Author Archives: Phillip Williams

End of Day (Sarah Vaughan)

Posted on by under Jazz, music, Poetry, Relax, Sara Vaughan, Uncategorized, Unwind

She sings in my heart…

A song that I love, backed by a jazz band…

In 3/4 time her voice syncopates in the spaces of silence of my heart palpitations…

I relax…

Free from the labor of having to use my imagination… for she’s painting images with her words… not mine…

But I cannot help my mind wanting to unwind the twine packaged box of my favorite things…

Who needs a drink when her voice of mid tones and falsettos are remnant of the sweetest of sparkling Italian wines…

I’ve dropped my coat on the floor, keys are still in the door…

I just got home… But she’s taking me even even further…

Sing it Sarah…

Her Heart (The Labyrinth)

Posted on by under connection, heart, labyrinth, love, myth, mythology, poems, Poetry, smile

Pattens and pathways lay into geometric shapes that force thinking outside of the box…

… to figure out ways into your soul’s fortress… bricked and mortared for protection…

I wish for wings of a bird so that I may view your complexed structure from above and see it’s center… but am fated to walk about the the composition of corridors decorated in life experiences… that lead me to your minotaur heart…

She’s been hurt before… and this is but her guardian… I whisper to myself and look around to see:

The ground that bare holes from those who burrowed their ways away when met with the challenge to defeat the beast… and that on the beast there are scars from those that tried to fight there way past it…

but were slain in the process…

I can hear the echoes of the battles in her speech…

And know that no one has ever tried to make a friend of this guardian… who was never trying to fight in the first place…

One look into your eyes revealed this labyrinth and in only a fraction of a second…

I figured that I did not have to fight to make you smile…

Hush (You See Nothing…)

Posted on by under breathe, calm down, chicago, faith, good morning, life, live, love, meditate, meditation, poems, Poetry, tea, time, writings

What is this hush and its layered textures?

Humbling sounds of walking alone folding unto themselves to reveal the deepest need to understand… and with not a moments rest, we continue on…

Journeys through what seems like endless days and eternal nights with no knowledge of when all of this began nor possess the image of when it will come to an end…

In the between we can see:

The times smiles graced our faces and those when we cried where the tears tanned our cheeks…

Moments when he had the courage to love and those where are broken hearts built walls around themselves so not to be hurt once more…

Which lead to the most intimate junctures of solitude… and those gnashing feelings of guilt for wanting to be alone, but not without those feelings of wanting to be…

We see the past and make it present and give these gifts to ourselves…

Yet we cannot see everything… our gifts are imperfect…

But if you are reading this, then you can see… which means you can breathe… which means you are alive…

That hushed silence… is the calming of the soul…

When you have no answers but peace has become you… your mind is drawn blank, but your heart is full…

Be faithful that you are being watched every step of your way…

Tears (Measures of a human life)

Posted on by under chicago, faith, heart, joy, life, living, Poetry, tears, time, writings

All grown up…

It would be unwise to assume that all there is to know has been shed upon me…

I rub my face and look into the mirror, to see my own eyes staring back at me asking the same question that I beckon an the answer from my reflection…

Where has all the time gone?

The silence in the room is only broken once my soul begins to shift, yet I remain still… waiting patiently for an answer…

I stare until the surface of what everyone sees disappears… there are only two sets of very familiar eyes staring back into one another… dark brown portals with staircases leading to the depths of the soul…

At the bottom of those staircases are corridors to traverse years of travel in an intimate moment of solitude… It’s been well over twelve-thousand days… My feet and ankles ache, but not more than my heart when I ask the question…

How far have I come? And do not have an answer…

I see the grooves in my soul from walking in circles…

and it breaks my heart…

Then crushed by waves my body floods, I’m forced out of my trance and brought back to being face to face with myself in the mirror…

A tear rolls down my face… the room is silent but the onslaught of living my dreams whispers that I am free to do so; so long as I look at where I wish to go by saying…

Your life is immeasurable by any man, even yourself…

Just be willing to go the distance…

and a tear rolled down my face…

and I smiled.

Say Nothing (Say Everything)

Posted on by under chicago, connection, good morning, heart, love, poems, Poetry, silence, writings

Through yonder window breaks a mixture of moonbeams and streetlight…

The chill in the evening air freezes my thoughts and I am uncertain of what to say…

Yet no obstacles exist t hat would hinder me from reaching across the sofa with my gaze to touch you before my hands reach out and do the same…

Still I sit looking at you locked in perpetual exchange of unspoken emotion… and haven’t the faintest clue what you are not saying, but it means the world to me all the same…

Roaring silence of not saying the right thing…  broken by opening the of hearts and speaking the words they conduct…

For they always seem to know exactly what they want, need… desire and are unafraid to say so…

Speak low…

Untitled

Posted on by under chicago, connection, love, poems, Poetry, writings

Intimate moments of silence sit between whispers of the soul when the body is at rest… when we close our eyes and try to clear our minds…think about the day, only to lose our presence in the night…

The opportunity to catch fireflies and moonbeams… open your eyes and be my lover and I your dreamer…

A connection far from illusion… reaching out without a frog singing a song… but if there were we’d both look and become lost in the sweet dissonance of twangs and a river running beneath us…

How sweet life is when you taste it… search for a succulent to prick yourself awake hoping that the succulence of your experience never leaves your lips… that it never leaves your life… I could lose myself in the way you see me…

Hydrogen & Oxygen (Agua)

Posted on by under acceptance, chicago, life, love, poems, Poetry, thirsty, water, writings

It will take much more than two parts to one to sustain me…

To keep my eyes dancing in the light reflected from you, to fill my mind with so much reality… that fantasy is nothing compared.

To usher words that upon uttering from my lips, flow so easily that they are of fabric seamless and warm by their very nature…

To not even tell a joke but trigger my humor and make me laugh make me smile… to keep my temperature down but my blood surging with heat and passion…

For you to be like water… adapt to me… I’m thirsty…

Mementos (Time Capsule)

Posted on by under chicago, good morning, life, living, love, memories, music, poems, Poetry, time, vintage, writings

The charm of any keepsake is the closeness that it bears to the heart…

Lockets containing pictures with messages enscribed on the back proclaiming love and dedication… get passed along and tell a story to be passed along… and its been way past a long time for you to begin one of your own… 

It’s in your eyes past what everyone can see… the beginning of something beautiful… the warm beginning of a record releasing the crackles of a kindling fire in which you dance to your favorite song, you relax at the end of your day and even if playing in the background…

its still there… and at the end you turn it over and listen even deeper until you have to do so again… and again… and again…

a joy to hear… you are listening… to pages turning in photo albums of things that happened and will happen… they draw you into remembrance… take hold of the present and make you gaze at your love becoming lost in the future…

What is within us that although as old as time itself always tastes so sweet, as warm as something new, a story … a song that no matter how many times you’ve heard it… never gets old…ageless… timeless… antique… vintage… love.