i blow your house down
like an ill-tempered storm
or come down your chimney
some kind of psychopath santa
crowbar open your windows
with words both iron and soft
but you remind me
it’s not my house
if i can’t open the door
——
Tag: poet’s pub
something feathered (20170522)
she opens her mouth
a bird escapes
some magic trick
silent bird
with its beak
welded shut
by shame
by trauma
–haaaaaaaaaaaa–
the sound
you breathe out
through your mouth
the sound of wings
you can’t breathe and lie
at the same time, girl
——
you can hear the moon talking to herself (20170508)
the wolf plants himself by the fire
just an emaciated bag of sticks
–what do you want, moon chaser
he licks a paw and grins
–just waiting for you to die, fat boy
–ingrate
together, we watch flames
sparks echo stars
shadows echo night
——
the art and science of subduing spirits (20170424)
i have tied you up
and you have forgotten
the safety word
the knots keep you subdued
the ropes are of my own weaving
regret mixed with despair
a few threads left of honest desire
the knots keep you still
but you are just a shade
easy driven out by a strong light
easily chased into dusty corners
my silence keeps you silent
——
for
dVerse ~ Poets Pub
Quadrille #31: still
It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 24
Check out these sites:
fragments of peace (20170410)
paper mâché jesus
angel composed
entirely of dried ivy
stuck to a stone wall
jesus comes apart
during a soft drizzle
collapsing into smeared
classified ads
a dry santa ana
picks the angel apart
one leaf at a time
leaving withered veins
without blood
——
for
dVerse ~ Poets Pub
Quadrille #30: drizzle
It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 10
Check out these sites:
a treatise on [fill in the blank] (20170327)
a big fat balloon
found at parties
sometimes red sometimes shiny
telegraphing messages about age
and achievement
taking a deep breath
makes you talk funny
for a while
which is as long as it lasts
until it deflates
floats away
brushes against something sharp
——
river and hunger (20170321)
i am sewn into a beaver pelt
and set adrift in the river
i hear the rocks split the water
though only darkness feeds my
starving sense of sight’s appetite
i feel them drag along my back
these jagged river stones
not yet worn down, splitting the water
though only darkness feeds my
starving sense of sight’s appetite
no longer enough air to breathe
the stench of game hide and water fills my lungs
bruised, i flail, splitting the water
though finally darkness satiates my
starving sense of sight’s appetite
——
in the spring (20170313)
no gentle spring rains
from the wretched grandfather clock
just the constant hunger for winding
we feed it tension and time
it belches chimes gears and fears
that reek of aftershave
brought tears to my eyes
an empty chair
a thousand sour, empty threats
——
memento mori (20170228)
focus on the pain originating in your molar
floating heavenward like an angel
made of nerves wrapped around broken stained glass
up through your hard palate
lodging between your ear and jaw
wonder for ten seconds if it’s cancer or an abscess
then opt for tmj because you’re tired and you
need to sleep
this is a memento that death leaves in your crib
to remind you every single day that you are not
in fact, going to live forever
or maybe he colluded with the tooth fairy
when you lost your first tooth
touched that soft bloody spot
in your gums
you obsessively kept
your children’s teeth
even the dog’s
——
giggles and hits (20170227)
taking up pen, preparing a page
sober, serious–really quite sage–
i wrestled a wriggle
a jiggly smudge–no more than a giggle
struggling to make it behave
ultimately, i was the slave
discovering, to my chagrin
taming a word is a terrible sin
——
Words and Feathers 