Sleeping under clouds

Cast:
Amaryllis
Harbinger

(Scene 1)
somewhat warmth
twilight lips sleep (under)
deep gravel sky
grapefruit scones-(clouds)
bedside cogitation:
darkness,
touch.
blood-percussion.
fervour!

 

20200108

based on the prompt at Poets and Storytellers United

Action

this moment is every other moment,
every hemming and hawing and indecision.
But it is not between what is right and wrong,
though it’s ok if you think that (for now),
its between real and illusion,
between chocolate geld and real gold coin,
between who i want to be and who i actually am.
Is this what She meant by ‘action’?

 

20200104

chicken soup

oh dear
my lord
it seems
i’ve burnt
the soup.
i’ll eat
it anyway

and ill choke on that chicken
because thats what i do
but its ok, that road
leads there too

if noone will break me open
i’ll find a way to do it myself
but not that excusy way i used to do
beating myseLf up, that didn’t cut me
loose, only let me continue on…

these tears too are torn
each one is for you, my lord

the only thing that keeps
me from falling, is that fear

20191214

distilled

sundown at 4:25.
burnt pecan pie.
leftover turkey,
no stuffing, no gravy.
snowed all day, didn’t stick .

we are fat and round,
on couch, in down,
hot cocoa and butterscotch schnapps,
sweat pants and fuzzy socks.
waving spirit in pine
branches and christmas lights

20191202

for the prompt at dVerse

If it’s darkness we are having

and it is. thick like porridge
flowing so slowly like ancient window glass
its velvet blackness wiping up all the light
that was spilled across the bar last night
its how the blind might imagine grass
you might be tempted
to sketch an elvis
across this unsun sky
that graffitti is not what we mean, here
just wait
let your eyes adjust
a futile effort that
as the pupils go wide
like a schoolbell recess ringing
dialate
wait
stars and streetlights die
the moon winks out too
this is cave bottom dead flashlight territory
a ladle in the deepest tureen
when your mind finally gives up
the idea of seeing,
only then is revealed
the extravagance of being

20191111

dVerse where we are prompted to use the line from Jane Kenyon “If it’s darkness we are having let it be extravagant.”  I’m reminded of this material:  Vantablack and this song:  Darkness by The Police:

I could make the mark if it weren’t so dark
I could be replaced by any bright spark
But darkness makes me fumble
For a key
To a door
That’s wide open

Taking down the tree, ii

long i stood
watched the wood
deer paths trod
then human foot
and horses hoof
with wheels
the paths became roads

they fought in red coats
cut loose captive bonds
carved a declaration
with ash and palm fronds

the byway become highway
scars of uncareful passing
paving blocks the rain
yet seasons keep turning
acorns in the making

long i stood
as they hurry by
cut down the wood
left only i

and they discussed
what to do with me
leave him be
take down the tree

 

20191111dVerse