The intuition
Has taken its leave
And the head simply couldn’t care less
The heart, glitter blue
Threats to take its leave too
If the head will not hear heart’s redress
“The truth, head,” says heart
“Is you don’t know the truth,”
“Though you pomp and behave like you do.”
The head bows its eyes
And to the heart’s surprise
They join hands, intuition to pursue
I don’t speak the future
Though this I predict
The heat
It is coming
With the peel of each day
Beyond the fog
Over the rain
Like the flame on a fastball
Singed stitches intact
Test me heat
Ten more lifetimes
Shout my name as you do
Hear me cooling myself
Tell me who’s testing who
I am dust
You are dust
Gold Dust
Pulses rush
Pupils rush
Gold Rush
Opened flood gates
Hearts that know one gate
Golden Gate
In the deep, dark depths of the back of the closet,
Was the blue dress long abandoned.
Encouraged to remember its flounce and its flow,
I grabbed hold of a lamp
And decided to go
Find it again
Or get lost trying.
So what that I did get lost?
I found it hanging there -still nice.
And it fit and I wore it all day today,
Reaching down at my feet occasionally
To pick up the pieces that kept falling
From the hemline. Not a bad thing.
Holding them in my hands,
I recognize the pieces
As opportunities
To proclaim how I love:
The secret delivery of art as I peek from behind the curtain;
The tears that you leak, that I’ll never stop reaching to catch;
The laughter contagious, or the snapshot of it;
You, in red, refusing to wear the green I chose for you; and,
Me, as I keep collecting pieces of blue.
Too much
Water
Has fallen
Fallen
By-running-too-fast-to-the-edge
The edge
Where water
Hoped
To live
Just live
Wear pallasite cufflinks to tea
Solely so
That when you speak to me
In conversation,
And I hear
The soft, tenor timbre
Of your voice
Against a backdrop
Of silver teaspoons
Accidentally clanging
Against fine, bone china,
I’ll be reminded
Each time you lift your cup
To your lips
Of the laughable thought
That you are of this world.
The moment of truth
Is a when, not an if
I think to myself
What have I as a gift?
I could give my left
But I care about fair
My right’d wound us both
Me up here, you in there
So my best offering
Is what I’ve all-ways giv’n
A fine blend of saint
With some sprinkled in sin
Hey Galaxy
Give up your best tragic smile
From out of the dark look us square in the eyes
Like it’s the first time
Like it’s the last time
Kick out your knee and with one hand in your hair, use the other to calm down your thigh
Tell us you’re leaving
Part your lips and dare us to come with
Mere meters from me
A lone lighthouse
Must stand -it must
The fog its job to daze me
I close my eyes and long-last see
Standing there solitary
But tall
Sending out three calls
Hoping high
The no-longer-lost craft will yield
And find her port
What to believe in this fog
And it’s then
That I’m forced
To ask myself
Of what consequence is it to me
That winter wishes to linger
While elsewhere bares its shoulders
As I consider whether to be pained
By pinstripes wider than these
Or the loss of the starboard side’s oar
I recall
The daffodils that dance each morning
The strong Challenger on the horizon
The Saturday swims with a mermaid
Elsewhere, bare your shoulders
LisaRosier.com 