the first sketch

I slip fingers between yours,

a perpendicular cross of flesh

giving Vulcan kisses to your crevices;

we take turns peaking

at the naughty punch line, revealing

secrets from our own cache

of discovery under covers

in our bed time story telling.

Curiosity knows the body.

Composition #3

We raked away the fresh top layer until dark ooze of morphing leaves scraped the rake. We took our pitch fork and scooped then shed the composting earth into our buckets. That was the final layer to our installation. Swales and berms replacing cement, we created habitat growing again. We carried parcels of soil to the trailer and trailer to swale.  Elements in nature brought forward. My leaves left a few seasons did their work and we have some good earth deep inside.

Composition #2

I accidentally broke the canopic jar.

It went thunk then crack. A fault line

and fissure sent the milky remnants

gurgling onto my floor. My pinky toe

got wet. I was moving a box

from the closet. I forgot you were up there

then you came tumbling down,

your bulbous jar smacking the ground,

clinking

            remember.

 And I do.

The goo, sticking to my toe nail,

The aged tears, in a shallow grave,

wrapped in a shroud. Not sure what

to do with you, I hitched the loss to the post of memory,

stashed on a shelf, exposed to the elements

of my dim lit closet letting spiders spin

the epitaph. Until one day, tussled memory

met the ground.

You always were such a mess. 

a.r. morgan 

I accidentally broke the canopic jar.

Haiku: note to self

contrary to thought,
pearled gems of missing you
lies an unwise path.

sketchbook: Dad

In response to the question, what advice, story, words I'd give a new dad:

all those scribbled words written in a life time crinkled with my dad's name. our relationship is thus, the best gift i ever gave him was a simple framed picture of his smiling dog, Rocky, he saved from a dog beater while we were kids. My best lessons were learned from how he had us raise that dog. The other advice, Dad and daughter speak best in music passed back and forth between each other.

abstract(ing) feeling

off to bed. a double at work tomorrow. my spider senses tell me i have a surprise trip ahead of me. i think i know where i'll be early November. could we make it late?

i think i have control.
repeating to those loose ends,
frayed waves saluting the wind,
i got this.

set my days up between sunrise and sunset
sunset and sunrise
 swaying

i always knew this
        i know nothing.

a skew view

feel. that's deeper than i've been these days.
i could go for a little of that
i'm feeling. its there,
happy, excited, afraid, sour, sore, hopeful, numb, sweet lemony.
is knowing a feeling?
internal healing?
i don't want to go there

disconnected. reflected perspective
seeping into this mirror deep.
overwhelming even me.

so much praise my way these days, people
those external things that walk around me
and remember the things I say
i'm only seeing their beauty. and they keep giving it back
except

it reminds me i am connected. you. me. us. love is all i got.
all
        i
           know
                     how
                                to be.
  sometimes its crass. i'm too brazen.
i turned my curse long ago into a gift, my present.
this presence holding your story high
because i'm in there. liberated.
liberating you in me. makes sense, see.

lets dance, play and sing. tear down these fears and face travesty with a new thought.
it was there with the fear think all along. i see this, my inter connectivity sings.

its too much for me. haha.
 the tangled mess i weave to simply not see
i'm not ready to go home,
 stare down my mother's mortality.
and me, no feeling.

its there disconnecting.

its home, why would i ever feel anything? keep a page. lock it up tight. digesting. deer god,
let me sing

i'm going home. and i don't want to.
i don't got this.
i have no control.
at least i see.
witch     means
i got this.
this going sucks, but i'll be fine.
dam it.
gurgled sigh,
four-year old temper rant
upward-facing dog into adult
collapse in surrender

will someone just hold me?