After the warmth is gone.

Shiver shiver oh the coldness of the bamboo mat
isn’t doing its duty when the night air is cold, and I need some warmth to
lull me asleep. Where is that snuggling bird to regulate the heat?
Take away my excesses of energy, adjust my mood , and keep me sane.
Can it not be that I’m drinking too much. Coffee? Caffeinated drinks, to spike my consciousness into overdrive, limbs are trembling out of my control. I am sensitive. Too much. I cannot bear anymore. Sweetness begone! I cannot have you. I have other things to do and you are not among it in my to do list.


Wheels on the street.

Spokes, circles, round spirals
Supporting weight, light and heavy and all in between.
Taking the people places
Here there somewhere nice
time is nice, the view is more so fruitful with a cup of ice tea.

Moving day.

Even though its the start of a new month.
Vans, trucks are out on the street
Carrying the belongings of the people
from A to B
There is not the blue flower cheer and merrymaking
the caravans of moving to new places
rush to make the move quick
for the people want to resettle into a new abode.
The cat is at home,
not moving for I am already home.
At a place where I can be found.

Red String

There’s a red red cord that only you and I can see.
It winds around you in circles tightly but not enough to bind you. Only one line extends from you to me a link between you to me. No one can see this. Its our connection that we know exists. I can call to you by tugging on my end of the cord, sending silent messages in hope that they reach you.

That line between you and I is as long as it needs to be. Sometimes its a meter, other times no space at all, and at times on the other side of what I know exists. Over that horizon and a few more is you. Living, working, knowing of this faintly present bond. A round circle on a wall marks the hour, counts down the time till that line shortens elastically to zero.

On space between


Space between buildings.

Space between people.

Space between objects.

Space between the air, the molecule, the rock, the dust, the cement.

Space between things to be swum between with our gaze, our eye.

Space between the dark and light.

Space between the positive and negative.

Space between you and I.

Space between the sky and the earth.

Space between two things in existence, with a side of no-man’s land.

Space between things.



Photo is mine

Hanging doors and framing the passage between spaces

The morning called me to do

something that I haven’t done in awhile

frame the space between two spaces

the public, the common, the shared,

the private, the cave, the room,

and the space.

I do wonder what will this space look like when I finish?

Since I’m the finisher the end result will be clear

when I am done it is ready.

Ready to be lived in,

ready to create new art,

a space to play, relax, and find comfort in.

A space to love another.

A home to call my own.

A home to share with you.

A beautiful place to call ours, and

share again with others.

Laugh in pleasure, pain, and understanding of the punch.

Would you join me for a meal in this space I finished?

The ends were given to me,

rough, unfinished, raw ends sticking out

here, there, and everywhere

but I’ll still find you

since whenever you are near

my ears perk, my heart dances, and I’ll feel light

bubbly, and I’ll flutter inside

Come home and share with me some of the time you have in the future.

Where I may just be happy to have you near me.

And for you to happy is my desire.

Welcome home love.