A dandelion’s caress
Lures memories
Of love’s tender passions
Sorrow burns
For what is no more

Kelly Rose
© January 13, 2018

Forgotten was I,
Unnoticed in everyone's eye,
Everything I did for anyone;
They only seem to say goodbye,
I wonder why people tend to lie,
Am I the only one with this feel,
Trying to let this torment heal,
Of why people are good only from outside,
And so reckless rusted from inside,
No one to walk by my side,
Left alone for me to decide,
Of how I should let myself go,
But no one surely understands me, so
I have made myself a deal,
To be positive and work for my meal,
Diverting my negative vibes,
So it doesn't affect others lives,
With positivity I feel a glow of aura surround me,
That's all to everything I probably just want to be...


©sim

It's a long,
            slow,
                languid sky.

Clouds incinerating,
in a smouldering heat,
on the horizon,

The last traces,
of afternoon light,
beseiged by sunset.

Your memory,
is a wild specter,
casting firefly trickery,
into the settling twilight.

And the city rolls,
past itself,
projected on the mirrored face,
of a glass building.

I am a lonely Alice.
Somewhere on a checkered green,
in that looking glass world,
you are having tea parties,
without me.

Coaxing dream,
with your Red Queen,
and Cheshire grin.

Sending it flailing,
weightless,
through smoke rings,
like dogs through hoops -
rabbit holes.

It's a long,
           slow,
               languid sky.

Darkness falls,
like the weight of years,
that pass as quickly,
as the peak,
of a dreaming red sunset.

Their memory,
is a great humid ghost,
condensing itself,
the way dampness and heat,
press the air.

Tomorrow promises rain.
I will ****** my face,
to the mirage sky,
and its clouds,
will weep.

Salty,
watercolor tears,
blurring the reflection,
of my absence,
in your looking glass world.

Moon, blow your light
my way, but don't cut my time

Let me dream just a little longer
while my eyelids shine
in the dark starlight

Let the ceremony end slow
back in my old home,
not in a cold forest near the sea

I want to see again
those three rivers that flow
together and listen to a woman
singing to a child
in her mild mannered way

But in spite of the night
and my wishes
something keeps creeping
past me in my sleep
like numbers of smoke

It was you, dark woman,
walking across the room bare
footed turning on the air conditioner
in the winter, a pair of scissors
in the folds of your robe.

She answers the prayers
of the lonely
and tenderly sews
and stitches broken hearts
and gives them a new coat of paint
and teaches them to laugh
and play and sing again

She is kind and wise
and knows more secrets
than all the mermaids
and the skulls lost at sea
and keeps a garden made
of flame and poetry
hidden in the heart
at the bottom of the ocean

She is there for the lost
and the miserable
and the dead
to guide them home
and carries the light of hope
in the emerald green of her eyes
full of elven lore

She was the first to have wings
and spread them endless and black
against the sky
to give the day
and the tired
a time to sleep
and dreams a place to bloom

She carved the moon and the stars
from the beat of her heart
and placed them high up in the night
and you can hear her voice
in the lullabies of leaves
and the song of the wind
whenever you whisper a lonely prayer
from the pieces of a broken heart

You pass through light searching for me.
From the way you don't see me
not even when I take the shape of a cry,
I understand that your supreme triumph will be death.
Despair is an empty space
in which no one meets no one.
Despair is an autumn in which
the highest peaks are strangling each other.
Where can you be?
It's as though my days have slipped away
in a shrill season
of no one,
and no one can recall
what light flashed across their faces.

Carmelia Leonte from *City of Dreams and Whispers

a storyteller's perspective, steppin' off the ordinary edge, into the unknown

An unsent letter lay on the rustic log cabin floor
A cold wind musta’ blown through the cracks the light comes in,
where it laid fallen, half *** crumbled, yet never a wadded ball;
never an unspoken thrown paper stone,  a befallen regret was all.
Silently atilt and leaning against the canted wall's slant
behind the gathered dust a squeaky hinged burl wood door

A timeworn tarnished copper wind up clock roosted,
an old lip smirched coffee cup time stood still;
an empty bottle of gin sat near the bed post headboard
where the ink stains and blotted spillings let the memories in.
Stained pages torn and bent like fallen paper wings
returned to the unread sender … postage due,   south a heaven sent ―

A sullied envelope, gnawed and mouse chewed,
for a nest of new beginnings ―     
                                                          just read:                   Lydia  ...  ♡
                                ... followed by a scribbled empty heart               

The time aged brown tattered tablet paper left behind
stifled like the unread heart it holds upon the threadbare pages
of smudged tear’s ache and spilled gin

The weathered rock hearth fireplace filled with spent ashes,
hand rolled cigarette butts, traces of an aching lament;
scratched up old vinyl records lay ***** and tired out,
from a time of sweeter fallen fences, a musical bliss, and
a lost angel's abandoned red slinky party dress,  
aside a busted off black velvet high-heel stuck sullied
in a hollow knothole in the ancient barn-wood floor
a sparkly pearl pink jewel entangled in a spider web

An unsent letter lay on the rustic cabin floor
A cold wind musta’ blown through the cracks the light gets in

The final unread words silently said:

                               "We lost our way,
                                  it all went wrong,
                                  it all turned bad"

                             ..."This is the outcome when someone you love  
                                  up and throws you away"

                             ...“I’ll reach out from the inside
                                  I’ll rise up again and do without”

                             ..."You went out into the world
                                  with an untamed hankerin’ ―
                                  like a carefree restless gypsy breeze
                                                                 and come back worlds apart"

The Unsent Letter,  
                          just whispered words to the dust in the wind
                                                            ­                        in quivering ink:

                             ..."how can I ever unremember you...?
                                  a thrown stone sinks wordlessly as a rock...,
                                  an old wood bucket with a rotten hole the heart,
                                  fallen forgotten, rock bottom as an empty well"

                                        just signed:   ...   ❤  August


                          *January 1st, 2017 ... august ... wild is the wind  ♡