Tales Swallowed Away

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Tales Swallowed Away

it would seem great stories,
linger at the bottom of a wine glass,
the characters may change;
some days, distorted memories puddle together,
persisting in their bittersweet backwash,
echoing ripples of time,
and lost hours in a shallow pool —

seconds of drunken enlightenment
fill glazed eyes with momentary consciousness,
the barrage of almost empty glasses,
parading the silence of loneliness,
they chime their stories,
at the bottom of each glass,
clinking, until next time …

{and all the people sing,
“Keep the glasses full”}

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Speed Of Light

A poem that I wrote in Feb. 2012 … I could edit it, but I would rather not. It is good to be reminded where we once were for awhile before changing it to our present. Maybe I will edit it another day, but for today I delight in this past. 🙂

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Speed Of Light

Speeding through energy -Zap!
My whimsical matter spreading force – Burst!
Flowing information rippling waves – Whoosh!
Traveling the universe all of my days.

Propagating glimmers through transparency – Exposed!
My massless soul not contained – Soar!
Light years of existence spawn for eternity – Explode!
Tap dancing clicks fill the vacuum.

Swimming in the vast sea,
waving at my ancestors.
Leaping across the galaxy’s carnivals.
Rolling over the dwarf stars,
giggles from the wiggling flares.
Eyes full of pleasure.

Sucked into the vortex of luminosity.
Time and space escaped me,
but time and space is all that exist.
Brilliance of thunder rolls from my feet.
Silence of golden blasts,
too fast to feel it whirl through me.

Captured in the swell of slow and brisk.
Tickling my fingers past myself,
time dilation.
Speed of light take me away,
in rapid folds of glitter.

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Wistful

Wistful

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Light, broke a frigid veil,

luminosity rose celestial quakings,

distance seemed too close —

Darkness, spun awake slumbering dreams,

Fall perked up its lips,

piercing green leaves with charming winds,

while red ones sailed into the sky,

Sun and Moon watched in awe,

as they longingly reached for one another,

still hoping for that final embrace

 

Isolation of a Chameleon

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The Road to Somewhere
Artist Julie Dant

Isolation of a Chameleon

they call me Dexter,
sometimes I go by Dex;
I don’t much like that,
what’s in a name?

my name changes,
everytime I go down a gravel road,
or run into an auburn haired beauty
with smooth, milky-white skin
sprinkled in superb freckles,
that smirk and giggle back at me –
that’s when I go by Fitzgerald

in my impressiveness,
I hit the stop sign with my right hand;
then, tap it with my left,
a beat, bum, tap, drum
up against the vibrating post
absorbing the smells from the North
and the South –
bidding my fair lady a good-bye

nice to know you
I’ve got other things to do
you can call me Fitz,
as my trail of smoldering smoke,
seeps into her psyche –
it’s too late she already,
loves me
clinging to my toe…

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Stoic

60551 © Jarek Kubicki

Stoic

edge of her heart left,
a smidgen on the base of your finger print,
she slipped through your fingers,
once in a glimpse, a shade, her smile gleams,
curving lips imprinted,
saturating a small space of memory,
beauty of a heart that loved you,
adored you undoubtedly, without fear,
lavishly, brashly, recklessly,
unwavering devotion, plastered skin upon skin,
eye into eye, heart seared to heart,
for her, flesh into flesh,
for you, a snowflake in the sun,
reminiscence flutters,
her fragrance wafts the color of the moon,
was that an icicle falling from your cheek?

Entrails of the Exposed

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Entrails of the Exposed 

trepidatious thoughts,
eats away –
residue on the lining of my skull,

i am afraid

full of shame
peeling away
molten skin
revealing what lies within
terrified of, what?

when?

innards scald from bubbling pains
aches wave through;
telling you of my darkest days
exposed and blamed
fear sieges my veins –

why?

do i rip my flesh wide open;
for all to see?
silence soaks my banging ears
does anyone, at least one –

know?

of these things,
sink into rocking flames
cowering; isolated dreams
quaking a voice for ALL to hear –

no one there?

echoes pounding within this bod
grief creeps and crawls,
swaying back and forth,
eyes melting, reflection – mirror

is my nakedness in vain?

ask the skeleton staring back at me;
hopeful flicker encouraging –
if only for one,
who?
for On
shouts from pages,
reveal the longing to know…

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Riled Metamorphosis

“Roil” Artist Joy Garnett

Riled Metamorphosis 

emergence of yellow rose among,
glimmers of darkness faltering into a fade,
echoes passed through this place –
to there, remembrance casting a shade,
unforgotten gray-filled ears,
vibrations zinged ripples through veins,
love, and its beauty remained –
long into the quakes of mourning and grief,
casting amber-kissed lips into spirals latching onto stars,
cintrine embraces soaked well into bellies of angst,
blasting cracked shells; those flavescent lovelies,
golden hearts burst through blackened soot,
gaining promises of hope,
swallowing honey, coating old wounds tenderly,
gently, laughter bulged; splattering golden droplets,
they stroked frowns into smiling suns,
riling bittersweet rebirth

Morrissey, Me, Cicadas Make Three

Morrissey, Me, Cicadas Make Three

blue plastic lawn chair,
wobbly, flimsy, a cradle of niceness,
when all the world is crumbling behind me,
this fancy chair of mine holds me close,
sun glazes my face in kisses,
tender breezes whisk across my flesh,
the leaves are falling — too soon, I say
while the cicadas sing their deafening song,
blazing my ears in constant echoes — vibrating clicks,
lovely and maddening at the same time!

aww, I do cherish them,
the multitudes of males flexing their tymbals for the ladies,
or maybe the ladies are flapping their wings?
either way, I have my chair,
shaky plastic thing that does the trick,
a soothing place to soak up the last warmth before the fall …

Morrissey muffling the pounds of mating calls,
crickets leap across my feet,
I find lost memories arise through the tunes,
and I remember that I loved once before,
recalling, I flapped my wings; for a moment or two,
it was an endearing thought,
as I fell, something awoke,
for a second, I wished to be a young me,
with a cigarette, on the balcony,
that other time it was Morrissey, Me, and the cicadas made three

 

(The Best Of Morrissey – Morrissey, playful me.) 😉

contentment

SOPHIA FLEETWOOD, RAIVEUSE

contentment

all; then, lost –
found a likes of puzzlement,
squished, smashed, into place,
very fitting.

some place between noon and the stars,
a collide of sorts,
the collapse of everything
and nothing.

gathered, collected,
decades fade into seconds,
cleansed in pain of beauty,
captured joys in angst.

Albatross(Anxious Swells)

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Albatross(Anxious Swells) 

what have I forgotten?
soaring sails, and rippling entrails,
seep across my closed eyes,
in the stillness of my laughter,
I coaxed a pain of unimaginable things

set to wander upon thoughts;
that hold my heart captive
race into happy dances;
of my neurological musings –
my mind…

wondering into playing fields,
they trample hidden attacks
formed within this brain –
pleasurably,unpleasurable
sneaking phantom whispers;
of past aches[raging future pangs]

quandaries playing karmic-type worlds,
digging(dug) similar dreams –
unspoken, utterly exposed,
standing still,
same exact place –
what have I forgotten?

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