Party

Life is not a tea party. We are plagued with fitful sleep; nights of unwanted dreams( now what is in the stimulus package) that demand payment; a cup of reality dished out in increments called hours in a day. We get up each day to sail through the things that make us responsible. We say the right words at the right time. We go to great lengths to acquire the right amount of education so that we may become the right person......(you know the reference.... they sit up all hours of the night writing new health care plans) For whom are we right? ( Democrats, Republicans, Third Parties) We all have an agenda don't we? We all have an opinion. We all know the answers, ask any political action committee, and we will settle it once and for all at the next Tea Party... Whoops...someone got booted from the BIG TEA PARTY`````` Big split inside Tea Party movement