National Poetry Month Day 7

Catch my eye and
crack my skull
drop your hook into my soul
take my love, take it all
I’m sure you’ll soon repay me

Ignite my heart
then raze my dreams,
the wreck is never what it seems,
and something more will grow there

Knock my aim and
cloud my sight,
steal my time and
spend my light
but leave me wanting more

The Old Barn

We sweat in the bleached bones of  the stable,
Which has stood a century, perhaps longer,
Where blazing manes turned and tossed,
And steely shoes beat sand to glass.

So long ago;
Now the white paint turns to dust,
The pillars slink into the earth,
The walls afford the sunlight,
And men know nothing of yesterday.

Yet here we are,
Man and woman,
Girl and boy,
Sweating in the bleached bones of the stable.


You are drifting,
Cool waters underneath,
Star-speckled siftings-
Calling, still calling
To sink, to give in,
To succumb, to drown, so easy
So simple.
The stars, too, reach for you
Always in sight, always singing
Praises of unattainable heights.
You’re so close,
So soon you’ll be there,
That impossible there,
With them, unreachable
The choir twinkles.
Just stop drifting,
Just stop sinking,
Stop doubting –
And rise.