July 24, 2001

The Maze

My life’s a labyrinth, an unmapped way,
my hand a landscape with no lines to guide
from womb to funeral, too short the day.

Cat’s Cradles, once a game a child would play,
now roads, bunched into knots where terrors hide.
My life’s a labyrinth, an unmapped way.

Trapped in a maze of anger and dismay
I’m hiding in a mirror’s obverse side.
From womb to funeral, too short the day

You achieve my freedom, all fears allay
the knot myself, which you, with love, untied.
My life’s a labyrinth, an unmapped way

Love blossoms in a beautiful display
myself the rose who’s mouth ne’er spoke a lie…
from womb to funeral, too short the day

Life, death a highway with a toll to pay,
lessened by love that will not be denied.
My life’s a labyrinth, an unmapped way
from womb to funeral, too short the day.

Posted by Midus at 07:32 AM

July 16, 2001

Adobe Dust

Fine silt fills the air
visible in sunbeams
guilding the tiles
of the floor
decaying adobe
with each breath.

Posted by Midus at 04:26 PM

July 12, 2001

Winter Gloves

The Aspens glowed
gold and red
in the fading light
air crystal clear
and icy
mingled breath visible

I wore the gloves
you’d given me
soft leather
lined with lambs wool
supple and warm
enfolding every finger
like your hand.

Posted by Midus at 07:58 PM

July 06, 2001

White Muslin

She ran past me
Down towards the waters edge
Her white muslin shift transparent
in the sunlight
Bare feet flying
Scarcely imprinting the sand
Then casting aside her dress
She leaped through the spray
Revelling in the coolness
tasting the salt on laughing lips
Hair glittering with diamond drops
She raised her face and hands
Towards the sun
I lost sight of her in the sea mist
and the pounding surf
I turned and walked away
leaving behind my youth.

Posted by Midus at 07:45 AM

July 04, 2001

And All That Jazz

Mississippi river mist
swirls silently
streetlights throw haloes
of jaundiced light
fog rises from the street
the air is still
Notes from a tenor sax
sob for a St.Louis woman
long gone.

    She said Unzip me honey.
    In my memory
    her black satin dress
    slides to the floor
    and she sways to Ella’s
    seductive song
    reaches for the wine glass
    ruby red wine stains
    on smiling lips.

      No virgin
      but just for that night
      she was
      as I tasted her mouth
      of those jazz tuned nights
      we improvised,
      soared in random tempo
      yet all was harmony.

Posted by Midus at 04:49 PM

July 03, 2001

Midnight Blue

I wanted something special
a gift for one who holds my heart
so I took a shopping trip
in hope that I would find
a single item of perfection

I searched the racks and shelves
looked at the displays
until I found it hanging by itself
The deepest midnight blue
satin…smooth and sensuous to touch

I pictured it upon his frame
and felt my fever rise
No one makes a robe like this
unless they understand
the spirit of a man.

Posted by Midus at 07:11 AM