Touch

Sweedish House Mafia v Wil I Am v Cazzette - Beam the love behind




Touch is tricky
At times her softest
Trace
Might leave the deepest scar
As electricity sparks
Between the diminutive distance
Where even the molecules long
To caress
Or
Merely
To support


While
At others
Hidden
In the cloister
Of the two
Where
The most primal
Spoke the desperate
The animal
That was born of the heat
To savage
To pull so close
So tight
That souls could dance
And dance so free


Different times
Different touches
But don't ask me
Touch is tricky

Waiting on a train

Letting go of 2013




At first I thought It was a streetlight
Bloated
Shapped
Like a pregnant woman laying on her side
Unaware of the precious light within
Loathing her beauty
Or the change
Of day to night
Only to find
It could have been the moon
That shape
Knowing
One cannot trust their eyes
If the imagination is out of focus


The lion continued to roar
I had yet to face loves greatest lesson


The stationary refuge of
Art deco depot
Housing a homeless man
Who shivered in short sleeves
Arms tucked in
Desperate for shelter
Words sought release
Communication barks in statter step pace
Hitting a halting syllabic sing song
THACK-THACK "Not me, Not me"
I look
Am passed by
As I try to forget

The lion continued to roar
Snarling pace before
Loves greatest lesson


One had left
Before Delilah danced
In soft pirouettes
Turning
Forever in circles cycling slow
To return to themselves
Eyes turn
To the crossing gates signal
Of the oncoming arrival


But
The train
In two transfers
Would take me close
To a home
I longed to turn to
But never could
Although I knew
I tried to not let show
Loves greatest lesson
and letting go

Perfect Symmetry

Gypsy Kings - Amor Mio

In perfect symmetry
Her eyes danced
Like her voice
When she saw me
Rising
Falling
Sending sifting winds
To stoke passions fire
Her gentle grin
Always would end
Every line
Stopping just before
Just before the line
Then
With a mischievous rise
Leading my eyes
Back towards her
Longing to dance
Longing to caress
Her supple form
Wearing coy clothes
Consistently caught
In the balance of the reveal
What to show
And what to hide
In perfect symmetry
Her mind was aflame
Her spirit so strong
Yet
So gentle
So gentle
Her eyes sent
The sifting winds of night
Whispering soft seduction
In perfect symmetry

Crossroads

Tracy Chapman - Talking bout a revolution

Memory
The biggest liar
Calling to
To a land that never was
In the face
Of what could be
But
At the crossroads pass
The moment
Silently lingers
Waiting for the choice
The decision
The trade out
Or up
From a plasticine freeze
To the warm summer’s breeze
If you could only listen
Only dare
For its gentle call
Regardless rises
Above the frozen reason
The din of deceit
The new world calls
Always
In the moments
Silent linger
Waits

We could be heroes... Thanks Bowie

Heroes - David Bowie Acoustic

To correct the child and not crush the spirit is a good thing.  But to inspire that child to fly, to soar, to become… that is a nobility personified.  That is David Bowie.

A tiny artist trembling before the weight of the world.  Perhaps they had seen too much.  All that had been perceived as precious had been cast down.  Why?  Why should they try?  As if a punishment by the Olympian gods, the weight of the world crushed the flower that dared to grow in the sidewalks crack.  Not once, not twice, but continually.  Young Prometheus forever punished for bringing fire to man.  Shackled to the forge, his sweat would never earn redemption.  Frustrated to pay penance for a crime never committed he longed to lay his hammer down.

Then they heard it:  the voice of an encourager.  One who felt.  One who understood.  One who dared to defy the gods.  He dared to exalt in the victory of the small.  Stepping forward, forever stepping forward: the victory of being alive.  The sweetness that could be found in the bitter.  The pride that could be found in just one moment.  Do not focus on the fact that you were crushed, but revel in the fact that you grew.  For a moment you stood high.  Though you may not have known it, the world basked in your glory: if only for a moment.  And if the world didn't know, it was still your show.  A moment may be all you have, but meet it unabashed.

In the shadow of a passing shooting star, the boy looked up and smiled.     

Black Magic Woman

Black Magic Woman - Carlos Santana (remix)


Her spell begins
With
Movements matching beat
The undulating progression
The sultry retreat
Of her eyes
She cannot hope to disguise
The smile
Of seduction
Mysterious lips
Secrets longing to tell
But will her body
Whisper
In timed reveal
The twist
The turn
Heated hips soft curve
Exciting Nerves
As she knows
The collapsing words
Lie at feet that
Keeps perfect time
Underlying beats
The mix of cultures complete
My bewitching black magic woman
Smiles as
Her web of seduction
Softly spins