dog–my companion
gutter full of stilled water
we race with the moon
Tag: moon
demolding (20161211)
i made a mold of my arm using
food-grade alginate, the same stuff
dentists use to make impressions
of your teeth when you’ve got a crown
in your future (too bad the palace
and regalia don’t come with it)
working my arm free was an exercise
in patience and a slow struggle
against the vacuum that
adhered to my fingers and held them
firmer than any handshake
in the end, there was a sucking pop
and my arm came free
i used the mold to cast a model
of my arm in plaster
all the pores
all the veins
recreated in moon-white
manmade stone
i think that’s the way
i want to be born
if i get a second shot
at this shit
my soul pulled out of
this gelatinous
dessert abomination
with a single deafening crack
and then a body,
static
cold
still pocked with my imperfections
but no longer yielding to time
or sensation
wither, ancient spirit (20161029)
as the animal blossoms
a wild moon breathes out
this soul follows secret winter
wither, ancient spirit!
murmur and wander no more
——
for
Specks and Fragments/Elusive Trope
Magnetic Poetry Saturday Challenge
All Hallows’ Eve Poetry Slam
lunar adventures (20161001)
drunk on chocolate milk
we eat honey
play pink and blue and
pant on the moon
with lust
——
half a moon (20160909)
no temple bells ring
small courtyard and half a moon
incense drifting in
summerless blood (20160808)
the moon can but watch
these winds raw my sky
shadow-drunk and frantic
my bitter skin screams
language is a diamond
crushed to rust
like milk
shot through with summerless blood
whispering is wax music
the moon and the crickets (20160717)
the moon is cut
perfectly in half
my only companions are the crickets
and they hesitate
when they hear my footsteps
what the moon is made of (20160618)
the sun isn’t even down
and the moon has already
more than cleared the horizon
(i could measure the angle
using that old trick by
laying fist on top of fist
like bricks)
only a ghost hiding behind clouds
that roll like cream
curdling in pale, lemon-heavy tea
did i say ghost?
the moon is a pile of
polished bones
rounded by a little circle
it sees things
and my bones see things
and from the sky
i can see myself look up
at myself
wondering when i will blink
moon (20160606)
the top of the moon
reflects nearly as much light
as the moon’s bottom
——
for
Ronovan Writes
Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt
Challenge 100: Top & Light
transformation (poem 20150515)
full moon
but i’m not going to get
all lon chaney jr. on you
no sudden transformation
not much of a wolf
not much of a man, either
not likely to change
this little light of mine
i’m going to let it shine
no teeth and no fur
(except on my back)
and a useless heart
(except as a clock)
you can keep me around
as a paperweight
big as an eclipsed moon
and as inviting
Words and Feathers 