Words

When I Am Done

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When I am done, will you have known me?
Seen inside the empty spaces, overseen remembered embraces, known my fear’s personal faces?

When I am done, will you have heard me?
Bright joy over small things, know when my laughter rings, which songs I often quietly sing?

When I am done, will you have seen me?
The ‘me’ I see, the me I aim to be, the me that only others see?

When I am done, will you have felt me?
Shared finger touches on baby skin, trace my face where wrinkles set in, warmth of my body as the days begin?

When I am done, what will I be – to thee, and thee and thee?

~SMK
Inspiration – the passing of a co-worker today, the loss of a quality person.

Mirage

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Mirage

We peer as if behind delicate lace-work to soften
Need – weighted with a terrible tinge, puce maybe?
Whispering aches only heard by wall art
Behind cool darkened doors of solitude.

It appears in couched terms
Divulged in metaphor, spun in rhyme
Shrouded in lyrical prose; mirages no one sees but
All see, in this overcrowded desert of bodies.

Emperors all are we
Scribbling in our invisible clothes, startled
If spotted behind our woven illusion, when
A fellow wanderer drinks at our mirage to slake thirst

Relief echoes in vibrato, rapidly rushing
Shell of pretense cracked and shucked, into
The refuse bucket, delicate innards shimmer, anticipatory
And rush we, into shared weaknesses and frailty
-Need nestled against need.

~SMK
Inspiration: The life of writing.

The Soliloquy of Sea Glass

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Click  below to hear reading

The Soliloquy of Sea Glass

Discards we are, emptied of value
Cast aside, forgotten, meaningless
Our varied hues bartered no regard
In being retained, kept or refilled.

Some shattered while some whole
Stripped of purpose, riding hither
And yon upon the global currents
Which we could not control

Our original intent was consumed
Then invalidated by our abrupt release,
That weighted existence forced
A downward path into the dark
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Sheet Music

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Sheet Music

If I were a melody in your mind, how would you write me?
In Adagio perhaps, as in the best way to approach.
Would you linger over Staccato, to match your heartbeat in my presence?
And although some may prefer Delicato,
It seems best paired with Appassionato, as two hearts enfold into one.

With tempo written, how would then you elicit my sound?
Gentle finger strokes upon ivory, scaling the highs and lows
Lovingly drawing a bow long and slow across heartstrings, echoing
Would you form the strong embouchure required of the reeds and brass
Or be the pounding, driving force holding together the pace found in the percussion line.

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Juggle Not

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Juggle Not

Click here for Audio Version

I was busy juggling all of the expectations

So I didn’t see what there was to see

Or where I was going

But only where I thought you thought I should be going

 

My traveling clothes were always ready

For whatever you could envision

“I’m there” I’d cry excitedly and off we’d go

To someplace foreign and exotic designed by your mind.

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