Sleep with the Angels

I slumber at the wakening,

tasting the luscious licks of the unwrapped

lollipops, sparks of sun settle

through frost-wintered windows,

white toes chilled against red circulation.

Morning cat meows plead of attention,

circling the unchanged litterbox- recognizing

her own beloved stench. Upstairs

the flowers sing like honeydew- “Me

and Bobby McGee” as we drove

to the scorched heat of Pheonix.

Sitting under moonlit tents, sanctuaries

of bodies held together by blazing fires,

conversation blends as easily as baryonic

matter in the cosmos, sparking brilliant neurons.

The night cold wore us like a blanket

of damped packed sand, the piercing

coals of envy and beauty embered

asymmetrically into the stars like soft

epiphanies. I swallowed the wood-burnt

smoke and ingested the amber flames.

Duerme con los angeles, mi amor,

feathered pillows spoke softly in accord

until the honeydew flowers chanted

the confined lullaby.

 

j.f.

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When I am Weary

I heard imaginary ailments-
whirling dervishes dancing
with one hand pointed at the sky
and the other at the ground.
Such dismal feelings however
do not often persist in the clear
light of morning, when
you are young.
Many are the thoughts that come
in lonely musing;
leaving no trace of existence.
I walk home to tranquility-
the trees are still bare, the buds
still hard, cocooned.
Appear- an impressionist scene
of a rainy night.
It accretes in layers under
my skin and knits my pores tight.
A hideous sense of pursuit
sometimes comes chillingly
when I am weary.

6th & Lincoln

Giant moving monsters
Red, White, Silver, Gold.
Other vehicles
of souls,
walk around, pedestrian-like
Some with signs
made of cut-up boxes,
box lettering etched
into the cardboard.
Pleas of help
in the form of money.

Humankind
Both
Is what it says.
Human. and Kind.
Humankind.
We’re all here,
sharing this world,
this planet,
this ground.
He hands her
a bag of food.
We’re all the same,
me and you,
him and her.
We come from
the same place,
the same space,
born into the same world.
But we’ve forgotten.

We’ve become careless,
ignorant, impatient.
Do you ever
stop- cease
what you’re doing
every once in a while
and look-
just notice-
what’s happening around you?
Do you ever appreciate it?
Laugh at it?
Cry at it?
Just be in it,
apart of it.
You already are,
sometimes it just
takes recognition,
and the world
becomes a more
beautiful place.
Your problems seem
a little less
significant
when compared
to the bigger scheme of things.

It makes me smile.