I Left My Hat

Forgotten in the moment,

bent in a pentagram

for that first kiss.

Our collision was complete.

Geometric.  Reciprocal.

I wore it home on the tram.

It concealed enough of my eyes

to steal sideways glances,

while our hands became absolute.

Then I knew there were hats in heaven.  

Romantic notions.  Miracles. 

When it was time to go,

I left it behind on purpose,

next to the trilby at your door;

knowing I would be back

to the golden ratio,
lasting result of chance.

tk/May 2015

R.A.D. breathes life into my words...

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Explicit Cake

Progression of days playing

in a constant loop,

a marriage of minds.

The loop is safe;

just what we take,

walking all that is left.

Time hangs in the air.

Oceans dry up.

Paths wind in sentences,

give rabbits chase,

willow to climb.

Curves follow a mutual train,

pause for picnic lunch,

explicit cake.

Done with doing, I wait

for the loop to be installed

permanently; with no way out,

a cul-de-sac. 

tk/June 2014


Scrumptious read by R.A.D. Stainforth...glass of wine with lunch...

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Inked

Bows and arrows rise

in blue-painted memory,

whisper secrets in a language

that no longer exists.

I am compelled to tattoo

Pictish letters on my skin,

preserve the modern heir

of a distant arsenal.

Midnight ink voices

another century,

another continent;

marks my rite of passage.

It tells the story of us:

connections and parallels

in endless equinox―

a barcode to identify me as yours.

tk/March 2014




R.A.D. Stainforth considers a tattoo... 

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