my loose leaf like sway
situates in light, right in
leaves me loose
along the precipice of this
oh hoots and toots!
my boots cannot take me anywhere
lack distance to stretch
as string stretches all along
our stratified souls
they say, oh
give me a rest
be such an ending
to this terrible mess?
I guess not, i guess
it is not the correct thing to discuss
Let's discuss the
the dramatic tease of interest,
the emaciated conversations of puff,
please, please, situation
will tough the brave disguise
of this stuff
the life of this everything stuff
The forest is waking.
Pines and cedars
are greener than ever
while the oaks blossom.
Robins and blackbirds
chirp in earnest
scouring the leaf litter for hiding invertebrates.
The air’s stillness is swept away
by a gentle breeze, cooling my skin
heated by the sun.
Other than that,
there is only silence,
a good silence,
a slowly-rousing-from-winter silence.
the branches don't seem like strangers
they fit in greens, on greens
grass waves there.
Then someone will throw
lime in the milk of the sun.
is it ashamed of the garbage behind it?
Brisk is the feeling.
sunlight bruises beside the leaf;
below the wind when the breeze meets
is like rainfall.
So it's you
So it's you.
Under dapplespot boughs, where
Crunch 'neath feet, the dry decay:
Mold and leaf, eater so eaten
This hall, woven of wood,
Is the kept secret, wherein green
knights clash sunstruck swords
As lopped limbs grow anew,
Sprung from moldearth to
Spring in skyward birth
This woodleaf queen
With roseflare cheeks
and frostbite lips
But between are eyes:
Riots of green sun
Dances of fickle leaf
Their reign is of flit and flicker
Eater so eaten
Here under dapplespot boughs
that fill blue sky
does autumn make
swirls behind us
shall not break
thus all the leaves
that autumn takes
like a dream remembered,
a gift bestowed for no reason, save mine.
Conscious discovery yielding an oasis
from tempest or doldrum.
Without the energy or tension of a search
No plan born from need or design
No thoughtful execution of a magazine get-away
Luxurious coincidence, well cherished
Faithful lawn chair positioned for comforted discovery
A bath of sunlight and blue, still skies
Occupied birds singing faint chorus to joy and spring
Not begging for attention or warning, lest they disturb.
A cool spot found beneath the sheets by my wandering toes
When warmth has stayed too long and threatens to be wearisome
Lounging in the arms of my beloved, just longer than expected
The sweet kiss of familiar lips full and lingering
Chance audience to a little one's discovery
When no one is watching, a glimpse
the unfolding world of a child
Echoing back to wonder and a reminder
The observed gait of a cat in open grass
Her movement and mechanics newly seen
Exquisite design for her own purposes
And a glimpse into a world that is not ours
Not demanding attention
They pale my designs and grand efforts
They embarrass the clumsy media
With the slow fall of a reddened leaf in autumn
Dancing this way and that to find its place on earth
Inviting me to see
The only legend I ever loved is the story of a daughter lost in hell and found and rescued there. The best thing about this legend is I can enter anywhere.
Later I walked in a summer twilight searching for my daughter all the time. Winter was in store for every leaf and about time to fall off all the trees.
It is winter and stars are hidden. As I walk up the stairs I can see my child sleeping besides her magazines and a plate with uncut fruit, the pomegranate. She could have come home and been safe and ended the story of all.
Our heart broken searching but she reached out her hand and plucked a pomegranate. In the place of death at the heart of legend full of tears. The legend will be hers as well as mine, she will enter it.
She will wake up. She will hold the papery flashed skin in her hand and all I can say is nothing.
I saw your jaw clench,
your next breath out
shaking like a leaf
we stared at each other
and I only watched
as the first tear spilled over
onto your cheek
but that was all I could take
before climbing into your lap;
let me kiss your tears away,
I'll try to subside the pain
any way I know how.
I kiss your lips
salty from those silent tears
dripping from your eyes
I hold you close;
it's okay, Love.
It's okay to be sad
That night, my eyes paraded along beige pages
Dripping with satire, self-loathing and daddy issues
And I felt the cynic in me dance like a madman
Who had just snapped the neck of a baby bird
Cruel and unsympathetic, but dancing all the same
And then my eyes met a string of printed black shapes
Which halted me, though lukewarm in comparison
To its sibling pushes of ink, jeering and suicidal
The shapes read,
“People don't want their lives fixed. Nobody wants their problems solved. Their dramas. Their distractions. Their stories resolved. Their messes cleaned up. Because what would they have left? Just the big scary unknown.”
It was something I'd touched several times before
But denied myself to hold on to
I would catch it like a leaf in the wind
Then my eyes would cross its black spots
And I would let it go, brushing my hands of it
But that night, in my madman craze and my sneering laughter,
I felt the familiar bother of a leaf orbiting my skull
And my eyeball parade froze and my madman feet could dance no more
So I lay there until I felt the sun blush and heard the birds begin to sing
For it was not one of their own laying still, plagued by demise
As I stood there, rooted to the ground, I was swarmed, yet, untouched. I was alone. I was not seen, nor heard. I am the leaf blown free from the tree, blown into a throng of weeds and forgotten. I am the scrape on a knee no one ever talks about. I am incomplete...an unfinished thought.
Written by: Andrew D. Robertson