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my eyes at sunset,
a warmth snuggle to my back;
orphaned mongrel’s love!
Sepia sown as best it can
Where you and I, as one, once ran
Across, beyond a savoured sea
Where lust became reality.
Where spiraled lust, intwined, entrenched
Left you gasping, pale, enbenched...
a figment of a thought, now lost
Forever..at what cost, what cost?
M.
And the snow was melting from the hills;
Green was glowing down in the north pasture;
Crocuses were bucking a hard west wind;
Calving was swinging on, and spring barns to muck,
And you were yelling about some thing or other,
The way you always do, or the way you always did,
Back in the day when you were here,
And I was just a lazy kid.

Dad, you remain somehow this giant in my mind,
Sleeping or waking,
I see you still,
Hear your voice,
Watch you running
One job to the next,
Passionate about everything,
Restless and without rest,
Some nameless demon chasing you,
Pulling the rest of us in your wake.

So the last three nights I've seen you,
Sat at table across from you
To discuss my leaving the farm:
You concerned I was a fool to go,
And I convinced I could not stay.

I wish I knew the hold you have on me
Six years gone with you away, and me,
Two states removed and a career nearly done,
Still finding myself waking from dreams
That linger vivid on.
Dad, I still miss you. I guess this grieving never ends.
hospital smells yell,
Each narrative more loud;
redemption silent!
 Apr 2018 Left Foot Poet
Sjr1000
when the moon was
red
The ocean luminescent
she was a starry
eyed girl
with a northern star
and a direction to go

Epiphanies unfold
like ribbons in
the winds

Decisions
they come
in wishful
longing
or
careful planning

Throwing caution to the wind
she took the first boat to
the island.

There he waited, an
apprentice to an ancient art
Preoccupied and isolated

She of the northern
star
had a sense of
direction

Settling into a
parallel universe

They were like
two kiwi bushes
across a fence
3 years later in
vined embrace
Produced the fruit
that never ripened
and over night
was gone.

She took the
last boat back
the northern star was
encased in fog
But
the southern cross
She couldn't miss it.
I have a true story. Unbelievable, but true.
You have one too.
This too is true.
It's so unbelievable I can't tell you,
As you cannot tell me.
I think mine more far-fetched,
And you think the same of yours.
You wouldn't believe me,
I won't believe yours,
Even though yours is probably more believable.

It's a secret, but not a secret,
Because I want to but won't tell it...
Because who'd believe it.
They'd sooner believe in voodoo... not true.
Why tell a truth none believe.
It has a dangerous intrinsic result.
What personal good is found
In crosses, nooses and needles.
There's truth there, but refutable truth.
Unbelievable truth.
There's the sticking point.

I'm scared.
I'm silent.

It helps me understand broken hearts and crushed spirits.
The lonely, hungry lost stories of the unfathomable.
Believe me. Don't believe me.
The result's the same.

Legends, myths, folklore tales grow
Because the whole truth went untold,
And mixed with a partial lie,
Becomes our reality.

So, I'm reticent to share mine.
I'm open to hearing yours,
If it's what you say it is.
But I doubt it.
a sunday afternoon
in the lingering indian summer
provides paradoxes
my husband has sat down
in the inflatable pool with icecream
to watch a game of rugby league,

the winter blankets wave gaily
out on the clothesline, dry less
than an hour after having been hung

my boy watches black ants feast
on spilt hot chocolate and marshmallows
on the too hot to stand cement path

and the tuxedo cat lays in the shallows
of the pond, fishing tadpoles unsuccsessfully
I pity the rugby players it is 34deg celcius where they are playing...
and yes the devon rex tuxedo has no fear of water... often found in the pond..... but he only goes out side with supervision...and has not yet figured out the distortion/ refraction effects of water
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