Profound

20170703_082454When the truly profound is
discovered, it can be tasted.
The moment is a mouthful of
savory freedom. It is beauty
bursting on your tongue and
sliding down your throat
straight to your heart.
It is sweet, sticky residue on
your lips. It is an aftertaste of
memories that breathe.

– m.m.p.

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Blue

IMG_3817On the most hollow of mornings
She would stare up at the sky with
Open arms and boldly command,
Give me courage!
At once, a
Rich, blue madness would
Spiral through her veins and
Settle in her lungs and
She would find herself able to
Breathe again.

– m.m.p

Word Cage

IMG_7956A few dangerous, lovely words,
Precious, precarious, gentle birds
Have settled down and stuck
Inside my head.
I lash at them with a
Miserable little lie or two,
With a noise, a voice that
Protests against me
Chasing them away.
Either way,
It is no use.
It seems these
Words, these
Beautiful, impossible birds
Have forgotten how to
Migrate.

-m.m.p.

Love

imageWhy is it that
The more abundant
Love is
The harder it is to
Say so?
The more we care,
The more we
Hide our hearts.
The more we care,
The better we get at
Drowning honest affections in
Scared blue water.

When we walk away
We hesitate, our feet
Caught by an invisible string
That urges us to say the
Words we fear might
Slip out from our lips.

But then the line snaps and

We keep walking,

Walking away from the truth we’re
Terrified to tell.

-m.m.p.

Remember

img_4742She’s a shadow,
Singing softly, smiling slightly.
She makes up her own lyrics to the
Melodies she knows, and she
Keeps them vaulted away in her
Mind, humming them too quietly for
Anyone to hear.

She’s a shadow,
Slipping behind others in the day,
Filling in their footsteps with
Silent, ghostly grace,
Her hand leaving an
Invisible trail as it skims across the
Fogged glass wall that
Separates
You and her,
Her and them.
She is unnoticed, unseen.
But at night, she is everywhere all
At once.
There’s no ignoring her then.

She’s a shadow, with a
Secret name, a blurry face that
Dares you to
Remember her.
She won’t cry when you don’t, but
She’ll have a harder time forgetting
Than you did.

She’s a shadow,
Not just any silhouette.
I wonder if you remember
Now?
She’s yours.

-m.m.p.

Thunder Door

img_9769I no longer worry about the
Door slamming shut
Behind me.
Its deafening sound is
Not startling, nor its
Vibrations
Unsettling.
I no longer worry about the
Door slamming shut
Behind me.
Wood against wood isn’t
Too loud, it’s just
A cheap imitation of
Thunder.
Why do we fear that which is closed?
After all, it’s safer this way,
Locks upon locks upon
Life.
I no longer worry about the
Door slamming shut
Behind me.
I have become unaffected by
What that rush of wood
At my back
Means.
I hardly care if it opens
Again,
Really, because
It’s safer this way.
It’s better this way.
Right?

-m.m.p.