poetry – Page 38 – Poétique

Oats

Why is your compass spinning
Slowly pointed backwards
When I wish your arrow was
Pointed at me

We have very similar in person
Communication styles
But our texting styles are
Completely different
I am learning how to
Meet you there

Scintilla or so
A long time ago
I used to do that
Because she used to help me
I don’t know if she ever wanted to
But she did it

Zip your lip
Speak from the heart
Say it with your eyes
Free from demise
Or me; More of what you
Might regret

Something about sewing
Maybe we could thread them?

The stress was inevitable
As was the opalesque sky
On frosty mornings in particular
Tiny planes look like traveling stars
Maybe there was a reason to
Shave the back of your neck
To commiserate with the moon

The silhouettes of the leafless trees
Abandoned his loneliness for
Singular mornings although
Artistry to soul excavation
Was more fruitful
So too were implications
Of hearthstone memories

Oatmeal and laughter crowded out
Yelling and screaming which
Inadvertently had been the reason
For keeping a safe distance
From her whip like tongue

If it weren’t for all the lashings
We might still be sharing porridge
On cold mornings like this one

Time is funny

Bassinet

Never forget what it took you
To get where you are today
He heard the crow say

Why did it feel like stealing moments?
Two thoughts in a basket
Exemplified as two
Newborn babies that weren’t
Predicted to make it
He rose in the morning to find
That there was still life in them yet

As he warmed them up
Bringing each of them back to life
He saw the differences in both eyes brighter
He envisioned a life for each thought

There were of course plots and
Many ploys on the outside to
Destroy their potentials but still
He managed to give them hope

Breathing it in
Warming them up

Even as winter settled in
And death dreamed curiously
Of taking yet another he continued
To feed and nurture his thoughts
Both again now like small
Children that would one day
Need bank accounts and
Someone to look after them

All of this moving along
Like smoke drifting in the air
From warm chimneys on cold
Mornings cheating the end
It was a kind of burglary
To grab on to something
That needed to be wanted
If it were to continue to exist

And if he did it without any hesitation
No opposition could refrain
Any one ability to embrace
Even thoughts and moments
That felt like they belonged
With and to no one

A robbery for the unwanted
Or brief considerations no one
Would remember to appreciate
Were safe to survive
Like an infant in his arms

Safe in the shelter of his keep

Plastique

The stars were out
The sky was pitch navy
An inexcusably audible voice
Came through me to
Make a wish when I realized
Plastic flowers never die

All backed up against the wall
Akimbo in the corner hot lights
Burning at the back of my neck
Sweat but not enough to quit

I made a wish to be like
Plastic flowers last night
I could be my own Brahma
Create myself in the form of an
Inflammable anima
Psyche made of steel
Look pretty all the time
Never withering to feel

Eternal and majestic
Like the fantasy in a fairytale
Where dragons and warlocks
Are just a part of the background
No need to achieve more
Because the summit has been reached
Frozen in color timeless shade
Hanging or basking in the
Inability to fade is remarkable

No reaction to actions friends
Have haplessly made
Nothing is ever personal it’s just
A part of the story that the world
With two moons has accepted
As fate in the triumph of
Letting go of the blood
If commitment like chlorophyll
Runs through the stems and the veins

I made a wish last night

Hiding

So what if we’re hiding beneath the sheets
I lost my zeal, maybe it’s back at the
Restaurant we were rendezvousing
Who knew, I’m still at the altar with you
My forehead on the ground
I don’t ever want to leave

Plowing through giving up to
What’s not for me is not for you
Then we say what we say
Free spirit but I cannot
If the ramp is closed
Stops signs are red
Salivating is dead

What’s up what’s down
Do you have eyes that work?
Talk less breathe more
When it gets slow
Open it

Can you hear our laughter
From across the courtyard?
When the sun goes under at four
Will you find more time to
Say what you mean and come clean
Most people don’t speak what they feel
I get why it’s hard to peel back the
Layers to display it vulnerably

Sometimes we say goodbye
But we have no choice if we said hello

Inevitably there are
A lot of leaves on the tree
Any one could drop

Peach clouds and whipped cream
It takes awhile to melt
But a slow burn feels good

Mechanics

He was more than just a piston
Brain control seeping in trying to
Creep into his mind what’s the reward
To be eighty years old and prove
“I too can be a hard nose!”
(He exclaimed)
Whoopee.

