My Toe plays peek - a boo 8/30/11

      My sneakers, unlike me, lack the audacity to mythologize their life. They are simply insipidly entranced, not nearly human enough to comprehend the passage of time, or fear, or the onslaught of the fragility of it all. They are leather and cloth, as each morning I choke hold them, in a tight embrace of the laces. Their life, held firmly in the perfused smell of a wretched sweat. I push them harder, then they need to be pushed, them, being compliant in the exertion.  Each one, one more step closer between heaven and hell, as leather reshapes on each step of a stone.       
   

Stolen Glimpses 8/29/11

 The natural temperament of my sneakers today, a slow and steady pace. Just enough cool crisp air, as a deer studies the bone structure of my face. Terracing down towards the river, sun organically falling from the ceiling, I bath in the rays. Birds with elephant ears grab hold of my whispers, as chosen secrets spill in silent confession.

Pelting Rain 8/28/11

 The offensiveness of the wind, as the storm rolls over my sneakers, laces left abandoned at the door. The outside air becoming a lost city of sorts, broken into pieces, and then glued back together. Limbs, trees, bones, scattered, I find my thoughts cohere around the waterfall spilling from the sky. Sneakers sit, ornamental, there is no way out, only in.

Storm Clouds 8/27/11

Sweat , a sort of medicinal cleansing, a red antiseptic poured over wounds. The morning light is shady. Humidity and desire an inside -  out tangle on my flesh. I swallow dry, as my pores drip. I know to keep moving, if I stop, I'll wake from the euphoria.

Mirage 8/26/11

Someone speaking to me directly, asking a question from the other side of somewhere, as I pick up my pencil drawing answer across the sky. Clouds roll in from above, my indicator of silence, in the coolest of morning air.  I'm thirsty for the taste of my own salt, feeling amorphous, like a cloud or the ocean.

Sullen Clouds 8/25/11

The drone of air dissolves in the gentle splashing of water that cascades down my flesh. My sophisticated drip by drip irrigation system efficiently delivering water to all my roots, as leftover spills from my pores. My feet meander the path, as sullen dark cloud bursts form in the distance.

Atonement 8/24/11

The abyss into which nighttime has fallen, as daylight brings the cleansing. A little reckless, almost righteous, honey beams cascade in a direct hit against my shoulders.

Self Portrait 8/23/11

The goal to return transformed, each new end, proves to be my gift of engagement with every crossroad reality. The sun now twinkling through the slightest of branches. The solitude of the dirt path, profoundly empowering. Serendipitous diffusion, as my senses allow me to make sense out of the cool air which now floats along my flesh.

Detoxing 8/22/11

In depth conversation, gentle detoxing, on the cusp of a saturated breath. A chiming of bells spills from my windpipe, as life no longer beige, but a tapestry of color, today, a Chilean red.

Mindless Floating 8/21/11

I think the birds in flight call my name, as their simple melody begins to paint across the sky. Sun bright, breeze flat, my body remaining in perfect symmetry with breath. Remarking at the timelessness of the hill, as sweat bathes over my flesh. Anchored in the view of my conservatory, droplets hang from feathers of the trees, each bead of breath sitting on a throne of air. Indulgent in the stillness of scarlet breath. A pair of birds in full animation, escort me to the river's edge. I am inside and out, and outside and in, all in the same breath. In reckless abandon, rearranging whatever journey takes flight my way. Rain and wind of yester -night pitting me in a wild place on the edge of darkness, as I run through mornings new found light. Air bitingly crisp on soothing repetition of steps. I am floating on a wing and a prayer, as sweat forms on the indulgence; sneakers behave in another time and place.

Slightest Touch 8/20/11

Cool morning air, falls upon my shoulders, catching the "bittersweet" of life's surrenders. Times of holding on, times of letting go. Sun streaks through last night's sullen skies. In a heated embrace, my sneakers launch onto an isolated path, enclosed in a morning mist that falls like rain upon my exposed flesh.

Bird Song 8/19/11

I think I hear the air move, steadily fluttering across my back, a calm pushing my body forward.  Listening only to the beating of my own heart, as I close my eyes to the rest of the world, rejecting even  a momentary thought. The heat in my legs having a voice of its own, as I step rhythmically through the pattern.

Salted Waters 8/18/11

 As soon as I move, I hear the sound of the waves, the sea now appeasing my soul. Curving pathways echo off of large standing stones. Vowing to just stand in this place and 'be', a moment of solace, as dawn breaks on the closing of the moon.

