My mind is constipated, I try to force
upon the bowels of my mind but nothing
is versed, only flatulence of syllables
that linger in the air.

Gagging on the stench was released outwards,
others cringe at what was versed in
needing of a release. I look upon the laxative
of imagery and I feel my mind soften up.

My pen sits on the white waiting for a release,
without warning a vocalization is forced slowly.
I spray my syllables on to the white, relaxed that
the congestion is released, words flow eagerly out.

my town
where wild flowers grow
between tram tracks.
there was a time when
it was hardly morning,
no bridge into daylight.

walls had ears,
neighbors had eyes
whispering behind the curtains
there was an emptiness in the guts
of the city
and poetry locked in the drawers,
Borges was read under the blankets
while Dostoievski was  a comforter:
demons were embedded.

yeah, people were clapping and smiling
watching the nub of history, numb
they had a life to live,
what can you say?

one day the radio
burst on in the streets
some were shivering in the attic
"we are free", they said
"we are free",
came the echo in trance

"shhhhh"! said others,
let us wipe the blood
don't disturb the sacrificed
so we can sleep
without dreams

it's Thursday in my town
streets are weary
and our souls are
slowly expanding

in the blossoming,
the sweet, sweet,
echoing blossoming
of our love

i hear stars
wrapped to the sky,

i hear the
curves of a
bridge sigh
like a
blue sea,

i hear the
infinite splendours
of you,
mild and
shadowy like
the sky,

i hear dark notes
and light notes,
blue clouds
sweeping full
of longing
and song,

and i hear poetry
so sweet and
delicate,
that my soul
starts to shiver
melting
like the song.

You are a lie

Don’t - life slips through your fingers
Even Poe could not grasp time
Stop hiding in illusions, coward
You are a lie
Shattering another’s dreams
Even if you don’t understand
The destruction you cause
One day you will wake up
To the reality of ‘what ifs’
As you look at withered hopes
And dreams that you hide behind
You are a lie

Kelly Rose
© March 13, 2017