Gary Winkel

Do you want to dance
when you're alone
in front of all your fears
with the passion
...

Not electric
by this aged rock
solid against the waves
of the lake.
...

Dripping from spirituality
from what used to be.
Could have been of the sea.
Could have been from me.
...

Surround in me.
Surrender
to a lover and a thief.
Break the ice
...

The conversation is orderly,
rather affected. Minds X,
intelligent. Empty.
No passion. I must be envious
...

Scraggly bearded ex-radical
and sallow vegetarian lady
riding to the revival
of survival technique.
...

I searched for a smile
amidst the ashes of silence
picking up the debris
from under a fiery eye
...

I ride back through colors
to see the sounds we shared
hearing the breathing in and out
of the wholeness we felt
...

Standing on
a watercolor shore
separated from measurement.
...

Even stillness is imagined today.
The tree is constantly shaken,
but I'm holding on to eating
apples and a occasional hello.
...

The leaves are falling,
floating down
to the ground.
I cannot descend
...

Embracing her body
on the skinny apartment floor.
Seemingly disconnected verses
find each other like lovers.
...

Mystery. Awareness is clue.
Absurdity is answer.
Fancy dancer. Tango tapestry.
Surreal survival. Timeless tune.
...

Welcome the gentle
breeze tide flute
calling upon the beach
to stop being so still.
...

The picture is painted concretely,
but the message is fragmented
like broken phrases exciting,
but not enlightening you.
...

This celebration never is
a tick in time magazine.
This holiday never is
a dent in payday.
...

...

Your sentiments are striking
a chord on stone
thrown in a gospel choir
elevating my sweet time
...

I'm forever beholden
to moments lost and
found in the crisp blue
winter sky over the city,
...

Sitting on a sofa of dreams
with whole worlds to turn.
Listening to the big beat.
Seeing the curves
...