Silent Waters 8/17/11

Forever reminded in the silence of the trees, of life's turbulent waves and gusty winds; always cautious, as the water can be bitingly cold and the currents notoriously strong. The sun, the color of fine red wine, a touch of decadent color flourishes amid the hypnotic effect of passing clouds caught in the corner of my eye. Everywhere my breath finds me, walls are adorned with my serene canvasses, as thoughts explode against a ribbon of sky. A thousand miles have past amid a freezing wind....and here I am, here I remain, among copper walls and an antiquated china blue scroll of sky. Do I dare attempt to run tip toed over the horizon, or in a thunderous clapping of my feet, so all can be heard?

Quietly stepping 8/16/11

Quietly stepping into my artist eyes, as glamorous hues of pink turn to gold upon the sun rising. Framing poetic verse across the sky, not so much a desire for me as it is a a necessity. A deep yearning to appease my soul, as I try to listen with eyes closed, to hear the sound of a distant sea, somewhere.

Slothful Puddling 8/15/11

Stripped down to flesh, coated in rain, serenity now. Sprawled on breath, eyes closed, I concentrate on the surrounding sounds: trickling rain, rhythmic whisper of breath, strains of sweat carried on the breeze. Braced for the interruption of the puddles, as my feet enjoy the reverie.

Self Indulgence 8/14/11

 My sneakers as boats, as I navigate the flooded streets. Rain pelting, piercing shoulder blades, like electrical currents traveling the whole of my body.  My breath caught up in the shock-waves, as my body submits to the punishing. Torrents of rain filling my sneakers,watching water crashing, as the mapping of the pavement becomes my idyllic middle ground.

Twinkling Stars 8/13/11

Leaving behind the twinkling stars of night, as moon shifts to daylight. Standing in this place, no words needed to speak, quiet is all I need. Strong hands of the flowers standing up, sometimes, when I can not.
I swore I would ask the birds, but words just don't come easily. How to part the clouds, to find the silver lining, a poet in paint, as I float.

Acceptance 8/12 11

 In the science of survival it is the acceptance of the reality of my life, and the will to live each day to the fullest, that I purge from my sneakers. A life span measured in weeks, months and years, with the ability to reach acceptance influenced by the quality, meaning, and value that I place on my life. The only certainty in life, is that it will end for all of us, eventually.

Running blue 8/11/11

The air so calm this morning, it's a song poured down my throat. Chimes left in the wind, jangle at every corner. Sneakers echoing and sputtering up the hill. blowing each breath back, as if I am filling balloons.

Razor's Edge 8/10/11

The sun's rays like a tip of a razor against my skin. Spanish moss hanging like hair in the morning air. The air, familiar, angular, less humid. It is as if my sneakers are now carrying me. The force field lifting just long enough for me to hear the voice of the bluebird.

My Riverbed 8/9/11

Spine surging forth from the anchor of my legs, pulling so far back into my body that I do not know who I am, my breath, the thread now weaving mind and soul.
             

8/8/11

High a top a tree, a solemn bird in a lace collared red shirt bears a poetic offering. Glinting with
barely - there sun beams extending through. The catalyst, something deeper, driving my breath in the heating of the morning air. The bird in red coat now resting on my shoulder, a release of water from my pores, not certain of the tear releasing from the bird

Naked Breath 8/7/11

Stuff that is off center or off - kilter, that has its own inner life, implores me to use my imagination. Having a quite obvious affinity for the things I like, and a fearlessness in my composition of style. Compositions restrained and harmonious, always evolving and adapting to the passage of time and the changes in my life.

Indigo Blue 8/6/11

What was once bold here is now subtle, what was energetic now calm, seemingly completely new, pushed in different directions, amid muted shades of pewter, silver and gray, sky is transformed, exotic thoughts strewn upon a gray linen wall.

Thoughts 8/3/11

From one end to the other
nothing to hide,
as the sea takes shape
along the sky
a moment or two
self disappears
under a cloudless sky



elegantly patterned palettes color my thoughts, as I breath in a capsule of borrowed time.

Rasberry Pink 8/2/11

Poetry of summer in champagnes and raspberry pinks, channeling my layers of movement. Do I run, or do I float ? Moments are clouds in a photograph. The turning of a page, facing away from the sea, breath now fully inhaled. My arms extend as wings, as my voyage hungers to happen. A prayer for silence and fertile rain, as stillness becomes my sneakers instrument. Year by year is still unclear, yet day by day I find my way at the interface of runner and wanderer. Clustering diamonds of breath precede me. Thanking my feet for the miles they have tread, and the profusion of sweat frozen in time. Closing eyes to see, sun on my back, as legs draw closer to conclusion, clearing cobwebs along my path.