If in a Parallel Universe

if a me took every road proffered and

if one day all those roads converged and

if each me pierced the veil between the worlds and

if we met face to face

what would be the sum of we

Old Adages have Rules (Haiku x 3)

some don’t know the rules
pay mind to what you are for
not what you’re against

minds don’t discern if
you want it or don’t want it
its focus is it

and it you will have
adages have earned their age
ever proving true.

Rushing through the days

count the moments
til tomorrow
it will be here
soon enough

count the days until winter
it will come in its
own time
none the sooner for
your worry

recall the past
yes
call it back
no
change it
never

En Point

superoxide dismutase
épée - foil
focused synapse - volleys fired
warriors forth.

Immortal words

there are mouths and then there
are mouths and some
will talk for talking's sake
of good or bad of true or not
and there are some who just forgot
and opened theirs when
they should not.

words are bombs
in the heat of moment they can fly
and the harm they cause goes
ever on
unlike men, words are immortal
they cannot die, only be forgiven

Time

throughout the empty reach
of space
I reach
to catch the glimmer of a long
dead star
still shining down to reach
my eyes
and cause my mind to wonder
if somewhere in the infinite reach
of space
some child of mine as yet unborn
does reach
to catch the glimmer of a long
dead star
known to me
as sol

Keeper of the flame

she fans the embers
she, the keeper of the flame
our very life's soul

no roaring fires here
mere flickers hither and yon
subtly safe from harm

Timing is everything

worthless or priceless
time, space, and need, decide it
coal or diamonds

I tried

she was many things
a free but troubled spirit
sunshine and dark clouds

I cleared her path of
stones and other harmful things
twas never enough

Which is the dream

each the other's night
the life lived while real to one
just the other's dream

Escape Denial

with finger pointed
she lay blame at many doors
none of them her own

each day she drank but
bitter vetch, ate moldy bread
for none saw her worth

she became blind to
her own true reflection, his
leavings no true meal

take vile memory
in hand, put it in a box
sealed with cross or hex

bury it deep, let
earth disperse it all around
reborn green and clean

ritual frees us
walk away from the grave now
now free just to be

Crimson Chasm

crimson chasm's charm
fades to sensual shadow
bespeak, be not lie

Reading ARC's

For those that don’t know, an ARC is an advanced reading copy of a book that isn’t out yet to the general public; it’s free if you have the right contacts, which I do.

Worth reading is Moonbird by Phillip Hoose scheduled for 7-17-12.  Imagine a little bird barely 4ozs in weight that has lived for over 20 years and logged over 325,000 miles in his lifetime.  Every March he migrates from Argentina to his breeding grounds in the Canadian Acrtic – that’s 9000 miles one-way. A human's marathon pales in comparison,

Told and imagined through the eyes of the people who study these birds and their migratory patterns while fighting to preserve the fast disappearing feeding grounds that enable their lives.  In the words of my beloved Spock - 'Fascinating'.

Other books await, but next up is the one I picked up at the library today, The Blood of Heroes - the 13-day struggle for the Alamo and the sacrifice that forged a Nation by James Donovan.  Hey, what can I say, wherever in the world I hang my hat, I'm a Texan.

Brat

I always fit in
but never belonged - no roots
each became a choice

Capture thoughts

fleeting thoughts only
ink anchors them on the page
if not, were they

Edge of Madness

I want to know what
madness is and where the edge
of its beginnings are

I've skirted its rim
felt its cold breath raise each hair
on back of my neck

cats' whiskers sensing
what comes in stealth to rob me
of peace, mind - of me.

Reflection

always startled by
my reflection, not quite sure
what I expect there

that exotic brown
eyed woman looking back
at me feels foreign

I cannot say what's
missing, golden eyes, pointed
ears and fur seem right

(Perle Champion)

Stasis

dawn, and the sun will
n'ere rise, ever just begins
with no end in sight

I've keys to all the
beginnings, but where are all
the happy endings

Wilderness

where night finds me, I
lay me down neath a star strewn
canopy of stars

and waken dew damp
embraced by verdant nature
tracing sun's warm kiss

She Writes

pen in hand she writes
scenes that never were, true once
put upon the page

she writes for her life
words marching cadence across
every pale blue line

Bow (haiku)

obelus icon
obelisk, pylon reached, breached
faceless god gone, fled.

Wine

maenadic maven
guaffing vines blood - divine rite
chasing the night's flight.

(c) Perle Champion

Dreams Held Close (haiku)

dreams told come not true
night's velvet cloak holds gems, so
spew nightmares instead.

Faery Dust

those clouds that held us
aloft gave way to the ground
wings gone, we walk on.

Be Witch, Be Quark

find the gap between
thought, one with the universe
be both here and there.

(c) Perle Champion

Suspended

moon kissed sea's ebb, flow
I trod the strand, that just firm
sand not now nor then

(c) Perle Champion

Rain

rain drenched sopping ground
long sated - swiftly runs your
largess to the sea.

© Perle Champion

Enough

The world of childhood, did it die, or did the childish – I
Lately, I’ve gone searching here and yon and in dark corners
of my mind – she’s there, I know it.
What great calamity sent her hie to hide
away from day
What was the final injury; what sight; what slur,
what fall for her
was the one that brought the words
no more
enough
I try so hard to remember; I seek to ask, but she flees through veils of
of years denied through rooms long dark, and halls of dust echo
ancient tears she cried
enough.

Just John

You know
I do not really care
and I know
you do not even dare
to talk at length of our relationship.
Lest some not-so-well-meaning soul
should drop a casual word
and someone who shouldn't
heard
then where would we be
you
and I
and she.

Did you ever sleep outside

the night had grown old and morning
crept across the lawn - tender tiptoes on wet grass
breezes teased dew from trees- woke slumbering flowers in their beds,
and me, as the cobwebs of dream
clear to greet her coming
no desire to go from outside to
inside - no desire for the musty odor
of things in need of dusting and
things that occupy space and give
little in rent when
outside, out here, it's all connected.

Nightscape

The A to Z Challenge is over and I need a new focus, but I still have poetry on the brain. This one's a not quite haiku.

Nightscape

soar star soul cross the

velvet dark of space and time

sensual shadow

bespeak, be lie