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bulletcookie May 2016

This high desert thirst of solitary longing -
marooned on dunes of sculpted torsos
feelings twisting in dust-devil soaring
attuned to sifting sand's mirage overflow

In an hour's glass a toast to pairs anywhere
than here in singular uninhabited thoughts
raised voices to a three penny opera choir
that a Deus ex machina will free hearts caught

Quench these passion's villains, angels, human maul
strip this mannequin's stupor, reveal its living form
bring your hands and sooth with scented oil, brow
hold this lover's vow, and keep an evening's warmth

-cec

May 2016

ryn

Older

My mirror hangs stoic,
as silently it absorbs all it could with unbiased eyes.
All it receives under the day's sun.
Yet it never stores...
Not memories recent...
Not images perceived from the distant past...

My mirror
exists in the now.
It gives me only the present.
It reveals unequivocally the ground
upon which I stand.
It divulges only in the brutal and honest truth.
The kind of truth photographs could never tell.

Today it showed me what I've been seeing
with eyes half shut.
It showed me that,
I am older now.
Older than I was yesterday.
Older than I was a second ago.

Every wrinkle told a silent tale.
Every tale left quiet scars.
Every scar sang requiems of past mistakes.
And every mistake costed me my youth.

My mirror showed me that...
I'm older now because I've learnt much.
And I'm learning much more
because I'm older now.

An old photograph of myself inspired this.

#selfreflection #hellopoetry107 #lifelonglearning

bulletcookie May 2016

First Light

Eos woke an Argus-eyed iris
to start this day in birdsong
that pierced a sleeping silence
then sang all risings long

Square window panes did brighten
with light's momentum strong
a symphony, wind heightened
in poltergeist chimes which hung

As cool breeze entered gently
to kiss on petal's lip
while wings buzzed intently
took drink of morning's dip

In jumbled greens and pigments
this garden's watercolors glow
in natural dance of prisms
sharp thorns yield up to rose

-cec

bulletcookie May 2016

Full Swoon

It's been awhile since pregnant poem
as there was no one here to wear it
just two plane black and white fantasy
vaporized with day's chores and work

Now this is that in counterpoise
in arms embrace and kissing peaks
where clouds blush in morning sun
to wake upon your dawn

Hands that would cradle this heart
know its beat and volcanic weeping
holding even unto bone its love
there keeping pillow-lava whispers near

Then toss regret most play a fool
since evening's close behind
It takes a lifetime rise to heights
exquisitely to climb a starry sky

There moon light visions linger
as though internal fires pour
molten eyes have pierced this soul
to claim its flame and core

-cec