on the edge of tomorrow
my breath burst into silvery stars &
swelled
to touch the moon’s reflection
in a single tear
that sprang from wonder.
in this muted affection
you can still perceive
a slight trace of home,
calling endlessly.
Night
Dro(o)ps
there you are, speaking
in shivers rather than words
& clouds of unfinished business
fog up the windows
as the windshield wiper erases
not solely rain.
Phantom Nights
hold your breath ~
let phantoms fly from your disgusted soul
to tear jagged-stemmed blossoms
from ever-b(e)aring flesh.
hold your breath ~
and rage along the edge of sanity
’till nights dips into morning
and sandpaper screams subside
on tattered tongue.
then
breathe the sunrise.
Neon
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
Reflection/Dear Self
Dear Self,
last night your tiny voice
played catch with moonbeams,
and in an instant of clarity,
your words rang true.
for too long i have buried you
under the stench of make-believe,
and waxen smiles, painted lipstick-red,
fastened lies to the surface.
it was the mirror of the moon
that thrust this bladed truth through prison’s flesh,
and feeble, makeshift lies flaked off my callused mind
to leave me bare & bathed in light.
i am sorry i failed you
for so long.
it is time for change.
M.
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Mary over at dVerse invites us to write an ‘epistolary poem’ for Poetics today – I wrote a letter-poem to myself. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, thank you, Mary.
As I am going through some major changes in my life, I do not know how often I will be able to write over the next couple of weeks – time will tell. It will be quite a journey on my end, so bear with me…
I would like to say thank you to my wonderful readers and fellow poets… you never cease to amaze me.
See you soon!
Wish Upon A Star
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.
Digital Demon
there is a demon in digits
neon-lit or
elegant chrome,
tick
tick
ticks
me off the night away &
melts my liquorice eyeballs
to blistering plastic puddles
there is a demon in digits
& a strangling vine
in those metallic hands,
milking my corpse for yet another hour
when all i want to be
is gone.
______________________________
photo credits: greatbigcanvas.com
Dark|Light
erase the moon
shed darkness ‘pon this rotting flesh
erase the moon
send vulture’s wings; take leave — ’cause soon
this famished soul will turn to ash
and still this heart – too bold, too rash
erase the moon
embrace the moon
shed light upon this sullen soul
embrace the moon
come, listen to her silver tune
to cleanse this heart of dust and coal —
your wounded spirit shall be whole
embrace the moon
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… two Rondelets – written for dVerse’s ‘Form for All‘-Prompt… thank you so much for the introduction, Tony… this was a real brain teaser – such fun!
Lun(e)atic
once again i howl,
sleepless ~
fling my chaos
at your silvery face
i wonder
if you have
a voice of your own ~
this Hollowed One
seems deaf
to your frequency.
____________________________________
photo credits: guernseyhhharriettes.org.uk
The Wee Hours
in the wee hours of this night
i am just as wee ~
unusual companions.
MonsterMind
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.
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Brian over at dVerse is chasing monsters today…write a poem and come join us at the Bar!
photo credits: skyscraperobsession.com
Nocturnal Habits
the moon travels
on paper-thin trails,
lounges
between space and time
and waits
for Dawn
to crowd him yet again.
On the Dark Side of the Moon
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.
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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
Textures of Winter
street corners, fast asleep
huddle beneath
street lamp’s mellow light.
icicles
glisten like jewels,
crown the silent watchers’ brows,
while shredded wings
drift from the sky
to cloak and bury
the hustle and bustle,
the musts and have to’s
of the waking hours.
not a sigh;
not a single anthem lingers
in the reticent air;
white touches
steaming breath,
dances;
final bow, to melt on rosy cheeks
and i stride alone ~
the only sounds…
crunch
crunch
crunch
beneath my boots.
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I wrote this poem for Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets Pub. Come join us at the bar and share your poetry… doors open at 3pm EST…
photo credits: scenicreflections.com
Frost’s Curse
what to do
to drown the turmoil,
the palpable tension
clouding,
crowding the mind?
what to do
to keep from spinning,
to keep from turning,
to feel
sleep’s soothing touch?
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
your words hold
such delicate beauty ~
but i must say
tonight,
they are a curse.
sorry, Robert.
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… the quote is the last stanza of Robert Frost’s wonderful poem ‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening‘.
Another Wandering Soul 