I promised you imagery
so here it goes
you are the color
of pumpernickel with raisins
delicately placed between lids
of the softest velveteen
followed by the thorns
of your lips protecting
the rose petal softness
of your tongue tucked
between the thickets of
mustache and beard hiding
and down and down
to the dry pool
of your belly where
once a salty sea
lay and further down
past the sleeping eel
and into the deep
darkness of your thighs
you are my nature
and I but a
painter with a brush
and this is the
you I see when
trying to remember thus
Author: Harlan Didrickson
I first started writing this blog as a way to refocus my thinking after a debilitating mental breakdown in 2008. Having been educated in writing, I had hoped that my love for words would have left a trail for me to follow and, well, here we are.
I
I can’t I
simply can’t I
don’t think I
will ever I
will never I
don’t imagine I
can so I
won’t do I
for even I
without you’s I
without us I
IFox
I remember or imagine
I’m not sure which
because the agony of
its missing is similar
this anguish often bleeds
like watercolors one into
the next this longing
for and also if
if we had and
also if we will
it’s delicate this dance
between past and future
but does very little
to release the gripping
grief of this present
I am thus caught
like a fox between
the hounds and hunters
TrickyThis
Never in order to
anything just simply be
for doesn’t the snow
just fall and when
finished doing so do
not others then do
with it other things
the snow never falls
in order to anything
when the snow does
what the snow is
meant to do then
and only ever then
do the others do
OneMoreMonday
And as the mountains
break free from night
like a fleet of
Spanish schooners off the
coast of England we
prepare for the battle
of this new day
confident that we will
retire tonight content having
defended what is ours
and defeated that which
tried to beat us
