Satin Kisses

“Love the Lord your God
with all your passion and prayers and intelligence and energy”

Mark 12:28-34

The sun blazed hot, molten, orange in my soul that day;
it was the day I said goodbye.
I looked at him and he looked at me;
I thought some more, and then began to cry …
Remembering satin kisses and the like.

Humiliated by my pointless defeat,
I slumped again, into my life of despair and pain.
At this point I knew he would go,
just like I knew nothing would ever be the same …
Remembering his hands, satin kisses and the like.

My feet were bone dead weary so long ago
that I cannot even say or guess how long. I just know.
I know this in the same way I know that I will likely never belong …
Remembering his strength, satin kisses and the like.

He was, and is, no ordinary creature of daylight
places or of simple male spaces.
Has more than I thought I knew,
of various names and complicated faces …
I remember gentleness without guile, satin kisses and the like.

He has left his lasting fingerprint
on the very fabric of my heart, and even my soul.
Leaving me to wonder once again,
if it is my place or destiny, to ever be whole …
Remembering with tears not soft, his satin kisses and the like.

 

 

 

copyright 2005 mds. All Rights Reserved.

 

Six A.M.

when i want to

hold my baby

in my empty arms

 

i reach across

i stroke the hair of

the ones before my eyes

my fist unfolds

it dulls this ache

left by tiny

footprints

 

copyright of poem and photo both: mds 2007. All rights reserved.

Saw 2017

Saw
or
A Study in Verticals

(whichever sounds more impressive)

Saw 2017 final

 

“I’m cutting tree branches off to build my log cabin” he says matter-of-factly.

“With my saw.”

I was alarmed, a bit.

Especially when he kept referring to his “saw” that Daddy gave him,
or that he found in the garage, I can’t even remember how it went now.

Until I saw what he was talking about.

(Not the one in the back.)

 

Sidelined

Menopause

 

Suddenly sidelined. Watching
toes shimmer beneath water,
others dance. Vodka bottle
lighter, and i wonder why
i am still here.

Is there a point?
Once feminine wiles
are beguiled into silence?

Is there a point?
Once curves begin to blur
into irrelevant geometry?

Is there a point?
Past the cessation of blood?

And I wonder why, I am here
suddenly sidelined

watching toes shimmer

and others dance

without me

 

copyright: m.d.s 2016
All rights reserved.

Up ↑