one by one
Posted in Crimson Writ, Poetry on December 4th, 2015 by D'jaevletime is measured observation
I mark mine by your breath
unbidden or coaxed
in ease or labored
promised or stolen
I count them all.
wired in
Posted in Crimson Writ, Poetry on November 13th, 2015 by D'jaevleit is no terrible act
when you fit so well
in the cradle
of my fist
it is no terrible word
the one that starts
with me
and ends with you
(on your knees)
it is no terrible promise
rope, a bed, and you
bared
wet
mine.
it is no terrible price
we pay
to have it
but the hunger I harbor
for you
is terrible
and great
and smolders
like the acts, the words, the promises, and the price.
not pumpkin-related
Posted in Poetry on October 9th, 2015 by D'jaevleTwo roads diverged in a yellow wood,
and neither did I take.
pricked by bramble and bush,
I rambled through
counting nicks with bloody glee.
Stepping over rot and splendor,
hidden temples of bugs,
no clearing found, no stream followed
just branches snapping like weak limbs
and I, crawling, walking reverent on dying leaves
a hospice for trees.
if this is decay
it is sweet.
movement
Posted in Crimson Writ, Poetry on June 6th, 2015 by D'jaevlethe creak
under my feet
when you kneel
the ellipse
of your hips
a gathering
(tightening)
of your hair
between my fingers
sunset
Posted in Poetry on April 18th, 2015 by D'jaevleyou are the kind of affliction
slow to heal
and
uncommonly
beautiful
a sunset
all reds and orange
perpetually disappearing
(and almost always worth getting up to see
at 4 in the morning
when the rest of the world
is smartly sleeping)
betwixt
Posted in Poetry on December 4th, 2014 by D'jaevlebewitched
by your smile, of course
found first
in your eyes
‘you’re hiding a devil’
said I,
‘somewhere between your smile and your words’
no words now, nor smile
just a grin.
‘Come find it’, it said.
winter excuses
Posted in Poetry on November 28th, 2014 by D'jaevlethe problem with winter
isn’t a problem at all
cold invites behavior unbecoming
in summer days
because she asked
Posted in Poetry on August 29th, 2014 by D'jaevleif you think you are as fragile as glass
remember this:
I’m not afraid of your sharp edges.
in fact –
each time you break, I will place your pieces in my pocket
and when all that is left
is sand
I will gather you in my hand and gently send you across the world
until you are a desert, and I a cool wind
and we can sleep beneath the stars
with and without
Posted in Poetry on May 8th, 2014 by D'jaevleno, she said.
peace is not stasis
or silence
it is not an absence of experience
it is an agreement the heart makes
to have, without greed.
to love, without bounds
to be, without fear
without rest, without fear
Posted in Poetry on April 25th, 2014 by D'jaevleI find I go through life
with either
great patience
or great desperation
I sometimes wait.
content to watch the shadows
stretch and retreat
beneath my window
and sometimes
I am overwhelmed by a great need
to move.
or experience a hunger
like Cronus had for his children.
I do not see the sense of walking
when I can run towards the sun
or stand still
and let the world
come to me.