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 Dec 2015 Jeffrey Pua
Sean Bork
Between us
time has evaporated
like the trust infected,
like iron turned to rust.
Into the void has slipped
whispered words echoing,
the five letters elusive.

Between us
has crept this polite smile,
an amputation
of once entwined fingers.
Like a whispered promise,
as a snowflake it danced
till touched, now obliterated.

Between us
is a circumcision
marring like a long scar
and tarnish on a ring.
Arms like senses folded,
the space between us is
measured in long strained silence.

Between us
something overlooked
spread wide like crab grass
choking pretty roses.
Now lips barely touch
and hands hang limply
locked in long awkward moments.

Between us
a love once blossomed wide
filling fields with joy
and memories many.
But our blossoms did fade
and our love went away
yet a part will always be
between us
Copyright 2010
Part of the soul searching and emptying that went on after my divorce.
they took you now, contraptions no longer. there is a palpable quiet

      in the home. o lattice,
o vase of concrete, o smolder of onion
and the grave death of sugar;

the splintered staircase creaks
on no footwork and to go back to
cerements of this ceremonious banishment of shadow peals through
  gates opening to blue depths.

tonight, the room is as haunting
as old pangs. gnash the light of
moon past mud and linoleumed floor.
cross out my eyes and empty the
visage of their macabre.

   going back to tractable beginnings
as the bell tolls for no one:

  i stagger and startle the cornerless
  shadow, waking the orchestra of
  dogs to fracture the stillness

  like how drunken men curse at
  wives and throw vases against
  roses tossed to the dead.

  flesh warms no longer.
  garlands overwrought
  with serpents.

  glimmers of stone as dead
  as petrified oak.

  streets begin to narrow
  as light starts to pass on
  as answers.
  we make no sound.
Rest in peace, Grandma Doring.
 Dec 2015 Jeffrey Pua
Sean Bork
I am older than the dirt
that you kick so aimlessly,
a distant dog yelping
at the edge of your mind.
I am the black that greets you
when its colour you seek.
A sepia toned rainbow
without a promise attached.
I take the petals from your rose
and leave you the thorns to ***** you,
till you bleed while I grin wickedly.
I am the barbed sliver
hooked within your bones
turning deeper as you scratch.
I am the rug pulled from under you
as you lay naked in your humiliation.
I am the cold tide rising
over your head as you struggle
with weighted arms sinking.
I am the broken mirror reflection,
that haunts you, mocking you
with a thousand voices screaming.
The constant prodding driving you
through razorblade fields of grey
laughing at the cleaving of darkness and light
as crimson beads of sorrow fall like rain,
going drip, drip, drip in time
with the beating of your heart.
I am the solitude that surrounds you,
a blade of grass among the trees,
a homeless vagabond in the doorway.
I take from you slumbers sweetness,
pillaging your dreams, leaving an echo
painted grey and blue.
I come to you dressed as the night
stealing your North Star to hide it
within the folds of my robes.
I am the gilded lie whispered in your ear,
the belligerent guest that won’t leave
and though you try and sedate me
and hate me, I will always be
that ink stain on your white shirt.
My name stings as it lingers on your cracked lips,
I am Melancholia.
copyright 2010

An older poem written after my divorce when the world seemed very black.
 Dec 2015 Jeffrey Pua
 Dec 2015 Jeffrey Pua
/                                  /             /           /    /           /    /
/             /                       //          /        / /        /
/           /     /    /             /                       /        /       /    /
//               /        /     ••        /               /    / /
/      /           /      •••   /                 /   /
/            /         •lift me up over-          /             /
/      /    head•for i only seek to shelter    /      //
          you•from the sun who'd scorch you red          /
•from monsoon rains that'll chill you blue•you
may at times think i'm cumbersome to carry•when
the winds of change put you in all kinds of weather•
but i can collapse and fold... i stow away easy•keep me
close and i will spring to your aid... whenever, wherever•
such           is my           pro-   ••   mise           to...           you•
•                   •                  •       ••      •                  •                   •
•••            cta-                   
•••          ble                 

soon you'll find my words to be true•
that i'd forever be your brolly
For my family.

Concrete Poem 22 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
cupid's small arrow
is a fly speck compared to
the axe of lost love
The gushing
wind has slept
upon your
extended dreamy  
Playing with
my heart
away gently
each wakeful
glittery star dust
for the artfelt
sensation  *
of seeing  * *
them snow * *

and land   * *  
softly upon * *
your sweet *

swell cherry *

full mouth *
u t t e r l y * *

d e l i c i o us *

Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
It is the hour of always, at this time
you are obvious in my eye
and wispy layers of vivid thoughts
gather in the grace of sentiment
embellishing the sounds of a frail mind
It is the hour of always
at this time, I cannot heed a blink’s delay
suspended on the lid  of a solitary thought;
running to your side
                                                                ­     A second is three days away
                                                            ­                                    I cannot wait

   I am me in the absence of me
losing ground within your stance
arriving in your arms
drowning slowly in place
I am sound within your hands
I am graceless in the kindness of your gaze.
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