In my dreams, I saw you
I want to hold your hand
and the tears, you got through
is flaming in my heart
and it's a wish,
can't come true
I want to be a better man
to be the one, all for you
tho your world is on collapse

Let me be a part of you,
I miss you.
I see you when I close my eyes
I would live for,
the day that's yet to come
by then I'll hold you,
warmth into my arms
and I would tell you
I've become a better man.

Please don't take a picture
that you'll only leave behind
Don't bother with the memory
or keeping me in mind
I'd rather not be there
if you are never going to care
So, please don't take a picture
if you would be so kind

You don’t see me.
I mean…
You do… see me.
You see, a warm smile.
You see, direct eye contact,
You see, a quick joke.
You see, a random fact.
You see, us laughing.
You see, “Why do you even remember that?”
You see, confidence.
You see, certainty.
You see, a shoulder to lean on.
You see, an ear to listen.
You don’t see, drowning.
You don’t see, shrinking as you walk away.
You don’t see, a mountain’s climb to simply get out of bed.
You don’t see, doubt.
You don’t see, fear.
You don’t see, being alone in a crowd.
You don’t see, lingering on every word.
You don’t see, “What did they really mean by that?”
You don’t see, a plea for help.
You don’t see, no self-worth.
You don’t see, gray days.
You don’t see, lost.
You don’t see… me.

they float in rusty rouge waters
as fog steams upward, obscuring
various uncanned flotsam

white shapes of vocabular form
disperse into random orientations
entangled by processed seagreens

i saw the letter 'k' rise to the surface,
only to slip below again as other
consonants recomposed

with a single dip of my spoon,
seven of these lifted from
their salty wakes form
a simple line of
characters—

spelling
                   nothing...


"unremarkable soup"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved

i used to throw bread crumbs into
a pond full of minnows next to a
place where i worked years ago

it kept me cool in the summertime,
pulling the heat out of me and
feeding it into the winds as

a turtle snapped up dozens of fish-babies,
transforming the vision of my frame into
maybe the size of a praeternatural feather

and for a moment,

i dreamt that on a clear night through the
eyes of a barnyard owl that i could
navigate the dark foldings of
space into the beating
hearts of praying
rodents—

blinking back to a view of
disturbed green waters—

i commenced
to waking...

"the frenzy, at rest"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved

.

lights spin backwards in the awakening
of midnight with all the youthful bodies
moving in reverse to it's rhythm

one moves naught because of his wish
to step forward against the flow and
is thus fixed                        
                            stationary
­
a too-late-to-adjust suspension, the view
from his seat for the upcoming show
is his only companion

he is most eager to be drawn into the
perimeter of the stage with his bouquet
of wrinkled dollar bills

stripping down to a personal submission,
he presents to her his graying embers

and with a grin~

she takes the green from the blush,
exchanging it for a golden touch

he smiles,

with a wink, she spins away with
a quick stomp of her heel

he smiles,

he returns to his seat to sip down
a drink that fizzled out years
before she was born—

he grins...



"a dance for the humble"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved

-


totally submerged
they laid side by side
three puppies of
different colors in a
shallow puddle
by a pasture

a bull with udders was
fixed halfway into
some fencing nearby
like no big deal

he was totally dark and
she did not labor

i lifted the brown one
he yawned and
looked at me with
black sleepy eyes

the middle grey and white one
was twitching partially under
the first, buried halfway
into sawdust

i left him

the third one had bands
of orange and red
around its little body
he was far too little
to pick up with
my fingers

they all just wanted
to lay still and sleep
in mysteriously
clear waters—

i woke...


"pups of a puddle"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved

-

a total instrument package
constructed with all of the
brain's carefully deliberated
intents channeled into them,

one transmits to another what
words will never enunciate
without a multitude of
sentences—

that which spoken
will never touch...



"the hands"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved