I Want To Hear Your Voice

“ I Want To Hear Your Voice “

The newborn ducklings struggle with soft slumber toward a peace where the wild water’s edge knows no fear … a space once spoken of beneath kiss remised promises of star drizzled mew … red and orange roses, sea foam lace ribboned in Armenian mythologies …

Garter snakes sun themselves upon old growth stumps in the morning … before humankind awakens, they copulate coiling slick cool surrenders on the spawny mosses beneath Lady’s Mantle umbrellas … Though their mouths will ever remain too unsubstantial to feed on the fowl’s wet lain eggs, their nest hidden in dawn’s memory of how we sought each other within this same warmth …

Time has been a cruel mistress, a mere flicker remains to the white moths my heart light has harbored for you … I do not turn to the darkness, even when the battlements seem to have taken you away … this time for a permanence I cannot bear … stealing my garden chimes and sing song rhymes …

The flitting willow bird’s nod, shy as it may be, longs for the life we dreamt of … berry jams and honey comb drippings from shared syllables, tonal tantric rituals, beholden to one beloved breath … a tactical onomatopoeia …

The Light cried for the Goddess’ cause banishing beauty to the Underworld … selective seduction abides now lingering where once the salamanders paused to gaze in the clear night’s smoky vapors … only Her wisdom remains in the valleys of blue bell springs or cedar swept winters … searching for coupling every molecule until love’s quest thirst defends, hope sitting unsheathed, mercy amended, awaiting the tongues of grace in fallen snows and ashen oven understanding … to Unbind hearts knotted by misconceptions …

© 2018 CDD All Rights Reserved






Oleander Greed

The catalpa pods dangle, hesitant paper laces in the hushed secrets of the Autumn winds … above and in sentry over the first blush cascades of promising rose hips, nourishment the summer fauns will savor come winter’s killing frost … slightness of the morning turning her palms in offering first testament … there uplifts a billowed lantern dance in unconcealed oneness urging the wood ducks to favor the openness of the lake’s center … thus, they ride on crystal carronades of split prism prayer parades … carnival red, gold, and green gleam … Soul drifts upon this thirst of suggestion, pagoda patter beneath cool bare feet, stone and moss married amongst calliopes with tender mints supplanted … silver bells kiss consternation pouring forth amicable intentions of reaching ignorance’s temple where rest no knowledge of ever knowing touch … the taste of mead and marigolds drunk with a dark silence met … I am your vital leech field, swamp to suckle mud fed seeds, thus, his milky and honey oleander greed.

© CDD All Rights Reserved 2017

The precipice of summer lingers …

The precipice of summer lingers lying quietly to the definitions we cling to … ritual eggs brighten rows freshly tilled by plow shears we forged from the last glance our eyes held with the starving peregrines on the ledges of the city towers … their children are dried to hollow dusty holograms … the tapping of a heart’s chain slung carelessly to trip the rainbow’s remains for their want of nurturing spittle … rain too far a distant dust bowl dagger slit in lamb’s wool absorption to quench  … we are vain, almost vulgar, in calling for a holy preservation of the child Self … the yoked sack membrane damp as the due we all crawl through eventually in suckling dread hours … the remainder of stains on duckling cliffs ruby~ing palms and knees … my toes turn in, Leo knows how it hurts, how the martin’s purple came to be … why  can’t we take our hands off the joy stick of illusion long enough to know … giving up creation to create with each other … for whatever time we are afforded by the roadside ditches or in marble mansions … ambling, rambling, or scrambling for its living breath … is by design a worthy purpose …

© 2017 cdd all rights reserved

NaPoWriMo 2017 #7

Glory’s voice, utterer, potter’s wheel clay culled of Crone Moon and Milky Way,

Starchild, do not seek tenders and hope amongst the colors of your visioned sight,

The heart who claims love yet, holds the darkness as for you a guiding light,

Captive, craven you shall become, as the raven is to the black he sought for envy,

Feed them not with green pools, copper lamp pupil gated souls. sweet glance or glare,

For turning away will their mechanism be, to fantasy, id and ego plated, awaited,

Delicious dishes mirrored selves, both snails and eggs and puppy dog tails,

Go out instead and dress the trees in this your lorn laced ruffled sleeves,

Arm fulls embrace, curtsy the leaves, kissing bark veins, cheeking mossy tellings,

Drawn water as if sapling springs from mountain thaws, awakening warmth in their further fruits,

Not yet even a bud of thought in a twig’s lonesome dreams, when Autumn sings,

There will be found the seeds, the husk for Earth and Star’s child to circle round,

Rhyme past thyme sleeping lazy in the summer sun swinging on the ripened vine,

Hop the creek, toes to minnows cool waters, and algae slimes as tadpoles divine time there,

Now lives for the beauty the children feel in their close and most precious Host,

The Voices of our souls can not express lest we sing the cellular Nature songs,

When we were and Who we are while dancing to Where shall we go next my friend ?

