Fluently

in a matter of hours
words turned to crispy shades
and took
honesty to its knees.
it was then you felt your soles bounce off
the yet uneasy road,
leaving purpose behind.

Anthology

I could be
a moment, tipping
over the edge of space
to fall
and never fall
again.

I could be
a letter, lost;
curving,
curling black on fading white
where words are left
unspoken.

i could be
a trace, sighing
on the shores of nowhere, turning
with the tides
as faces
change.

I could be
a life, swaying
on the thin line between
high heaven & rock bottom,
placing careful steps
in worn out shoes.

I could be
this world, unscathed
and never fully grown, as ages float
among the clouds & leave
the faintest kiss
on greying hair.

I could be
whole
& scattered all the same —
but in your arms
I simply
am.

Perspective

9 Dali oil painting - Archaeological Reminiscence of Millet's Angelus

in the flapping lives of vulnerability
lies the secret to unwanted treasure.
forges belch mediocrity & shackled minds
hammer Gods to plated earth ~
seamlessly.

it is the twisted path of the ancient
we see crumbling at our feet;
and forth we go
to nominate oblivion
as our shepherd.

is that all there is?

____________________________________________________________
artwork: Salvador Dalí’s “Archeological Reminiscence of Millet’s Angelus”

Neon

6880730629_4f81dd24f6_z

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.

__________________________________________________________________
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!

Stripped Bare

sometimes i lose myself in the gap
between zombie flicks and heroic deeds;
there is a love story, wrapped in plastic,
that reveals my squishy core
and points your way

when pompous days retreat,
I seek refuge, devoid its colors
& smile in grey, not
taking sides
for a change

in this moment,
when your gaze holds mine,
I shed my heavy armor
and, for just a second,
become 
me,
unplugged.

________________________________________________________________
Fred Rutherford over at dVerse invites us to write a poem on the topic of becoming ‘unplugged’ for Poetics today. Grab a pen and join the fun!

Out Of The Blue

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.


________________________________________________________________
Written for Karin Gustafson’s wonderful Prompt about “bodies of water” for dVerse’s Poetics. Grab your poem and join us at the bar!

42.

Hatchnumbers

4ever we see(k)
e(igh)ternity’s head stand
& ONE tied
to the 5-pointed star;

 water

earth                      fire

 air            ether

is that really
all there is?

if 1and6 is me, i need another one of these ~
for 2getherwemake3,
but that’s a different story.

“What do you say, Valenzetti?
Are we Lost,
hitchhiking the Galaxy?”

… but the answer is always
42.

__________________________________________________________________
… a rather cryptic one for Laurie Kolp’s prompt about numbers over at dVerse.
Hope you enjoy nonetheless!
What’s your number? Come and join us at the bar!
photo credits: images3.wikia.nocookie.net