Dame Drought

She’s weaving lies on the loom of the skies –
The farmers know.
They know her dyes from old Julys –
The same winds blow.
She cleverly tries to dazzle their eyes
“your crops will grow.”
With hope of rain that will save their grain.
But they’re too wise.
Her shuttles clack but the earth grows black
And cattle die in the fields.
Warp says ‘clouds’ while weft makes shrouds
As she sings always of sun.
The fabric’s blue, no rain in view
Their farming days are done.

copycatting brian andreas

if your heart had a password she said, it would be peach cobbler or something but then he put down his spoon & kissed her. it would be your peach cobbler.

kid sister

sixteen stoplights & a sunset on the windshield
sixteen songs & the cadence of the wind
sixteen streetsigns crooked at the crossings
sixteen summers she's been in love with him

it's no use counting, no use at all
she doesn't see him stumble or hear him fall
she's his stars & sun, breath & bone
but he worships afar & sleeps alone

what's the game here, sister, it doesn't seem fair
what's the deal here, brother, some sort of dare -
it's driving me crazy down this long dark road
nobody's gettin' the love that they're owed

a refuge now in silence, in calm & much afraid
she shatters in the distance (the blueblood price is paid)
she waters all the garden yet leaves the ferry dry
she is a witche's bargain - listen to her sigh

it isn't spain or summertime, that cadence in her throat,
it's something dark & even, that grips with every note.
she's not some gypsy singer, and you won't get her to dance
but, as she's black as moonless hell, you'll long for her romance.

wrists above the table, eyes upon the floor
fire on the hearth & master at the door
run, you moonless river, run and fear no more
for, sure as heaven loves you, you'll reach the farther shore.

Is it so much?

i am not asking much.
i am not asking for the attar of a thousand roses.
i am not asking for your first-born child.
i am not asking you to climb a glass hill
or vanquish princes or outwit warlocks or sail around the world.
all i am asking is that you would grieve with me
and shed pure tears,
and grieve with me.

Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable. ~C. S. Lewis

"Sometimes I feel like Mario when he falls into the room that doesn't have an exit. But from time to time, I have this feeling, almost a thought, that says,"Maybe everything's going to be okay...huh?" - B. M.