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 May 2021
Valsa George
Behind me, I hear
The receding roar of years
It sends chills down my spine
Beads of sweat pop up on my brow
What did I do all these years?
Did I sleep through half my life?
Hibernating in my burrow
Did I keep the promises vouched?
Live up to the resolutions made?
Could I light a fire in gloom?
Did I wipe a tear?
Could I bring a smile to anyone dear?

For me, no more sprinting steps
Feeling awkward and unsure
With a fast withering torso
I look on to the track ahead
As the race winds down
And the final turn in sight

Once my life has been a round of cheer
But no more can I cling onto those days so dear
‘Much have I seen and known’
Yet how little!
To what all places I have been!
How much joy and pain shared!
How many dreams I dreamt!
Now in this paling light, I stay
Brooding over joys missed
Conjuring unfulfilled longings
Coiling back all the way to the start

I am an autumn leaf
Now turned red,
And about to shed
As the world goes wheeling through
Somehow I am pushing ahead
Waiting for that tightening grip
Of an unknown caller’s powerful fist!
How am I going to respond to it?
With regret or delight
I am not sure

Do the journey that lies ahead
Take me to a sunlit abode
Oh, don’t ask me
I am not quite sure!
 May 2021
Seranaea Jones
-


i cast only shadows
of twilight,

but like a ghost, i can
spoon deceptively well~

following just a fingernail away,
i can scrape the periphery of your
senses at any given moment

yet i remain outside a passing glance,
just beyond the visual reach of mirrors

for i am the corpse you sleep with nightly,
evidenced by those occasional scratch marks
i leave on your shoulders, neck, buttocks

the thing you've spent most of your lifespan
dismissing as some graveside mourner you
simply turned your eyes away from

yet as a faucet of sand left dripping,
you pool into the spaces between
the plankings of oblivion

Someday,

you will wake to a rope-snap
suspension upon the gallows
of my choosing

as you pour out the last
grain from the hourglass
of your lifespan

your fingertips slipping
down its smoothed
surfaces

knowing — 

as i watch you
fall away

from far,
far
         above...



s jones
May 2021


.
a re-assembly from
something i wrote
in 2009
 May 2021
Carlo C Gomez
[begin transmission]

Little mean marble,
the grasshopper lies heavy,
riding storms
and trailing winds,
eating dystopia
right out of the box

suns and daughters
of the cataclysm
sit about a space
cadet's campfire,
hints of alien sand
in their voices

it so oddly resembles
vast outland libretto,
that breathe of menace,
inside sojourners
holding tickets to ride
tramlines on shuttle days

swarming with
Walter Mitty groupies
and econowives,
transporting ****, rapture,
and/or reproduction to worlds
of public domain

one day we'll settle here,
one day, with bowed heads,
we'll kiss the splendor
of its red ruination

[end transmission]
 May 2021
Valsa George
at the edge of the cliff,
she stood
determined…….
eyes limpid pools of sadness,
hair wind swept

flawed….?
damaged?

the swirling enormity below
inviting….!
nested in her own ignorance
never knowing there’s poison
in the sting of bees,
as dripping honey
in their combs.

consumed without flame
in the heat waves of life

an escape is ineluctable
perhaps more to cover a secret…!

SWISH….!!!

the water below parted noisily
sloshed up…
but the tug was fierce.

down,

down

she slid,

into the silver chambers
to be garlanded by mermaids!
I want to be the lady who
                had a dainty stone teahouse
                                     built on the tiny island in
  the middle of Emerald Bay
                      in South Lake Tahoe,
accessible only by
          the little yellow boat with
                            the scalloped awning over it,
   which she kept by the dock
                              below Vikingsholm,
her glorious stone-built castle
                                       in the nearby pine trees.
Who is she?  
          Who was she?  
                   Why couldn’t I have been her?
                                                           ljm
Google Fannette island, So Lake Tahoe. CA
 Apr 2021
Jade
written across my anatomy,
a brilliant Poetica:

lips part/
line breaks

the dimple in my jaw

an

a
c
r
o
s
t
i
c

clavicles
mere sisters of verse

fingerprints are but
whirlpools
of apostrophe and quotation

the trellis of my ribs
composed of
stanza

behind

my papyrus heart
dwells

every beat
a turning page--

and this is my story
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 Apr 2021
Valsa George
I had fallen in love with her at first sight
a six year old with eyes
moist with dewy tears
she stood among the other whining kids,
picked up from the compost heaps of life
her slight brown hair was tied
at the back into a ponytail.

in her torn pink frock and delicate frame,
she looked a fading rose.
on her face was the pain of desertion
with no Dad or Mom to kiss away the tears
or hold her close to the heart

the building with its cracked walls
had an aura of ruin about it.
everything, so shabby and stinking
and it was there that I met her

but among the many, locked up like caged birds
why did I single her out?
may be her cute look and seraphic innocence
made her so special!
even after I had left that place,
my thoughts kept returning to her
and I decided on making her happy somehow

the second time I went there,
i carried some knick knacks
and some sweets for the children to munch
also a parcel colorfully wrapped and tied with a ribbon
when I called her aloof
and handed that small gift,
i watched the twinkle in her little eyes

as she opened it with fumbling hands
curiosity peeked on her face and eyes
finally, when I took out the glossy frilled frock
she squealed in delight and clapped her hands.
saw her face aglow with excitement and joy.

into her bleak world I let out a flash of delight!
A personal experience.... the memory of which I still cherish.
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