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Gaia Soulmates
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SheSpeaksTheFeelingOfTrees : Indian Ink, Bee’s Wax and Pigment on folded Paper18X25"   I heard you speak in Deep tones of Shadows Blue across the edge Of the field All the while The sound of chatter From the poolside Children Playing And you softly swirling Sublime silver leaves above me   Or was that you Roaring With the dead dry leaves Through the City alleys That night After the lights went out?   I stood in a seedy doorway While dark clouds Covered the moon Remembering The kindness Of the summer you   The still Midnight White marble cold Sand drift dunes Of our Soft animal bodies Sleep To dream dawn again
SheSpeaksTheFeelingOfTrees
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EntracedDance : 22X30” Watercolor on paper   I’m not sure what to do when you love this much, when you desire so much life-blood flows down your legs in pools at our feet, An African dance The drum calling in that push away from me Pull me into you sort of way The ocean singing in soft tones And crashing In tears Leaning against the back of couch Because I needed that bit of distance Lest I just get drowned in the whirlpool Venus dressed in barnacles and neglect That wisp of hair Across the gap With gentle fingers Before the drum calls For something more beautiful
EntracedDance
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Picasso's Rose Period Eyes :   30X40" Watercolor and Indian ink on canvasStanding in a doorwayRight passed the over turned garbage Can with vegetable scrapsAnd cactus hearts Spewed outSlinging an old guitarShoutingTo no oneTo anyoneWho will listenIn a tiger striped outfitWild hairLike some soapbox preacherTo an unknown god of oneWe pass byAs he mutters"It's Halloween everyday for me"So unlike SandyAnd her serial monogamyBoy,girl,boy,girlPaperdollsCactus heartAnd vegetable scrapsLeft behindOn Mission streetThe scent of rose incenseDrifting through the open windowWhere"Jesus loves you"is written in SpanishAnd you know I love youWith all of meAnd I would say it more oftenBut it's just too big andIt takes a whileFor me to travelTo someplace whereI can actuallyTouch you with this desire
Picasso's Rose Period Eyes
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Wooden Dragonfly :   WoodenDragonfly28X20" Watercolor and Indian ink on paperWooden DragonflyThin wood like an oldWeathered clothespinThat spring motherWas hanging the laundry outAnd the light like it would never end,That moment.Unlike those twoLatched together so wonderfullyPurple-blue on the impossibly green grassAt Pinnacles.And one wing shorter then the otherSo it can't really flyOr if it couldIt would go in circlesLike a rowerWho has lost an oarOn the morning lakeBy the grassWhere the dragonfliesOf dusk Tease of promised love.So we could walk This night beach so serious gazingFor magical stonesFor East (birth, yellow-green),South (Ocean, youth),West (Fire, older now),North (white of winter, black) andBuild our alterEncircle us,Spiral in like dragonfliesIn August LustOr we could just laughKnowingThe magicIs there alwaysAnd we really don't know how to flyBut in our dreams
Wooden Dragonfly
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