Category: Mirrors


of dancing Mother with Angel child
tortured nights
visions voices venom
not my own.
lone Wolf
wild gentleness born of power
watching guarding offering circling.
I feel the protection he offers,
reassured, trusting, I continue.

I mix the colors of my nightmares
violently wantonly smearing crimsons
too impatient for a brush
I feel them between my fingers and my canvas.

The Flames grow higher
burning the edge of flesh and fabric
I watch as they dance to become.
Leaning back on blood red hands
I question this painting
Who are you
I ask the woman rising from the flames.

I feel dark eyes on my flushed skin
tasting tempting calling
Locking eyes, spirits, with the Wolf
I search for answers, rhythms, meaning
He wears them beneath his skin I know

tell me
I whisper to the universe

Hands Of

i close my eyes
i see the hands of a musician

every place he touches
my skin burns,
pressing itself into his hands,
moving without thought
rising to meet,
to beg, to know, to claim,
his touch

my body becomes an instrument
played by the heart of a musician


How long have I known, and repeated
artist on her soapbox
Art is process, not product
the journey, not destination

My own words echo in empty space
how sure of myself I was

I search for the eroticism of blank canvasses
instead I find fear

I stare into mirrors
looking for the one who created

what is lost

I am hiding, embarrassed by my grief
mourning bits of digital soul
while children starve and bombs fall in my name
by what right

My litany of greater evils
fails me
My grand philosophy of artistic theory
mocks me
My work
deepest passion, cornerstone of Self, temporal markers of my life

is gone.


caught me by surprise.
Finding me
without my usual gown
of self protection and silk.

You saw through my
words, images, dreams,
and touched
a woman alone.

You held me
in your magicians hands
feeling what I could not say.
I wanted to run
to refuse to look,
but saw myself in green eyes
and could not leave.

This reality is not
the one I have known.
You lead me
into an unknown ocean.
Frightened by its depths
thrilled by its possibility
I follow you,
fighting for breath.


I see faces in stones
         bodies in
         passion in fountains
   and dreams in your eyes

when you talk about music
  your skin softens
  your eyes turn to green
  your posture changes,
  you reveal
   desire so deep
It is the current that carries you

Has no one ever shown you
you, taken from you
tides of dreaming
    or cherished
      the waves that flow through
      when you create
what only you can hear

Do not wait.
teach your children
         and mine
to live each gift
to offer every passion
to Be
nothing less
      than what they Dream