Wednesday, July 12, 2017

poem 7.12.17: for HDT on his 200th birthday "breathless, reckless"

a sense of dreams and romance-
I miss,
so predictable.
The world is so full of broken humans,
like the lonesome dove said,
but pretty to look at,
and structure is beautiful and everywhere and meaningful for
said boned and fleshed and bound and broken humans to receive and
yet
this woman's heart
longs for freedom and mystery and
a bit of a dance

summer morning, oh, you,
so full of color bubbles bursting on the dew,
do not forsake me to the dusty city
full of half crazed lost souls

let me taste your wild berries
drink your clean, cool water direct from the stream
(now, direct from the source)
lick the sap of your honey
sit at the

tired. so tired.
the trees dance
i do not think they dance for me

we've been faking happiness so long
we think maybe it's real

but nature, nature,
NATURE,
I AM THY BRIDE

I have promised you my whole heart,
my soul to your four winds,
my name to your rushing waters,
my labor to your nurturance.

I may be a mystic poet in a Hollywood woman's body and mind,
but at least for a little while,
before I am the dust of the city myself,
breathless, reckless,

I am alive.