floating and leaving no trace
i tripped and fell and
split in half
surprised to find that the split
to be smooth and polished
as if it had been there
all along or
as if cut by a stone cutter
wet saw heavy grit polishing wheels
but the inside, the caverns
left in their natural state
filled with glittering jagged
spikes, false stars winking
each one sharp enough
to kill a man
each star promising light
but offering only razors
——
this summer evening
sees no stars
set into the night sky
perhaps an eagle took them
on silent wings to line her nest
this summer evening
or the man who cannot shut his eyes
buried them and now he
sees no stars
or rather than theft, is it the rippling
golden expanse of laughter
set into the night sky
——
for
Jane Dougherty Writes
Poetry challenge #33: Silent cascade
i can speak of anger
fluent in hard words
clenched jaw
balled up fist
tight-lipped mouth
that allows no human words
i can speak of anger
sudden blindness
urge to wrap your hands
around a throat
around the neck of a bat
and swing for the cheap seats
but instead
i will whisper to you
of forgiveness
that soft feather
brushing against your cheek
and beg for the same
——
pain paints a soft portrait in reds
subdued in whisper-light silk threads
(cover us in dark cocoon)
what will appear? we dare to ask
while tugging at the silken mask
(the texture ruptures much too soon)
flame emerges to clear the way
swept out like dancing sparks of day
(we shame the sun, we shame the moon)
with wings of midnight, ashen eyes
we make ascent to starless skies
(dancing again to pain’s red tune)
——
for
the secret keeper
Weekly Writing Prompt #39
| PAINT | CLEAR | DARE | COVER | DANCE |
three rings in a circus
with no one cracking the whip
three rings on three fingers
but who is steering this ship
the lion-tamer’s lost his head
he misjudged the lion’s maw
the clown should have stayed in his tiny car
he’s trapped beneath a weighty paw
i leave my seat and shuffle away
dragging my shoes through sawdust
these performances ended years ago
leaving nothing but haunted rust
——
your hand is covered in dream
wet protein
all a body needs
running down
your finger
to the curve of your wrist
i dream of tracing that line
with my tongue
licking it salty clean
but you’re already
washing clean
of the whole affair
on the blank line sign your name
trace over the letters
written before
with your hand
——
molten glass beautifully drawn
long glowing threads and soft blisters
that cool and shrink, now lifeless yawns
drop it–it lives again as shards
young love, stepping so like a fawn
upon new grass under new suns
how quickly shadows strike the dawn
drop it–it lives again as shards
my heart beat once strongly upon
your every glance, you resurrected
it, and you were careful not to
drop it–it lives again as shards
——
Jane Dougherty Writes
Poetry challenge #32:
Dreaming trees/Kyrielle
–there were horses in the dream
what does that mean?
-what color were they?
–black horses, riding through
a grave yard
-i think you should be more
worried about the cemetery
than the horses
–seriously, what do they mean?
-horses are about power and passion
dark horses sometimes are about
dark passions, things you shouldn’t
want
–why a cemetery?
-something coming to an end
or your deviant passions
causing an ending
–you are so full of shit
-it’s not my dream
——
ignored by meandering seabirds
thrusting beaks into retreating waves
the bottle sat sealed
the occupant
a cylinder of paper rolled
into a tight tube
the way a child would
form a makeshift telescope
no ethereal genie ready to escape
in a plume of silver smoke
no trio of wishes to be granted
by pulling the cork
only paper
paper and words written inside
so that the tube must be unrolled
and held up to the light
do not forget
do not forget
but please
do not remember
——
Jane Dougherty Writes
Poetry challenge #31: Message in a bottle
deafened by thunder
blinded by lightning, we fall
drowning in this rain
——
RonovanWrites
Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt
Challenge #96 Lightning&Rain
Words and Feathers 