floating and leaving no trace
the sun sinks into my back
like hands kneading the muscles
every golden ray a finger prodding me
forcing warmth into the tissues
forcing warmth between my shoulder blades
which feel at last
as if they can ease apart
magnolia sweet and thick
summons the wind and floats to me
and i can almost close my eyes
how i hate summer
——
National Poetry Month
NaPoWriMo Day 11
Sensory Poem With a Twist
in
the land of invented languages
the singing detective
and
the werewolf
are
making out in japanese
a
haiku
shadowland
the mexican pet
takes
flight
——
shackled to my ghosts
unable to free myself
–i’m the only one
——
AND
you are petals
and the scent of petals
haunting the tips
of my fingers
long after i have touched you
you are the rose in the morning
just opening to the day
the greater periwinkle
so like a star
so like the word twinkle
you are the hidden flower
at dusk
never seen but always there
the ghost of a fragrance
——
i couldn’t wait to leave this town
by mule or bus or wagon train
and let the memories all fade
the bells though never seem to fade
i hear them ringing from the town
above the mournful clacking train
clack of wheel on iron–o, train,
the distance should recede, should fade
the hallmark past, the breathing town
the town is here, the train just fades
——
the secret keeper
Weekly Writing Prompt #31
(5) Words: | TOWN | TRAIN | FADE | HEAR | HALL |
AND
meat
from skin to bone
we swim
in heart thick gravy
we feast
upon each other
and ourselves
narcissistic cannibals
licking shiny lips
wiping greasy fingers
on our shirts
while we wonder
about
dessert
——
[the] bullnose bride
[served] atomic flamingos
[severed] legs [and] eggs
[and the dreaded] forbidden
chocolate dragon’s tongue
“[oh] mary”, [said] pascal
[her newly married husband]
“[this] explosive breakfast
[makes me] blue
bianca [prepared] custard d’argenteuil
[for] casper”
[with] egg [and] ember
[and much] panache
[the] bullnose bride
[served] pascal
[an] heirloom viking pan
[up side the] pumpkin
——
Words and Feathers 