2d Liz Balise

the way life used to be
     isn't quite what I miss.
        it's each individual
         moment, lapsing
           over and over
             one another--
           to create the
     perfect image
  of everything
I have lost.


I was wrong about the rain
Robins are calling for it
Fragrance of honeysuckle and pine
have joined the ozone--
Priest in swirling raiments
dangling sensor on a chain
waving it in air before the altar

clink   clink   clink

Releasing smoke that bends the mind
before the monstrance of the sun
with storm surrounding
Clouds sift through the rays and rain
Bowing thrice--

clink   clink   clink

He waves it in the air before the altar
releasing smoke
into the high and holy
Inchoate murmurs
into the nave

As a Catholic kids, we were dragged to mass pretty regularly.   Between being terrifically bored, I got my little spirit elevated by all the pageantry of bells, and music, art and statuary,  the Latin litany with its dead language, foreign sound.  I was especially fascinated by worship of the incense-- the atmosphere it created.

The nave is the main rectangular hall for worshipers. Related to the words ship and belly.

If I close my eyes
just lightly
I can almost see your face,
Like a slow moving shadow,
A whisper on a brow

But time has eroded your voice from my ears
Like the rust which eats away at
those pearly iron gates
Now just a memory of how brightly you once spoke

But how you must have loved me,
Sung to me as snow fell silently, and
wiped clean my face with a dampened thumb
How must you had buttoned up my shirt
what colour were your nails?
what songs did you sing?

My eyes sit loosely drawn
I play with each moment, flicking shards of light from the wings to the stage

And as you stay in the shadows
I reminisce
On what has never been

Lost my mother as a child. Lost my memory of everything

Carl Jung’s dreams know our corporeal weight
is but a carbon trinket, milk-dipped smocks

our gloaming slips to grey and we evaporate
this ring around the earth holds our scribbling chalks

fireworks wink out and their roots disintegrate
corpuscles crackle through the silence, suffocate

Earth’s skull plate broke and fire ejected its life pumice
hardened black, classically shaped primal shriek

Wool clouds oyster-toned made the cumulus
they deliver daydreaming rainstorms oblique

Shedding imaginary esplanades
as cold falls in frosted flakes on this fiery skin

Atmosphere bestows breath
and a shimmering wink and nod at death

there is nothing we won’t owe it in the end
this basket that holds the tilth of hours

copyright Mary Winslow 2017 all rights reserved. Sorry I've been away for so long -- it's a busy time with commitments all over for me. I'll try to get caught up! I hope you like this one!

Blossoms billow in slow-motion
Tender petals sigh to the ground
Cushioned upon a sunny breeze
And fat bees and lazy bluebottles
Are snoring gently
Bouncing softly
From bloom to gorgeous bloom
Glad-ragged and gleaming
In their gaudiest glory
And neon dragonflies drone
Adding to the sonerous  chorus
As they skim a sweltering pool
Where carp break the surface
Idly basking in the heat
There is a blackbird clarinetting
From the top of a nearby tree
And high-summer aromas
Pervade the shimmering air
And, just for this moment
Time itself stands still

                            By Phil Roberts

The failed attempt to grow more corn, took the profit of a starving line on the bottom
My name is mud
That's a horn pout future
Looking grim, the cranberry co-op price will drop
Does it to me every year, the stone got no blood to give
Matter of time, so I'm growing weed
Still sells real quick
What the government is expert at
Draw out that disgusting tax
No break for the farming soul, forgive me sir
For barging in, but I might start a coo on the sugar reform
How's an orchard suppose to earn
The only crop makes sense is the one to burn
And anyway
We could all use a little release
So come on down to farmers market with a secret word, that special asparagus
Come to get you some
Two for one for seniors and the farm girls

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