Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Ouch, Signs Of You

I don't take suggestions well. Some suggestions are like this....well, son, we are here in this airplane, the door is open, you got the gear on. I suggest when you go through that door that on the way down you pull the rip cord...like that. It really doesn't matter where I go, there I am. I have the same trouble. Here's one version.


I bumped my noggin.
I was among the wee folk
On my last project.

We were building with bluestone
Aligning earth with heaven.

They told me to wear
Mercury's gold winged helmet
But I was too proud.

I really am a sap. Don't really care. I fall in love across the room routinely, just have learned not to do anything. But I love the idea of being in love, and I also like writing from that place, from reaching into the places in me that come to the surface when the goddess is in my life. I can smell her there, just behind that door. I can hear the song she sings under her breath while she gets ready for what comes next.

Signs Of You

Being short sighted
I don't see you as you come
From the far corner
In the mirror of my mind.

I am blind sided by love
When you caress me,
Fondle my dreams with such care,
Leave me signs of you.


  1. Happy Knew Year, Christopher, and thanks for opening a crack in the Northern Wall for us to squeeze through.

  2. And I hope you will find all well in the coming year. The crack you write of feels more like I constructed a door and flung it open.

  3. Hi Christopher. Happy new year..
    I feel the same way about love it sure makes us men feel pretty goofy. Hey, I wouldn't want it any other way.

    Have a great up coming year...

  4. George, indeed. I never think twice about it...OOOHHH this is going to hurt, or long shot, this is going to work....I'm going for it. The rush is too delicious, the dream too sweet to miss.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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