player haiku
first, you touched my heart
i let you touch my body
you stopped touching both
A spoken word piece that I wrote for a performance poetry class at Freehold. A smattering of what I find holy. Here’s the text if you like that sort of thing: Holy is the heart-shaped divet at the top of a mountain in New Mexico and the snowflakes that let me see its outline. That…
they chased after elusive rainbows thinking the colors– (the shimmering wonder!) were outside of them. one day, they woke up and realized they were light itself and the game changed. they did a spiral dance together luminous brilliance (refracted wonderment!) in an infinite sea of grace
invited in but always careening towards something (careless footsteps) skin throbbing from the sting (and not wanting to forget) the pulsating rhythm of blood rushing to the point of entry bathed in sunlight, the clenching stops while quiescent clouds gather rich, mellifluous enchantment moments and memories stitched together (everything in his house has a story)…
your three to my one the amber and the red twenty five cents and a vibrating tilt-a-whirl you spoke of carnivals and dark, dusty paths that lead to where we need to be (to peeking behind the boards where darts come towards our hearts) popcorn with truffle oil meaningless meetings and Hoffa screwing and killing…
us i am slow to embrace this word it feels confining i don’t trust it i fear that i will be swallowed up in the “u” and chained to the “s” with you the “u” feels undulating the “s” safe i see nothing in your hands or heart to hurt me i see only the…