past tense

because I lived in the moment
I could not remember my past
or you, or the facets
of my emotions - the cutting of which
at the timing I recorded
painful, full indeed with
words of the you

and that you
I placed as gem to behold
to cherish, vowing timelessness
and I suppose purpose
beyond occasion or a longing
called forever -

ever after had my heart lined up
straight
clutching a dance card - not bearing
your signature - the choice was
monumental
to live with the present tense
and love you
or move into the future and lose
its knowing

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

Posted for One Shot Wednesday

and for Magpie Tales

tap-rooting

there are roots
everywhere - clinging to life
i too have a few
deep within, buried
far from light
still - believing it is there
(light)
above
the surface

my skin appears here
too cold
to allow tap-rooting - the formation
of green, ice
holds it back
as it claws to pull itself however slow - up
believing

in divine
sun soaking in acceptance to
bath me
to promise soul
of a bud, budding life
far from a moist darken middled earth
born
of  a personal surrender


bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011


Posted for One Shot Wednesday

commercial break

i put my life on pause
for a much needed commerical break
the filming of it
the playing of it pulled at my soul

rewinding i found myself
in a supermarket aisle, staring at
Brillo pads and reading the flavors of Kool-Aid
still framed life
black and white soon after
melting into colors bleeding internally
with a passion indivisible

being alive i called it
calling the shots i mean, the moments magical
proved with a meaning defined
the earth turned her face
towards the sun - everyone looked
everyone listened
everyone appeared alive, youthfully
beautiful

i evolved from
decade to decade, i gave, i was given

i laugh inside out
listening for the last kernel of popcorn
to signal

commercial over....

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

counting syllables

i am not here in fruited falsehood
the sky will not let me
lie straight up

there is wind in my hair
and it layers truth upon my supine soul

the ground becomes alter
and sacrifice becomes useless
to redemption - a vein split wide open gathers
rain washing the self clean
a false prophet could not have laid me here
prostate to torrent, callous
of imperfect timing - counting
syllables....

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

holographic library

it was a course in miracle
my philosophy, but miracle

one
solemn

a filtering of a singular telepathic
moment
reflecting all canto, strophe
vespered mellifluous
to present - to premonition
of a holographic
library
in virtuous harmonic
accordance

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

Posted for Magpie tales

aqua-blue heaven

spiritually green
i raise my hands
to an aqua-blue
heaven

spiritually leveled
palm of hand prays
for a heighten breath
till capillaries of a praying heart,
brilliant bright, boldly - burst forth grace
attest...

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

Posted for One Shoot Sunday...Photo by Fee Easton

the ghost of me

let's speak primal
of lust and sex - primal
of mud and mating, clay
to form

salt it and call it image,
call it good - this is the (I) manifested
maturated, ripened
yet never whole - wholeness conceptualized
is forever unknowable

the (I ) of womb has shed
ghosts of me times-ed over - as (I) forge
barefoot

the earth takes from me
wash my face,
trim a brow, the
ghosts of me flow to the sea gods
to the wheel of my makers
hand

(I) can see self
beating against a rock faced
shore, floating in blue gray, grayer cumulo-
nimbus filled wet, wanton of release; (I)
consecrated to
stone - touch, touched knows of me

as the (I) knows of you
primal replete with limb, sweating
secrets wept warm, salivated, tasted
of bodies un-whole - filled (I) you unknowingly
to carry the ghost of me - as I
carry willingly - a ghost of
(You)

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

ascension

i have chosen
my own ascension - prior to the a pouring
of wholeness - central
motifs are the newest in religious wear

i have focused
before on cause and affect
on existential thought
timed thin, threaded - practice never being
perfected in
my minds eye, holding straight
my worldly downfall

baptismally i drowned
dead in my own rebirthing - last rites
administered as crawl never
quickened

reconciled i reincarnated
self, solidified
to a matter of course
holding a separate sanctity of knowing
a collective parting of Ways
illuminated; leveraged in wider a spectrum
side stepped the
personalized purgatory, scripted as
elevating

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

Posted for One Shot Wednesday