postcard from the caravan...

it's the beginning of spring and after the long winter, i've decided to take a break -

so, the caravan will be parked for a while -

i'll keep the campfires burning bright with warm thoughts of you till we meet again -

until then -

peace and love

gypsy

elle dit adieu -

but
her
heart
could
not
forget...

the gypsy wakes...

i woke up this mornin'
wantin’ some
soft mellow bliss

some snow white happiness
didn’t wanna hafta dress
with banks of icy drifts
up against my front door
from down at the floor
up to the roof

 yeah, i woke up this mornin'
wantin’ that bad ole’ blizzard
to have come and gone
way ‘fore dawn
leavin’ behind its powdery flakes
like sparklin’ diamonds on a silvery lake

 

but much ta my dismay
i woke up this mornin’
to a dark dreary day
all yucky and gray
rainin’ and rainin’ some more
wet stuff galore

i woke up this mornin’
layin’ here on my blanket of red
dreadin’ gettin’ outta bed
but dreadin’ stayin’ in it
cause you ain’t here
ta hold me near

yeah, i woke up this mornin’
wantin’ some
soft mellow bliss
so come on over now
come on over and
 

gimme

a

little

kiss

.

.

.

and so it grows...

 and so it is
the cycle reclaims

its past and future

repeating reduplicating recapitulating

the fallen heroes submit

in crimson veneration
rendering resigning reconciling

their mother trunk
deprived once more
robbed raped ravaged

with barren branches
limbs and stems
requiem reposes remains 
defoliation complete
at autumnal equinox 
regrowth renewed rebirth 
and so it grows

phantom limbs...

 lust defined
flesh on flesh 

 

love confined 
thoughts of him 

 

draped ‘cross her mind

like phantom limbs

.

.

.

to passion, butterfly days - and keats...

i almost wish

we were butterflies

and liv'd but

three summer days —

three such days with you

i could fill with more delight

than fifty common years

could ever contain

to reach into the other...

we listen to words

so we can silently

reach into the other

~

 

- this is what i want to do with you -

with my own words - with my poetry - with the images -

with all the things i place here in this blog and my other blogs -

 

i want to reach into you

as you reach into me

.

.

.

so, just....

 dance me

last night i was unable to sleep and as i lay there

with the full moon my only companion, 

these were my thoughts

of

you

then love me here...

if you cannot love me there

there
in the land of life and breath
then love me here

here
in the land of indigo blood
and velum flesh

here
where your caresses
scorch this parchment skin
here
where your lips
meet mine in crimson slips
here
where words unspoken
are screamed in paper dreams

here
on this paper
where the ink flows
like the rivers run
to my heart

 

here
.
.
.

~ hear these words spoken ~

on nights of golden moon...

.

.

.

the road may call your name
but i still whisper it
on nights of golden moon

i keep it in my box
of things that mean the most
and take it out at times

to hold it to my lips
to savor it once more
as if each time the last 

and in my heart i sing
loves sweetest song to you
the one that calls your name

so i can whisper it
on nights of golden moon

so i can whisper it

.

.

.

.

.

.

last night i had a dream and in that dream

came someone for whom these words were written some time ago

- and i still call his name on nights of golden moon -
and think i always will
.
.

boston rose - as told by "the rose" herself...

this is a song i've just heard from a friend's place - a beautiful love story of two lovers destined to be apart - it is sung magnificently from the man's perspective as here in this video - but i thought it might do well to be heard from her perspective - from the perspective of the rose - and so, i have played with the words a bit and put them together as i imagine the rose herself might tell the story - enjoy:

~

‘twas a night like any other night in her life save for the magnificent full moon watching o’er her as she slept -

the same loving moon as looked down on him, there ‘cross the emerald isle -

him - he who had taken her heart with just the stroke of his pen - he who had stolen it away with his indigo ink -

and that night of the magnificent full moon he came to her in dreams -

he came to her as fully as if he had crossed those big waters and lay there himself beside her -

whispering into her heart all those words only sung in songs before -

he had come to bid her a fond farewell he said and he told her of his leaving, of his journey to a land far far away – a  journey only he could make -

and  under the light of the moon he whispered that he would ne’er forget her while he’s away – 

that on those nights when he’s alone,  he would think of her in visions from far far away, cross those emerald isles -

he would think of her with a fire burning deep inside – a fire no one else but she could ignite he whispered -

and on the nights of full moon in the heavens dark, as he flew gently by, he would look down upon her and call to her through the sleeping sky -

and so it was – that night of the full moon last that he came to her in dreams – a dream from which she was unable to tell from reality in the light of next day -

how she wished that he were there – with her – but she knew that’s how life goes -

and so it is that she, too, would wait – would wait for him – would think of him with a burning fire deep inside and on nights alone, he would come into her mind – into her dreams – from there, ‘cross the emerald isle –

she had no doubt of that – nor doubt of his return – for, after all, he – the one who had stolen her heart –  the one who had flown away with her beating heart through nights of indigo ink, he - he was the mighty phoenix - the one destined to return time and time again - and this time, to her -

and she, well, so the story goes, she was the girl who lived south of boston -

 

- the girl he called
his rose -
~

you wanted me...

you let me be
the things i’d long forgot
held me close untied the knots
without a scheme without a plot

you gave me back
who i was before

but didn’t know no more
the one who’d shut that door

you got me back on track
of who i used to be
who i was to me
the gypsy wild banshee

you wanted me

keepsakes of a gypsywoman...

things kept
things covered up
keeping things

one of a kind
trinkets of time
trinkets of mine
now just a shrine

once tucked away
not to be seen by the light of day

things i kept
as i wept

pieces of mine
pieces of time

threadbare thoughts
kept for naught

a ring of love left unworn
lives apart shredded and torn

a string of words left unsaid
love unlived left for dead

a strand of memory left unfilled
might as well have all been killed

things i keep
while i still weep

these are the keeping things
things covered up

keepsakes 

for my heart’s sake...

the choice...

On this narrow planet, 

we have only the choice 

between two unknown worlds. 

 One of them tempts us -

ah! what a dream, to live in that! - 

the other stifles us at the first breath!

to walk under trees...

why are there trees

i never walk under but

large and melodious thoughts

descend upon me?

the gypsy weeps...

eyes in midnight velvet

black jet

tamed by no man yet 

soft breasts of alabaster silk

with skin like soft creamy milk

 

hair spread like raven wings
when she speaks the gods do sing

lips all pouty and shimmering wet
she lives and loves without regret

spinning webs in ribbons of light
laid in shadows of darkest night

                  

 secrets hid in her red red heart
yearning for a love not lived apart

wish she did with all her might
but life alone is her sad plight

and so it is in the forest deep
the heavens sleep

as

the gypsy

weeps

the game...

she could not run

she could not hide

from all that haunted her inside

strip away the woven webs

of all that dormant dread

and all the monsters that she fed

when to the devil she had wed

and even then

from her own den

she could not hide

she could not run

from what in sin she had begun

it was a game

she could not tame

.

.

.

to my friends in egypt...

 may the rising sun bring you

peace and love

~

you are in my thoughts

~