Restless Nightmares

"The morning after the battle of Waterloo", by John Heaviside Clarke, 1816. Image care of Wikimedia Commons.

For the final One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry, and the grand opening of the dVerse Poets Pub, I would like to bring back a classic – the poem with which I introduced myself at the first One Shot Wednesday, in July last year, when One Stop was still just a glitter and a gleam in the eyes of a few good poets.

It is dark, and due to its age not the style of mine to which you may have become accustomed, but I hope you enjoy it all the same – and if you’d like to see the piece with which I more officially gave my ending salute to that wonderful art community, check out last week’s contribution: One Winter Morning.

– – –

Restless nightmares break,

From wretched slumber do I wake

To a world of endless night—

Thunderous choirs make me crouch in fright.

High above us wraiths now soar,

Men clasp their ears to deafen their roar.

Over hills and shattered streets,

The bands come marching to woeful beats.

A hundred thousand voices cry,

Then all the singers die.

One Winter Morning

She woke before me,

straining her brush through aurora strands,

smiling at the pale gown

reflected in the blue-green mirror.

 

When she stretches,

pink melon breasts exposed at the nipple

collect prism dew, drowning

in the throb of rehydrated crystal needles.

 

The vapors of her perfume are scentless,

senselessly caressing the rivers of her eyes

like butterfly winds—fluttering out

from east to west; an oriental song.

 

But the lantern burns—

by night she is radiantly departed:

she lays her head in my lap

and the mascara runs in shadows down my leg.

*Out of season by the title, I know, but I hope you’ve all enjoyed the cool touch of this one all the same…my contribution to what may well be the last, or one of the last One Shot Wednesdays at One Stop Poetry. It has been an honor and a pleasure, everyone. I look forward to visiting you all outside of the linkies though, and to continue basking in your poetry as time rolls on.

Stone by Stone

Photo by and copyright Neil Alexander.

Stone by Stone

Vines inhale the flesh

The world atone

Stone by Stone

Memories of the haunted-hallowed moan

Of all we’ve wrought, kingly mess

Stone by Stone

Humanity stripped, to rise afresh.

* Hello, all. This, obviously, is my submission to One Shoot Sunday over at One Stop Poetry. It’s more than that, though. I hope you all enjoyed my interview with the talented Neil Alexander, but if you get to the end, you may have noted a little send-off from me and Adam Dustus. Today marks our second-to-last One Shoot Sunday venture.

Without getting into the whys too terribly and boring you all with the details, I’ll suffice to say, sometimes the path splits, and the trail leads us somewhere new. Photography, as writing, is one of my passions in life, and it has been a wonder for me to meet so many talented photographers and to share their insights with you all. It has been a magical thin for this reporter. Yet real life is coming at me something fierce right now, and in a couple months, I’ll be moving to Colorado. It will be wonderful, and the place is certainly a beauty – I cannot wait to go. In the meantime, I’m packing. I’m working freelance. I’m bidding farewell to old friends. And with everyone else departing at One Stop, it seemed, for me, the time to tip my hat to the crowd.

You all have been wonderful, I say that honestly. I have so enjoyed your poetry – and will CONTINUE to enjoy your poetry in the months and years to come. This corner of the blogosphere – it is a wonderful thing, filled with so many creative and wonderful people. I hope you will continue to visit me as well, as I’ll not be leaving….merely because I’m stepping down from One Shoot doesn’t mean I’m departing into a moonless night…I’ll be here, still doing what I do, and enjoying every moment of it.

Cheers, everyone. It has been, and still is, a pleasure.

By the Sea

At the Beach

It’s been a while, and a long weekend to boot. In sum: got some sun, traipsed some beaches, wondered and waxed philosophic and photographic somewhere between the trees and the waves, and tasted of the delicious sensation known as BBQ. It was a long weekend, but a good one, and I can honestly say it was the most relaxing I’ve had a good long while, even if I was still running all over the place.

I get the wanderlust, you know?

Big Red

C’est la vie, though, as they say. To those Americans among my readership, here’s hoping the fourth of July (the USA’s Independence Day, for those of you not up-to-the-know on your history of the land of the stars and stripes) was a delightful blend of summer warmth and rapturous relaxation with those you hold most dear. Plus, if you got to see some of the shiny explosions that were lighting up the country’s night sky, all the more power to you.

What’s the night without a little boom? Whether it’s a spiritual or a physical or even a metaphorical boom, well, that’s really up to your preference. I’m just the humble fellow wishing you a good time, regardless.

But I digress…and supposing you One Stoppers have sifted through my silliness and well-wishes, I’d like to kick off my return and the week with my latest submission to One Stop Poetry’s One Shot Wednesday, a tanka titled: “By the Sea“…

Sunlight on white sand

Refracted in pillowed veils

Hiding sand castles

Bronzed amidst unyielding tides

Sprouted in short-short visions.

A Gambol Song

Beneath our hungry shore

between life and grass

more skin blossoms.

Leap off moon–

man is wild,

a gambol

song.

* My latest submission for the great gathering of international poets known as One Shot Wednesday. Short but sweet, and more than little cooky to more than a few of you, I’m sure, I give unto you “A Gambol Song”, my latest bit of free verse.

Solstice Tanka

I wanted something suitably nature-oriented for this special One Shot Wednesday – since the party begins on Tuesday, after all, and this Tuesday is the summer solstice, the longest and (hopefully) most beautiful of days. My inspiration seemed cut off by grey clouds this morning, sadly, but with the afternoon there seems to have come a break in the haze of summer, treating my muse to blue skies and colored fields. In that same vein, I tried to step outside my usual, and go for a touch of tanka.

Hope the weather’s treating you all as kindly. May it be a fertile day for creativity!

Mother dances green

Before Father’s skyward kiss.

Sweet husband Golden

Pirouetting long shadows

Across her blossom billows.

And here’s a bit of greenery to put a little summer slant into your day…cheers!

Image property of: Chris Galford.

Fettered Rise

Image by © Chris Galford.

Darkness

Begets salvation.

–

Closed eyes embrace

Wide-spaced longing,

Riveted in fire like

Old angels lacquered

With the doubt—

–

The weight,

They will come to call it,

It lies heavy on the backs

That would toil clouds

To submission.

–

Naked passions

Circumvent the sense of it,

Armani dreams, Gucci heart

Wing-tipped longing stands

Fleshy and forgotten.

–

Icarus saw this

Falling.

* My latest work for One Shoot Sunday. Based on the images I provided this week when I graffiti’d One Stop. Yes, that’s right – my travels around Lansing have yielded a great deal of graffiti photos, and this week we decided to plaster this little offering of rebel-art up for all you fellow poets to pour over. So have a look, see what catches your fancy, and enjoy!

When there is nothing

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.

Stooped Celebration

"The Bootmaker," image property of Rob Hanson.

Stooped celebration

Thread by thread

Stringing out the walkers

Life of leather—

Toiling at the standing grace

Of other souls.

 

Breaths ride the strands,

Divinity locked in rasping labor;

Noon passes stained glass

With a smile—

the hands know but the one song,

they cannot sing it with regret.

* My latest work for One Shoot Sunday. Based on the prompt from my interview this week with HDR photographer Rob Hanson. Be sure to check back in next week as well, for part two of the interview and more of Mr. Hanson’s lovely work.

Sundress Summers

Barefoot,

Sundress summers

Bloomed in yellow visions

With the milky drink of your lips—

Child love.

My latest submission for the gathering that is One Shot Wednesday. Returning this week to a style that’s been an old favorite of mine – the cinquain – for the purposes of capturing that summer swell. Lord knows we’ve had the weather for it here.