A new month, new energy, and plenty of new creations under my belt…
Come on, 2015, there’s still a little time left. Let’s finish it with a bang!
(And some poetry, of course…)
Outside, the snow is falling
silence stretches in the weight behind
the distance flakes have traveled
what they have seen
what they have known
lonely mementos of their fading.
“Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?”
Japanese writer Haruki Murakami (Photo credit: Attribution: wakarimasita of Flickr, via Wikipedia/Wikimedia Commons)
Heavy is the eventide disarray,
the walk that stretch into horizon’s wake—
flesh be weak, say men in dead dismay
the unknowing writhe of souls in company
stroking through the down-me-lay.
Shards line the tone,
men and women still for lack of heart
a dream of poets out from the world sewn—
not once content, too often bared:
Man was not meant to walk alone.
Empty room,
tucked sheets.
Space unneeded for the cries
of emptiness
in his soul.
Bedside thoughts
by TV flickers.
Cigarettes burn wide black-lit holes
in stains
of their expense.
Mirror lap,
second time around.
Skin may house the heart,
still mortality
needs passion’s fire.
Before abyss come the clock-tower.
The little boy by midnight asks—
her look, lost in the candlelight—
the nature of empty books lain dormant,
the moonless night above a bridge
when there is nothing left to lose—
in sedimentary smiles she sighs:
when there is nothing
there is love.
It’s a little melancholy and certainly, I think, not my best work, but the following, “Like a Brother,” is my piece for today. Any suggestions? Post away.
Classic Friendship.
I am your prisoner,
the aluminum cage is as grating as your flesh–
torture, I see, in each crossing of your legs,
deliberate porcelain tactics, smoothing out the cause
as your apartment beckons.
The car, idling in reverse, waits
as I smile into my sentence, hands shaking
as I execute the timeless dance.
No other can compare, my lips sing praise unto thy beauty,
but if your ears hear it, your lips pretend,
deliberately pursing, calculated condescension
as you remind of the value of a friend–
turn head and flee into your night.
I sit, stupidly watching, that valued friendship fly
into another’s arms, waiting for the look –
and no look –
No, stupid, no – she doesn’t care –
love, that brother’s love spells
an end to love, no lust tonight–
soul shrinks at heart’s bite.
* 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, with a strong and supportive community. Enjoy! And while you’re at it – vote for us in the Shorty Awards…we have a chance to take Number 1 in Art!
Black waters dripping from a lonely tower,
The watch fires long since died.
Crumbling bricks betray its tale—
Its friends have long since passed it by.
Grasses overgrown, it stands secluded,
Cut off from the world beyond—
Weeping as a child in the bitter night.
A stray mouse prods the rotting mass—
The tower crumbles down.
Another vivid memory
Has faded into dark.
The Waking Den 