NaPoWriMo 2017 #6

Bella Rosa Dreams

(for all my Sisters who have survived to rise again)

I used to come here to write … to find some semblance of sanity in this otherwise maddened waking world … today there are people squawking venom at each other and pretending to call that love … love grows on a willow trees, from welts the flesh  pleas while tied fast to the briers’ sting … you’d rather Cerridwen’s swine be dragging you through the cold December mud than pray your hand defend you in the fight for freedom … for that child has every right to bear dignity … oh yes, it’s still the mind bend of whips and chains, the stare of wishes into coffin remains that will greet you each day … black nights spent looking for a candle flicker beneath the doorway, from some enchanted creature who stole through the gates undiscovered … to shadowing their light on a darkness of your poems … perhaps, she’s floating on a muddled puddle reflection … the moonless night left when he trundled off to bed behind the castle ruins … dragons of chained for eating the neighbors cows again… she found a slip knot and shimmied through to bring me a single ray of hope … to weave catching my breath through curls and carry quietly … for when it all got too blue we’d pull it out and blast them back to the hell from hence they came… Tonight though, be it night or day it matters not for light never reaches us here … I am bound about laid out and powdered, oiled, perfumed, and laced up to view … to skew … to pile drive with out even a word … Tonight I’m yours to do …
Your back gulching drum driven desires crawl scream tagged and beaten back down my darkest faith forbidden fathomless bottom hole … where I lay worn in pretty bows your mind assigns to cover tattered worn ash … where only hatred flames remain … the gains of piercing bores bite first my back flesh.. yes, gain your stronghold there, while you bust me from behind dig the very marrow of your finger bones though my breasts to the hollow my heart used to reside in before I let you dine on my self negligence … tear them from my torso if you will … I am bound … I am will less … rip out my hair if i would lend you my neck … veins to slice and suckle madly … red velvet love wine spilling over … flowing fount of your mouth’s gauge and the violent bucking you train my ass to follow or it’s more pain for me … my bound arms back about your neck … legs tied wide you could stand with me if you wished … if you dared … I am surrender in every language a man every sought to teach a woman … since he found she could subdue him with her selves … If you get greedy enough to lick the blood running down my spine in a Kundalini serpentine candy column crimson velvet … wings will sprout from your wounds and I will grow horns upon my raven black head … i will spear you if you dare give me an opening … for We are the daughters of Goddess, her hand maidens … born to the breasts of the Valkeries when the Our Father sought us too eagerly , too soon, too sickly for his wounds …

© 2017 cdd All Rights Reserved

NaPoWriMo 2017 #5

Luna Love

The foul leave feathers for me daily in trails to gather … from the barn to the Iron Wood tree stand yonder … at the crest of the meadow hill flanking the logging roads … crevices are home to the Luna moths and moon beams … their winter homes in the catacombs … Christmas past’s silent seed pods … the morning stars descending from the heavens … holding ground bound cocoons in blessed rest … assured peace till April came with lip-less kisses … the caterpillars have hatched … soon there will be more to save and shade from the sun … their short life and love expressed in a quiet transmission … souls hear eons apart …

© 2017 cdd All Rights Reserved

In the Land of Paper Cranes

Honor reigns as the code of the rain in the Land of Paper Cranes … the unspoken behest of Grandmothers nurturing the world eggs beneath celestial capes of eternal down … flight wings of Spirit pressed between the woodpecker’s page gown lining their nest with light as children palm innocence … Here the bamboo moths quiver spun and quest, their life span willing metaphors … our fragile vapors searching for ignition in this land of forbidden flames … we all remain silk worm pupae attainment … where upon slip current pale veins often succor lotus stamen perfume and dreams die … sea, land, wind, or water fowl born demure and azure cored are we all … the truest trowel beak bill to web footed alliances yet descend from ancient egret masters … parchment creased folding crisp mountains to beg a valley’s hand … paisley kaleidoscope sand hill dancing twixt marble eyed maybes and wishes on the wings we are … those who want the breeze to take us gently as a duckling … bounce love on its knee until we all believe or leave the pond to those who … origami light by stardust mirrors when night has awakened hidden hopeful smiles …

 © 2017 cdd All Rights Reserved