I watched her
the pain in her eyes
the grip she had on the handle
white knuckled
slowly departing
caving to her mind
yet, feeling her heart
fight right back
tears wiped
smudged across her cheek
watching through
a rainy mirrored day
as she slowly becomes me
incapable of allowing
what her soul needs
Proof
Unconditional
Listening
I visited Devil’s Backbone last summer with my siblings. We almost missed the opportunity and I’m thankful we made the trip. What a wonderful surprise to come across Jay’s post. I felt instantly connected to the memories I cherish of Colorado. If you don’t follow Jay’s poetry you should, I believe. I’ve found he has a great sense of humor, which he rarely shows. I did the hard part. I forced him to talk to me and what I’ve found is he’s just the man I expected. Humble, yet, oh so ornery, I’ve found. Smiles. He’s a true poet. He’s survived a living hell and is here to show us we can learn to smile again. Please do me a favor and stop by Poet NbJ and follow his blog. Poke on him a bit. He deserves it. I’ve found authentic people are the easiest ones to support. He’s one of the good guys and tonight his photo comforts me.
Life: New Beginnings
Waking
Here
All I keep thinking
is I took you home with me,
from here: my world.
Inside me,
there is a rhythm,
a melody and a presence
I recognize.
Weakening into a strength,
inside this cool air,
allowed me
to breathe, to feel
and be myself.
The quietness,
awakening my core
as I heard the sound of love;
pure devotion, nothing more.
I keep this spirit,
this lead, and confidence,
close.
You’re thriving,
more than simply alive
behind my breasts.
You’re beating continuously,
effortlessly wild,
yet, this isn’t enough.
I belong with you, here.
I’m Not An Italian Poetess
Typical Monday, it seems. Tried making lunch, while writing my feelings. Epic fail ensues, as thoughts continue to pursue my mind. Forcing me so easily to forget the time.
Poet’s are always lyrical, definitely this one, it seems. I can’t get past writing this as poetry. Stick a knife in my side. Please, won’t you abide? My friends, don’t write and bake, unless burned pizza is all you’re willing to take. My wishes sincere, once again, don’t do both while planning to eat, you won’t win.
Thankful I have a few other attributes that keep you coming around. Like maybe my smile or even my frowns. Tears shower plenty upon these walls, oh God, stop her before she continues to pitfall.
Laughter begins, oh look, a grin! Yep, tis possible, she’s drunk again. No, my friends, it isn’t so. I’m just handling a Monday, so far as this one goes…
Loyal followers, stay with me, please. This is only going to hurt for a minute. Slap happy grins is how I’ll spin it, you’ll see.
***
She’ll never be an Italian chef
and poetess, too
just look at what
wandering thoughts
can do…
Writer’s multitasking summer,
kitchen’s a wreck,
lovely ideas interrupt
baking, for endless possibilities,
if only I would’ve stopped to check…
This homemade pizza now crisp
and slightly burned, tis true
thankful, in the end
this treat,
is simply a vessel for brew…
I should go back into the Houston sun. It’s just delightfully hot and humid here. Yeah, I know, I’m almost done. The end is near…
Yours,
Audrey
Where Is
A Breath Of Life
Hungry
A Plea
Reminder
Pink Velvet
Vintage Memories
Passed through the screen door,
Recalled the carpeted staircase,
Felt the pull of Maxine,
Grandmother, to me.
Twenty-three years, two months
Since we stood closely,
Right here
Packing odds and ends
To her,
Treasures, to me.
Cabinet I’ll never forget
Cookie dough testing,
“Needs flour, touch it, you’ll see,
Grab the butterscotch chips,
These will be Grandpa’s offerings.”
Sounds made when the drawers
Opened and closed, vintage whisperings,
Now upon my ears,
Fingertips sliding across moments,
Years.
Window gifting the same view,
advice,
Coverings, crisp and clean
Perfect place, for
Snapping green beans,
Twice.
Time to move the sprinklers,
Grab a bucket, strawberries to tend,
Summers without her
Still painful, something I dread.
Is There?
His One
Lavender chosen, breathe in,
often found crushed,
scent of live petals,
lathered upon skin.
An original flower,
leaving one wistful,
for Old World pleasures,
and a relaxing grin.
Here, a pastel color,
for a mini mighty bloom,
a gift, an honor,
radiating in royal hues.
A favorite, whispered a man,
he, instantly in love with her,
pondering, deciding,
while love remained true.
Solely: with no other witness,
during a quiet afternoon view,
he claimed her for eternity,
she sighing, as his One and only.
Affluence
Aerial
tranquility nearly impossible
fearful wonders seeking respite
mountain quarry pieced
fitting perfectly, breathes
fluttering ethereal
flights of the past
blue sky reminders
micro version moments
wishing on a bird’s-eye view
forget windless
courage wears fate
design indigo
flint aerial
***
I’m home, unpacked and packing again for another adventure. I’ve visited numerous states (including Kentucky and North Carolina which were not part of my summer plans), but it feels good to be in Texas again. At least a little. I’ll be leaving in the morning for central Texas, Hill Country and the Frio River.
I need time to clear my head and find my voice again and the trip here always seems to help. The internet connections are limited, so you won’t see me posting or commenting.
See you in a week. Hope y’all are enjoying your summer. Go find love and give her a sweet pat on the ass for me. I love you.
Yours,
Audrey


















