poetry

Day 199: If My Heart…

| Aspergers Girls

If My Heart…

If my heart were a river I would pour out and cleanse, cascade upon furrowed brow and kiss droplets of hope into cherished vase, filling the memorized grooves with relished joy

If my hands were a tiger I would romp upon you, creep into the caverns of your folds, where flesh hides secrets behind the woven mask of unrest, devouring the enemy of uncertainty

If my voice were a jungle I would swing from vine to vine, wrap you in canopy’s green until weary of delight, then slither and wind round your limbs with hissing desire

If my eyes were a waterfall I would forge into you, pounding with sweetness until with heated breath you collapse into the coolness of my welcoming, unsheltered in naked awareness

If my lips were a butterfly I would burst and fly forth to the nectar, escaping the dark fertile grounds to reach the narrow opening of acceptance, and merge there, face to face with delectable taste

If my body were a mountain I would explode from the fury of expectation, cutting a passageway through for traveler desired, the birthed fragments of rock my testimony of future gifts

If my mind were a raven’s nest I would shelter thoughts of the sun weaved through auburn hair, the gape of diamond neck, the peak of temple, the valley of chest

If my time were an artesian well I would spring forth and seize the last drops of love, and spoon the remnants into a symphony of water, where forever I would swim in the hallowed place of you

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By Samantha Craft, August 2012

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Day 194: Treasured Images

| Aspergers Girls

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I took the images at the 625-acre Mima Mounds Natural Area Preserve in Washington, USA. Soils formed as glaciers melted about 11,000 years ago. This site protects native ecosystems and rare plants and animals. There are many theories about how the mounds of earth formed. My favorite is the giant gopher theory!

This is an interesting video about the mounds:

and laughing…here’s what it looks like MOST of the year:

Images 

I imagine your voice as the sea alive in the deep night
A rhythmic strength, a moonlight lullaby
I imagine your presence the solid branch set across clear stream
A place to cross over, a passageway to the other side
I imagine your taste the ripe fruit cleansed and divided whole
A sugar to tongue, a craving reborn
I imagine your chest the mossy grass of midsummer
A softness to palm, a tingle to my skin
I imagine your hands the breeze through the evergreen of cedar
A visiting ebb, a caress between limbs
I imagine your lips the cotton candy of youth
A melting satisfaction, a spiral of sweetness
I imagine your soul the wings of the monarch
A flawless design, a freedom to flight
I imagine your movement the rapids over boulder
A cleansing crush, a cool rush of nature
I imagine your image the reflection in still pond
A mirror to myself, a partner to my imagining

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Samantha Craft, August 2012

Day 192: A Walk with Light and Shadow

| Aspergers Girls

The Light

You make me young again

Twelve or twenty, or someplace in between

I want to run and skip and sing, and be so free

You are everything to me, my sunrise and my sunset

The prettiest ones

The very best ones

You are the stars I count on

You are the clouds I dream upon

You are the ducks dipping, the ferris wheel spinning

You are the lights strung upon the summer tree

You are all that makes me smile

And more, so much more

I can’t begin to explain

It would take a lifetime or two

Just to count all the reasons I adore you

Your hair, your eyes

Your nose so cute

I want to nibble you whole and in completion

Bite through your sexiness

I want to run my fingers through you

Every part

And dance on you like some worn out disco floor

I want to tap and spin

And glide on knees

Feel your smoothness beneath me

And eat your very soul

The Shadow

Release me bloody panther of the night

The one I spear, who keeps rising

With claws to chest

Carving name into my flesh

I run and you follow

My scent, your prisoner

You are naught but heavy stones in my pocket

Backpack on weary shoulders

Silver spikes beneath my feet

A broken time piece

Your face a façade

You are unwelcomed fever

The torture of still birth

A labor of death

You are the stripe of the honey bee

The symbol of nectar’s sting

I will not be your dance floor

Your river or mountain

I will be nothing you move upon

You feed me not, whittler of bones

And nor shall I be your prey

I turn you mystic muse

To the muds of moors

And make the howling hound your bed song

Cry for me now

This light slipped through your fingers

So I might collect your tears

And spit them at your shadow

I am blood-dry to your enchantment

Fed upon the last time

To me you are the stinging nettle of pain

The poison oak of itch

The jelly fish of sting

In leaving I shall paint the walls of you

With my echoed screams

So you may sit now

And hear the wing-clipped raven

Crying in the attic’s mind

It is your turn

Of empty ghost

Your turn to grasp

And find nothing but empty cloud of drought

I will be not your star

I will be not your sun

Instead I shall step dark upon your grave

And kick dirt at your memory

My laughter, your sorrow

My victory, your loss

My hope, your awakening

To the world without me

~~~

By Sam Craft, July 2012

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The Walk

The following are photos from the bird sanctuary. There is a mile long platform that stretches across the wetlands and leads to the salt-water sound. There are hundreds of birds flying everywhere and adjacent nature trails.

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Day 189: That Moment

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That Moment

I want to be that moment

in a black and white film

when man pulls woman into his arms

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I want to be that passion

the lyrics in the love song

that leave you gasping

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I want to be that instant

when mother sees newborn

and souls embrace

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I want to be that sigh

as lost wanderer tracks

the sun dripping below ocean

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I want to be that completion

the final missing piece

of the perfect puzzle

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I want to be that reason

you sprint back home

to find what was forgotten

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I want to be that breaking

the mile-marker when runner weeps

and then pushes onward, strengthened

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I want to be that second

when one first beholds his beloved

and understands she is his answer

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I want to be that ache

the final line of a love poem

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photograph and words by Samantha Craft, July 2012

Day 188: You

| Aspergers Girls
Washington State Park
by Sam Craft

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You

I searched a thousand love songs

I thumbed through printed prose

I edged my mind round poems thick

All words that rhymed with rose

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In storybook or tale

The answer did not rest

And so I tried with might

To search through nature vast

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From animal to tree

From sky to crumbled rock

I walked from path to path

I tracked the soaring hawk

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In vain I hung head low

In sorrow and in shame

I had not found the answer

And had to start again

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This time I looked at art

Communicated form

To marble, paint, and print

To oddities adorned

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To everything that came

To everything I saw

I could not find the answer

Not hanging on a wall

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My legs they soon grew tired

My heart it gave a thump

My mind was spinning top

My throat it felt a lump

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How could I describe you

And show you how I cared

Declare my adoration

When you weren’t anywhere

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And so I found a tree

So very tall, and sat

And took a deep breath in

And thought of this and that

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I reasoned and I volleyed

I cursed and threw a fit

I hollered and I worried

And even gasped a bit

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Until the answer flew

Smack straight into my heart

And suddenly I knew

How to piece together parts

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I found you weren’t outside me

Not anywhere I’d looked

Not locked within the words

Of any single book

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I saw you clearly now

In everything you are

The golden thread of hope

My brilliant shining star

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A source that danced within

My ever waking dream

Inspirer of wishes

Interwoven in my seams

~

Sam Craft

July 2012

I’m kind of in a music mode….hehehehe 🙂