Linda Pahl

May 2014

Emily Dickinson

599

There is a pain—so utter—
It swallows substance up—
Then covers the Abyss with Trance—
So Memory can step
Around—across—upon it—
As one within a Swoon—
Goes safely—where an open eye—
Would drop Him—Bone by Bone.

May 2014

bones

Too deep

Under my skin
and my bones is a room
nobody visits
nor anyone see's

it's dark and it's cool
and it's mine and the rules
like the gaps in it's walls
are governed by me;

comfortably safe
by myself in this place,
a question persistently
troubles my sleep

has all the pretence
that's been it's defence
saved me or left me
buried too deep.

May 2014

bones

For sunworshippers everywhere.

I like the sound the rain makes
I like to hear it land
with the thunderous drumming
of a punk rock band.
I like it dancing off the roof tiles
tapping at the glass
tickling the fields
although its quieter on grass.
I like its change in rhythm
as it navigates trees
the ragged umbrellas
that Im standing underneath.
I like it playing percussion
on the surface of the sea
when the only people still outside
are listening like me.
I like the sound the rain makes
wherever it lands
I like the sound the rain makes
but I also understand
your devotion to the sun
so theres a possibility
if you listen to the rain fall
you might understand me.

and I quite like the wind too.
I like the sound the wind makes
blah blah blah. :o)

Linda Pahl May 2014

In Her Eyes

Her eyes reflect a sadness
that I long to understand
so I'll swim in pools of hazel
float upon warm salty tears
that will flow onto her *****
be absorbed into her skin
catch a ride within the network
of veins leading to her heart
I'll immerse in her dark secrets
read the stories hidden there
maybe then I can unfathom
sorrows of my lady fair

Linda Pahl, 5/23/14

#eyes #sadness

Linda Pahl May 2014

Toro Hembra

Tonight you’re in costume, the grand toreador
Feeling pride in the getup, of bull fighters lore

You smile as you’re thinking, that you look quite fine
And hope that you’ll get, to the ball right on time

One last look in the mirror, you head for the door
You’ll never return, to this life as before

You run two by two, down the stairs to the street
And think of the party, and who you might meet

The cape that you carry, flows red in the breeze
Has just caught my eye, for one moment I freeze

Then lower my head, hooves scratching the ground
Come charging and snorting, as you whirl around

My eyes of a blue that do mesmerize you
Horns mighty and deadly and ready to do

What many brave fighters have done to my kind
I’ll gore you with pride, then I’ll leave you behind

Linda Pahl, 5/18/14

This is my first ever poem.

At 61, I'm a tad late to the party, eh?

To see the image that inspired me to write it:
http://instagram.com/p/oVXkUvzd3t/