Kimmie's Rings......

Smoke wisps past fullness of lightly glossed lips
lingers round fresh clipped fingertips
forms grey rings in darkness
one second past midnight…
Tiffany ring on fourth finger,
tightened by the rushed flush of blood cells
flowing from my pocketbook
to my heart then back again
it’s echoed beats
forms golden rings
passionately curving my
heart’s thoughts ‘round your soul…
somewhere there is a
tenth generation sapling
growing within and into it’s
destined rings
a million miles from its’ origin.
a descendant of the first seed
that fell from the first fruit
slipped from the first she’s
curled tainted and tinted lips
from the
first enticing bite...
the first circle of life
the first of the first
lasts
loops,
plummets
then buries itself
into the thick rich soil
encircling our first mother’s ankles
covering her toes…
it grows in the shadowed remains
of obscured providence
when G.O.D. once saw us as he saw himself
and we saw ourselves as stars
orbiting moments and eras,
before falling from grace in this space as human…
and I am stilled.
grounded.
can look
above below
right left
to and fro
and still see…
the inception of heaven
the birth of earth
in the warmth sphere
illuminating from the doe brown in your eyes.
the glow of your smile
the vibrant colors that
circle, swirl and burn
just above your head.
you are not a cliché’.
I’l l never refer to you as my angel,
simply mine
I’m not saying it’s a halo,
but, there’s a ring,
ringing, beaming, gleaming, sitting
slightly crooked above you head…
and it is calling me…
channeling me
ringing me from sweet slumber
ringing bells
ringing and reminding me…
and I’m listening…
listening to the ringing resonating
in the hummed ring
ringing rhythmically with the sway from your hips
the hummed ring
of sweet summer stickied bitterness of forgotten love
the hummed ring
from aged and aching bended knees in prayer..
the hummed ring
wringing tears from my pained love
and I’m searching for
my being, my truth,
I’m searching for
my mother’s hazel eyes
and her waning influence
in the fog hazed rings
encircling YOU,
my moon… my star isolated in
my light burning so brightly
it convinces my mind it’s blinded darkness
There are rings ‘round Saturn
marking moments
marking time
like infinity and destiny
You and me.
YOU.
My figure eight, eternal…
Ringing, singing, being,
Looping like a good bad love song
Over and over
Black vinyl skipping,
Penny weighed needle on a
Circling Victrola
Bass booming atop
Rims and 22’s
Stilled spins at concrete cracked stoops
speeding toward yesteryear
There are rings in tress,
Counting perpetually,
Unyielding never ending
Coming full circle…
Like the curiosity of my hungered tongue
Circling your nipples, navels and things
There are rings
And they are ringing
Ringing chimes
Rings ringing in mind
Dangling from ears
Circling our fingers
A circus!
Our three rings
I’m swirling in circles
Following, examining rings
Rings on stomach, hips and things
proof of life…
Your ring,
My ring
You me, connected indefinitely..
You an eternal flame
Scorching inside me
And the smoke…
Escapes with the words
Swirling from the rings
Buried deep within me…

kdtaylor, 2009
section 8 coffee
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