Haiku

Beaumont Tower, MSU; by Chris Galford.

Woke this morning with thoughts of Winter playing in my head – and a sheen of ice outside my window that stretched from home to street and all the roads beyond. Reflecting on the beauty of the colorful Spring past, this little thing popped into my head:

Waiting to dream life

Color sleeps beneath the snow;

Wilts, but never dies.

I am become Wolf

Image care of Photobucket; I hold no rights to it.

I fell in Burgundy,

the color of her Convictions

tasted of Hopes and vaunted little riding hood–

allures that Gripped,

teased me past the bounds of Reason,

tempted to the sweetest Treason,

Body’s Elation

is my Soul’s Damnation,

gripped as we are in Sensory Salvation–

in D Minor–

rings Red the stacatto of our Destruction,

as Beings, set among the fog and sand–

we are Drifting.

I am become the Wolf, less man,

together craft the scarlet trails of Unmaking–

you Sing for me,

but these Hands are not my hands,

they Touch you, and I do not Know my name.

The Oak

Alone, standing, oaken life take root

the wood gnarls as branches stretch,

the colored leaves fall down, down

and the moss hangs down, down

bent, twisted, craven mass of limbs.

I stand, wondering how this, alone, might stir and how the

—limbs, reaching, have no other limbs to twine,

I touch, and I consider wood-borne genocide, this rough

—bark grating on my fingers,

but the bough yields and the leaves descend,

and I, standing here alone, am left to ponder

how colorless the world can be

with one life, one love, and none to share it,

and I think it is no wonder this solitary thing

sets to wilting in the chill.

* My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well– they’re a skilled bunch of poets, looking to form a community and support one another.  Enjoy!

Sunset

Golden Twilight

sinks into the final gasp,

a flame too bright for any sight,

fades not in thunder, but a rasp.

Ink etches yet into the sketch

no more the streets,

long shadows stretch,

fading color, sinking beats.

* My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well– they’re a skilled bunch of poets, looking to form a community and support one another.  Enjoy!

Summer Nights

Such sweetest nights!

The sun departs, the moon arise

But still the fire burns

As bodies shake and memories sway—

What is that taste

Which sweetens all the dreams

And brightens reverie?

Every time I close my eyes

The world is song and dance,

A mysterium of magic beats

And vibrant color

Swirling through the dance

Of human interaction.

Bright eyes

And soft words,

The whispers of the soul demand

All attention to the fore.