Life is so condensed fitting
Our parts into smaller and smaller
Shapes and sizes to accommodate
Our lives into finite dimensions we
Float away and around
What brings us back on track?

In the order of all belongings
Tallying before we lay
Beneath the red marbled stone
That reminds everyone who we were
Do they drink tea in our absence?

What is it to be nineteen again
Learning the world before we knew
Anything grasping at love like
We were running out of air
And knowing almost nothing
Except for how to get from
Here to there
Oh and…
How to make out with a pear
I remember having no clue about
How to pick one out the Bosc is
A true delight in which one should
Have a romantic affair
Lips curled around
Delicious juices filling his mouth

But that was college and now
The ground is thirsty again for
Knowledge and experience
Getting out….

He was doing the work to remember
A recompense for painting instead of work

Raised in a jerkwater town
Moving away was like holding ground
In a place where culture was hidden
Until he lifted the lid one thousand
Four hundred and ninety-two miles away

And the incense was different
The smell of the future unlimited to his
Slippery imagination

A train car is running only a foot away
What’s under the hood?

Autrement

Unfortunate rainstorm
Forced us inside for the night
Summer stars were holding onto
Us even in cold winter
Tired of pushing the sled uphill
Treading water upstream
Feeding the endless fish
Deep in the ocean throw me
A lifesaver quick overestimating

Man is there something in my eye?
The world is changing and everyone
Seems a little bit crazy
It used to be you got your drugs
On the street but now you just
Go to the doctors office
Whatever you need under
A different name
That makes it legal

Blindsided by friends that seem well
And suddenly you can’t tell
What’s up from down
He was taught to keep his mouth shut
To observe and hold his tongue
To know the difference between
Right and wrong and to
Mind his manners
Take the trash out
Make the bed

These basic steps kept
His shoulders back and
Firmly placed his head
Neck strong no doubt
Hurt feelings in and out but
Man can I say it again,
Is there something in my eye?

The world is changing and everyone
Seems a little bit crazy
I’m looking around to find
The people who are like warriors
From a time before but even
Those folks appear to be
On their way out
Almost saddened that
This is what they’ve left us with

It’s not your fault

Miracles

Can you reassure my mind
That it didn’t mean broken pieces
Of flint and petals in the wind

Miracles sing:
A window opened up
The breath of life cries
Over a hill to travel;
in a moment that will
Quickly be forgotten
Living with him, dying inside

A flute sings up
From downstairs travels
Into his ears and turns
Downward the heads of
Tiny blue flowers in the
Harmless garden
with jumping conclusions

Miracles song:
Many footsteps I have walked
Sun flares danced to
Flicker close to my fingers
Each digit
Hungry to feel powerful
But the energy is drained
Green eyes filled with tears

Chilling echoes
Everywhere reverberating,
Is there a prayer that could
Safely encircle us in protection?
His intelligence was flying away,
Pigeons were scattering
Screaming out loud
More than one day of peace

Then on his knees
Please he pleads
Must I lay prey to
Imprudent circumspection
No father to call to be had
No mother to pet his head

A miracle song
Is hiding under a blanket
Somewhere in the back room
Passing by the mirror in the
Vestibule to look one last time
He writes a fast note
On a piece of yellow paper
“Osmosis is my safety net.”

