Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Throat swollen : tears welling up
Nothing left in the sky’s hands
All water had been dropped
Mourning the loss of lands

Flooded near the fault line in the desert
California is sinking from all the underlying
Waters
Land turned to dust

Grapes of wrath
Cannot speak; feel kind of weak
There is a couple of guys jamming under a tent in the neighbors yard
Singing in Spanish I
In the rain
They are happy over there
This side of the fence
There are flowers growing
One of them is a mystery
Cleaning my feet
Heart will not beat regularly
Like the rain falling
Where we meet
Shapeless in the dark
Out in the street
The heart settles at the bottom of the lake
Woke up with a belly ful of Fire
The flowers sing along with the wind

I cannot breathe
Eros cries on the shoulders
The smell of love is like a faint memory
Like sweat and sweet tastes
Inside the space we held
I loved you

I hesitate to comment because I think/feel you got more to add to this poem
a glass soul, I want one of those too

Heart will not beat regular

spooky

You know me well...

as we age the past and the present collide
in ways we couldn't possibly have dreamed of
and we do our best to handle these opposing decades
with grace and humor..........some trips are very sad.....
it all seems necessary for some reason

I trust you felt like a heavy weight was lifted off your body and mind after spilling these words, always a good way to self-heal the wounds of the past.

Take care...

The smell of love is like a faint memory

"It's hell over the ridges, where the hell is all that groundfire is coming from?" - a quote from a chopper pilot I knew, Vietnam, 1972 - hang in there, Jana, may we live long enough to call these the good ol' days -

please pardon second reply'

glass hearts are fragile
poetry is crazy glue for shattered hearts

Oh you all save me thousands in shrinks and doctors-

I am happy I feel anything at all- I’m sure I busted out of death s grip a few times already
Been on worse dates
If ya know what I mean

Periwinkle is starry night by van gough s choice of mysterious- a sky that suggests other workings
Somewhere out there
But here/ my grandson is about to be one years old
I get completely nuts over baby moccasins and children learning to walk and talk

Thank you all for this place to warm
My soul

These days
I savor every moment that
I can remember
And even the things I have forgotten or forgiven
I cannot let the problems

Over crowd my mind
I have some more time