Image by © Chris Galford.
Closed eyes embrace
Riveted in fire like
Old angels lacquered
With the doubt—
They will come to call it,
It lies heavy on the backs
That would toil clouds
Circumvent the sense of it,
Armani dreams, Gucci heart
Wing-tipped longing stands
Fleshy and forgotten.
Icarus saw this
* 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!
"The Bootmaker," image property of Rob Hanson.
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.
Image by and copyright Walter Parada.
Red rivers ride
A smile and a hand, freely offered
belie the tip—
it’s not a stick you know
that I’ll stick you with,
not a dream doused with dreamers.
God or Man
the mortar drips
beneath the marble—
just a dab of purity to hide
* A piece for this week’s edition of One Shoot Sunday. This week features an interview I had with the talented Californian photographer Walter Parada. I was very grateful for the images he chose to share with us, as I find them all to be absolutely striking, from his landscapes to his portraits, and on to the image featured above.
Photo by (and copywrite) Greg Laychak.
It is a long hall we walk,
Reflections of decisions
Hung in windows,
Rain-spattered and sun struck
The stains of time rolling down
Like tears, never wept
In the dawning
When other voices rang
Rhythm, rhyme, reduced
Where they set us yet to roam.
Everything is painted now—
The eyes look through it darkly
Raindrop hopes in green.
Silence smoothes visions.
Lapping at the sea, he bears
Life upon his tongue.
* My short submissions to this week’s edition of the One Shoot Sunday Photo Prompt, featuring a picture from One Stop’s old friend, ChasingTao. Not only am I interviewing this week though, I’m also hosting, as Dustus is out and about in New York City, along with Moondustwriter and Brian Miller, for the Shorty Awards. Be sure to put on the live stream at the Shorty Awards’ website tomorrow to see if One Stop takes home an award for the arts!
By Iquanyin Moon, for One Shoot Sunday.
I cannot see you anymore.
It ends in solitude,
The salient serration of your survival
Severed all trace of tactile touch—
I reached for you and you recoiled till
Whispers on the lovers’ trail
Turned it all to desert and to dust—
You went alone into the waste.
You are naked to me,
Wind-blown wraith wreathed in
Dust—blow, ye wind blow, for you
Are nothing, breaths and breathing
Touch upon the earth and fade away—
Just footsteps sifting in the sand
Time covers all.
*This poem is a response to the latest of One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt challenges. This week’s featured picture was provided by i-Phoneographer Iquanyin Moon, who I interviewed for this week’s One Shoot Sunday. Check out her wonderful work, her insights, and some great poetry…
By Lisa Michelle Arhontidis
A waking in a kiss
Cold lips in black light,
There is a life here that does not sleep
Between the sheets of memory, wrapped
She beckons and I heed, this endless
Obsession of souls, commands:
Drink these lips.
* Photography by Lisa Michelle Arhontidis, from her gorgeous photos and interview I conducted with her, as featured on One Stop Poetry.