Jack Piatt: Favorites

Icing...

This Sunday morning dawned so differently
I woke up to a lively disposition
The fresh air surrounding me smells of flowers
so rose-fragrant..

This early, I think of you.....

And I see the cream on my coffee
The strawberry jam on my toast

I feel I have plenty of honey to sweeten my lemonade
On a hot summer day

A dash of pepper....plus,
A pinch of a bay leaf,
To enhance the taste of my
Chicken Adobo...

Always, on late night snacks,
You are the ice cream topping
On my slice of apple pie,

The bubbles in my glass of wine
When I am celebrating,
When basking in your presence,
In our happy moments together...

I'll even tell you
You are some kind of sweet music
To start the good memories flowing
When we are apart...

I am thinking,
Even in the years to come,
You shall always be the finishing touch...
The icing,
To complete my whole being...

In my life,
I have never been so certain....

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

...felt good from start to finish, so this must be a feel-good write...

Jul 2014 Jack Piatt

Dust in Dreams

Jul 2014 Jack Piatt

Liam

Dust in Dreams

a sincere wish that, as each morning breaks, we mend

...a ten word bedtime story...

Jul 2014 Jack Piatt

You Are From The Impressionistic Period.

Jul 2014 Jack Piatt

Page Seventy Three

You Are From The Impressionistic Period.

Your droopy eyes are palpable
But their leakage is  so very  liquid
That everything  from your frown and down
are only streaks of monochrome colours.

The shine from your bottom lip’s pout
Is the sole indication of any protuberance
In between the  misty, misplaced  smudges
And  now I’ve gone and lost your focal point.

Your wilted close is tangible
But the reasoning is  so volatile
That I’m unsure of Where the dead must head
And whether *** just simply is a sin.

The parameters are but blurred
And lead to a dissipated bit of an apex
Among smears of arrogant  ignorance
And now I’ve gone and belittled your focal point.

But what is it, exactly, that you wanted to make an impression of?

Jul 2014 Jack Piatt

dive

Jul 2014 Jack Piatt

st64

dive

dive.. dive..
dive*

1.
I am eating fog on this pre-dawn bridge
an overcoat of no particular mood
     keeping intact considered-sincerity of warmth
     inhaling air tight with thin droplets
the c-cold of someone's click-clack in the distance
only an echo of studious-oblivion
glancing over the rail as the water swirls, dense

the silent hum of a slow-passing vehicle
windows darkly stare
I wonder who'd possibly be passing by here
and would they be connecting with that swirl, too

2.
there must be a walrus under there
         (shrinking-violet, that it is)
its projections long and probably needing plumbs
the departing fingers of night gnaw
attempt to steal what little shelters here
consent delayed by vertical-curses in bloom
and I'm thinking of a cat I used to have
who certainly didn't favour water

protests become latent-airborne, take off
as screeching squawks swoop by
hungry heartbeats gurgle, drip valiant
station within view.. phew, made it!

an accordion starts to play..
an elegy fit
for a dive.

st64, 3 April 2014

lovely weather these days.

sub-entry: goad-change

nothing like lifting the lid
insects swarm
sun exposing
giving rays

(thanks forever.. for all the help)

change is so good
change is healthy
what a goad-change!

Jul 2014 Jack Piatt

Découpage

Jul 2014 Jack Piatt

chimaera

Découpage

I wish words
could carry me in
and someone
could sense
the swirl
in the afternoon breeze
and gently
pick me
in a butterfly net
and map my colors
and have my contour
as a sextant for life.