Diffusing carbon skin
What question could be asked?
All the walls were rattling
Inside crawling with spiders
Words on their backs,
It’s not your fault
You didn’t design life
While creating yours
Connect it to ours…

Meaningful to meaningless
Hand in hand
Instead of the same kind
Two fish swim away
I plant a heart on a rock
No more solving mysteries
Broken candles
Lights no one’s pathway

Giants

Guttural sounds came up from the ground
Bellowing out and roaring around
The rules of the planet are changing
And the stars are sending messages
To the mechanics of the underworld
Rearranging the shapes of the seeds
And the roots and the flowers of things

Giants that shake the earth from inside
The quakes and the rattles all the
Cracks that come out hold a message
Much longer and stronger and purer
Than tiny human ant like minds
That can only concentrate and
Conceptualise how to do surface
Level analysis unlike moving the tides
Of the oceanic atmosphere or shifting
Revolutions of the days on Mars
Neptune or Saturn as the universe
Has the strategy to do the rumbling
Continues to shatter and jangle
A plan for a future the flesh
Cannot wrangle considerations
For what we pretend to control
Makes laughter for the Gods
Like jelly on toast no more
Powerful than raking leaves

Push your pennies around
Make your constable proud
Do the things that you think
Are worth doing if paperwork
And recording your silly decrees
On differently colored notepads with
Stamps and seals ignite your appeals
Go ahead with this

For the atomic energy of a nuclear
Existence that catastrophically outweighs
The bureaucratic persistence beyond
Even the ideas and concepts of our
Minuscule minds can conjure has the capacity
Of that which no creature crawling
On dirt could predict and derelict
Is the actuality of any vital creation
Or essence to be of importance
When nature expresses her gift

Contending

There was a war going on tending
Over a peaceful land full of roses
That was once mostly fruits and vegetables
A small crop of edibles plentiful enough
Shared to produce and feed a few families
Though the garden was peaceful
And the caretakers loving the
Overseers that taxed the property
And issued all of their hear ye hear ye’s
Didn’t really care about what the
Land was for; looked like, whether it was
Beautiful or loved it was stone cold emotion
Most of the villagers living there
Played by their rules and paid
All their taxes and swept all their porches
But everyone was still putting up their
Precautionary dukes for fear that another
Battle would surely ensue left to endure
At any moment on any day the magistrate
Trumpet would blast and blare
Stridently a new proclamation to
Shake the knees of the humble town beware
And then the officials would all
Send their minions out somewhere else
To set tiny fires ablaze on someone else that collectively
Could effectively incinerate the hearts of
All the people who were just trying, crying
To live their lives right peacefully, civilly
And in harmony but there was no
Beautification or manifestation
That would aid the peppery proprietors from
Experiencing emotions of compassion
Attacks were practiced which would disrupt and
Enrage the sanctity of this precious plot
Inevitably on an outside space no one cared about
Before until someone finally did
And it became a war zone a rock to fight for
To be sparring on by tyrants who showed
No appreciation or gratitude for
What the village had become in self contributions
For it was not about the whole of
Humanity but the financial sum
Fuming inside the farmer pledged not to
Take it personal for his own mental reprieve

Chirping

Red blanket wrapped around his
Shoulders in the windy air outside
What is culturally okay there
May not fly here so where are we
When we’re both in a different
Part of the world entirely
Multicolored lights together
Chocolate and coconut on my tongue
Half a universe away the stars
Are blurry observing from behind tears
There is a palace in this heart
That is eager for your visit
No timeline or privilege
Easy to know that you’re coming
Difficult to predict when it will be

I took a bicycle with spokes
Full of intentions pinging
And rode it through the house
The hardwood floors were creaking
There was a God standing in the kitchen
And the cat chased me into the yard
Out the back door in between
Two cherry trees stoically unpicked
Rustling the fruit I was urgently
Splashed with the sweet blood from its pulp
On my face like love spent
From the pit hiding in the edible flesh
Rich with delicious possibilities
The stone beating with zest

In that painting a fire burns the canvas and
Linen ashes float flaming cotton into the sky
Orange embers on almost olive pale skin
Tell the truth of frogs hiding in the grass
All chirping with certainty to the cosmos
As a testament to descry our future and beyond