on his sandpaper skin
you could see the scars of
all those missed trips to Neverland —
all those moments when
he wanted to be Peter Pan
but could not bring himself to fly
& with his earthbound grip
he built his foundation, solidly
on the slopes of a childhood dream
while his twinkling eyes
still sought Peter Pan
in the ever-changing skies.
there is a part of me,
crystalized;
hanging from a longing cedar bough ~
trapped in layered stillness
& waiting for (the) spring
when all i want to do
is ebb and flow.
______________________________
photo credits: antacticimages.com
one day
i will find you – wedged
between couch cushions & sunday morning coffee
when time skips (to) a beat and i
taste your life
on the tip of my tongue,
openly.
dreams cling to neon signs
& drip
from the city’s countless eyes,
dismissed.
i blink ~
tape butterfly wings
to wishful words, while
tomorrow ends in yesterday
& night takes hold.
fly…
______________________________
photo credits: google image search
sitting through this blatant lecture
of how and when and why
i doodle seahorses &
flip my mermaid’s tail – in time
to inward seaweed smiles.
at 8:34am i pray
(through glyphs and flowing ink),
that my hand will always be small enough
to fit into
reality’s gaps.
there is laughter in the deep —
a skin-tight, voluptuous shooting star
emerges
from a bed of toxic waste
there is laughter in the deep —
an overripe serenade flutters,
sprung
from the pit of my stomach
there is laughter in the deep —
and pinpricked lips
kiss lilies
upon my cheek, forbidden.
manicured nails chip
scratching society’s flawless surface
& thoughts turn rObOtiC
while we frantically count ourselves
through the days (1:35:40 until dusk).
we have to squint to see the sun
among exhaust fumes and pesticides,
neatly fold dreams into filing cabinets
& spasm home to the guttural sounds of
late afternoon traffic.
isn’t it time to
inhale the mud
and breathe roses
upon stainless steel?
there is a dream, woven
into the pillars of Atlantis;
seaweed whispers, tangled
in flowing mermaid’s hair
& I
become liquid myth,
mingling; drinking
c(h)orals of (the) Deep Blue (Sea) ~
i take a vow of secrecy
through salt-crusted lips,
close my eyes
& dream
Atlantis
among the waves.
upon the hearth of mice and men
a lonely prophet stirs his stew
adds brittle love and uncooked hope
a pinch of woe, enough for two
and in his dreams he stirs the world
lives hundred lives, yet touches few
for when he stirs, he stirs alone
his hearth his guilt, regret his stew.
__________________________________________________________________
… written for Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets Pub. Grab your poem and come join the fun! Happy Anniversary, dVerse!
men, made of clay, stand watch
and i walk
or run
or fly
jump off this skyscraper
to land
numb ~
broken and intact
while the bomb is still
tick
tick
tick-ing
i am inside, not out
(didn’t i just leave?)
where no one knows the way
where my voice is nonexistent
and i scream;
incapable ~
only to draw grey clay looks
seasoned with grey clay smirks
while i
run in circles (tick tick tick)
round
round
rOund
succumb to painted windows
finally
find (my fear) the roof exit
and jump
again – eager
to leave the madhouse behind
please, just this once.
please. please…
beep
beep beep
beep beep
i wake in cold sweat
and find
this monstrous mind
at ease
…until i dream again.
__________________________________________________________________
Brian over at dVerse is chasing monsters today…write a poem and come join us at the Bar!
photo credits: skyscraperobsession.com
day’s merciless rhythm
demands abandonment
of Cinderella’s Shoes.
come night,
to toddler’s squeals,
husband’s stained shirt
and dishwater-hands,
she surrenders
to Maybe
and takes comfort
in her fantastic escape.
___________________________
… based on the poem Escapade
on the dark side of the moon
where the sleeping rest their minds,
lies the land of hopes and dreams
there, eternity unwinds.
every soul who travels far,
to the dark side of the moon ~
seeks the council of the Wise,
listens to the ancient tune.
those who stay behind in shame
lost their purpose, lost their will;
on the dark side of the moon
wisdom reigns and time stands still.
when you seek the truth in dreams,
hope to find your answers soon;
go, explore and make a wish
on the dark side of the moon.
__________________________________________________________________
A Quatern, slightly altered (only seven syllables per line and i cheated a bit with the refrain), because I enjoy them so much… And yes, I know it’s a Pink Floyd Album… 😉
Shared with dVerse Poets Pub’s Open Link Night… come join us at the bar!
photo credits: examiner.com
sometimes words
shred dreams
faster than we can comprehend.
it takes a long while,
maybe a lifetime,
to repaint
the colorful walls
that once embraced us.
never loosen
your grip
on the brush;
never
stop the paint
from flowing.
__________________________
photo credits: en.wikipedia.org
last night
i met
your inner child
and nursed it back to health.
now…
give me a smile ~
and let me see
this radiant innocence
shine through.
make way for the king!
the king of high hopes,
majestic garb
embroidered with
elusive words
and subtle lies.
“how dare you
cross my path,
filthy animal?
did you not hear
the command
to move?”
and while
the humble man
still fumbled for words,
his spirit
got crushed
by high hopes’
heavy undercarriage.
Another Wandering Soul 