under a fleeing moon
whispers of a friend’s shadow
drifting across the clouded lake
even the birds lost
for the words
for the colors
in a storm
the only barrier
It’s a subtle shake
in the downfall of the snowflake,
a surging stride
that rides the skies
unto the dearth and death
of the unity of breath:
breathe in, breathe out
before the world can even shout
a division of decision
whereby we shake out in derision
thoughts and words unbidden
breaking snowflakes on the midden.
When the sky strikes clouded hour
it should be sleep which you devour–
to lay your sights
upon the treasures of your birth;
shaded, still, but gold by mirth
a notion-thought, a nation-state
set upon the starry plate
lips consume by golden ticks
of time, of hearts, of callous pricks
(of soul, you dirty mind)
that in their feasting bind
further dawn, further hope
and leave the starving poets to elope
with museless musings
by economic typings–
which is to say, by morning I am weeping
for all the pains that you’re still keeping.
In keeping with the Den’s theme of travel this week (see previous post for update on that little number, mind you), what few free moments I found today were spent typing up this little number for you folks. Wanted to capture a sense of depart-wait a second! What am I doing, giving away the meanings? That’s for you people to figure out after all – don’t know if I did well, if I just give all the secrets away.
Even so, I think it needs a little touch of work still (and yes, I know I get snipped at by folks for saying that any time I do it on here…but nonetheless!), but that’s the beauty of the blogosphere – so many wonderful minds out there, ready to give and to take, critique, grow, and flourish in the presence of their fellow creative community members. Some silly people believe that if you aren’t content with it, it should be hidden away, kept from public eye until you are…to keep one’s self-opinions and dignity high I suppose. Personally, I like the reality check – and if it’s bad, goodness, shouldn’t a writer wish to know? So as ever…critique welcome!
Consequently, if you haven’t, (and particularly if you’re not wandering in here from D’Verse Poetry), you should give this wonderful community a look. Lovely site, lots of great people about – and if you’re at all familiar with One Stop Poetry, you’ll find lots of familiar faces there.
The yellow dress sits at the bedside table.
Bare feet upon the tiled trail,
smooth lines catch the dirt,
end in mountains under
where words give to mudslides
of heart; no sneakers
will bear them there.
It was the shoes they left behind.
When worlds light by tails
there’s no room left to fill,
the memories move like clockwork –
lost along the long roads
rendered Silken; eyes open
to coal bell rings.
No one speaks of the bill till it’s due.
They always say to breathe–
she prays that he will breathe.
Across the prairie roams old
beating out the departure chords,
soot-lined; black worlds
always greet the young.
The yellow dress sits at the bedside table.
She would take his hand,
tell him blisters fade with time,
that their shoes will find him still
somewhere beyond that grey road
they wait; clock ticks
as she offers him the keys.
Given the state of worry and relief my family’s been put through in the past couple weeks, I thought I would return to my regularly schedules Quotes of the Week with a few pieces on hope and family. There is great pain and immeasurable joy contained within the word – family – and they are, truly, among the most important relations we will ever have in life – for they are always with us, whether we always wish them to or not:
“The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another’s desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.”
“Sometimes our hearts get tangled
And our souls a little off-kilter
Friends and family can set us right
And help guide us back to the light.”
“Hope is that thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops…at all.”
Smile for memory—
Two ships pass bygone harbors
The sea stretches on.
Today, amidst the flurry of One Shot Wednesday and all the writings of you fabulous poets out there, I’d like to take a moment to give two very important shout-outs. If you’re looking for my One Shot submission or more poetry of mine, scroll down. This here is for
some friends of mine.
First: I would like you all to swing by Splittergewitter if you get a chance, and give Claudia some very special greetings. This skilled German poet, and a fellow manager at One Stop Poetry, is celebrating her birthday today, and I personally would like to wish her all the best. A new year, and another year of life – cheers to you, Claudia! May you keep up your wonderful writings – and thank you so much for sharing them with us, and for your presence in the community.
Second: I’d like you all to extend the warm hand of welcome to another friend of mine at Willow’s Glen. A personal friend, Kila’s just recently (yesterday) joined the Blogosphere. A skilled poet, and an avid thinker (and debater, oh lord), I’m very proud to see her sharing some of her work with the outside world now. I think you’ll all be as pleased in reading her stuff as I am. So if you get the chance, go say hello, and welcome her to our humble little corner of the web.
Happy Wednesday everyone! All the best.