Mornings window
Creased with the night's vestiges
Peer over glasses
At the gathering sunlight
As the day builds
Cars tumble by rough road
Occupants have all eyes but blurred faces
Pierce the shadow of my hunched form
My fingers fly the keyboard
Steady flow of human words
Fall without grace but speed
A homage to the missing man
Where am I in this place
Where was I on this date
Shutter mornings window
Too old to care

Train station three am
The morning runners slowly file by
Catch a hot one headed to
To labor in the canyons of industry
Between concrete and
Virtual world electronic

Train station three thirty-five am
The grass is wet
With intermittent rain
Quiet descends between trains
One by they gather at the edge
Of the track glancing for
Distant train lights approaching
Ebb and flow humanity
Among the decorative station
A silent statue gazes north

Train station four am
The man with the cart slowly
Rolls to parking lot edge
Selling hot coffee and confections
A man with sleep still clinging
To his disheveled form
The late runners catch the doors
As they shut

Train station microcosm
Of a world in motion

I offer no offense
But my solitary wandering
Yet they are offended

Nothing but my handcrafted
Stone dragging behind
Like a ***** with his fragments of beauty
And thus my offense fills
The air they breath
So cannot help but be offended
By mere existence alone

The stone lost roadside long ago
But in my heart
I still feel the full bitter weight
Round my weary, weary heart

And so they remain offended
By my solitary wandering
Like a ***** with his fragments
Of decayed beauties
Still wishing a rose could be...

But it is an offense

It's a silent place
Where men such as this
Come to settle up the debt
To balance the books
All that could have been
All that was
And the difference you made
In the lives around you
People known and unknown
In your time before
The passing room

The brine water
Lay heavy on his mind
Leaving him wrapped in
Thick gauze of wounded mind
The brine water
A trap from which no escape
Thick and cloying
A drug-induced waking dream state

The brine water is a trap
That lures the unwary
With golden whispered promise
But once you enter it's cool touch
Entombed in it you will become
Forever enamored by its sparkling lure
The brine water
Lay heavy on his mind

For the wakefulness edge of sleep
Does he dream of his room
Under a northern sky
Brine water invades it's familiarity
Slowly fills with its cold dark water
Obscures what we once smiled
Obscures where we once
Ran free and wild under
The never-ending sunlight

Slow crawl across
The new river
Currents pull me askew
Day unfortunate plays the devil
With my feet of clay
Stumble and recover
Is the method of my escape

Spare a dime brother
Won't you give to the crippled and poor
The Spend Thrift Scottish Way
Give a hand but never the word for the wise
Give leverage off your sickbed but never really leave it

The drunkard and the feeble share their thought
Boycott the Spend Thrift Scottish Way
Throw glass and nails on the path
We will sink them in our turn
Sly smile between brothers of the road
They have got you down
But they can't defeat you at your own game

It's a slow crawl across the New River
To see the King Of Clubs
But I have all day and nowhere else to go
Spare me a dime brother
Spare me the Spend Thrift Scottish Way

Born to the way of the wind
To spread wings and know
The life of the skies
To hear its wind song
to see the majesty
In the eternal clockwork
Of sun and stars

Ages pass like silent machinery
As the world below
Ebbs and flows
Along with the whims and designs
Of life breathing its births and deaths
Expelling the weary
Whisper in the new bright-eyed youth
that is the way of life
the way of the wind
And the world without care
Breaths on and on

He was born to be
that adventurer
Born to the way of the wind
Intrepid and carefree
He tread the sky like a trailblazer
Painter, Poet, Troubadour and Wiseman
Now we wait with him
To see what path is yet to come
Now we all await carefree
The choosing of our own
Way of the wind

The steering current turns north
Bringing wild winds stirring
As the massive storm stalks us
From far past horizon
I keep watch to the gathering rains fall
As my silent brother sleeps
Would try to pry him awake
But we no longer speak the same language
My mutterings no longer register

Hours become days
As the storm unwinds
Sometimes the sun breaks the rain
And my lost brother can speak
Do you remember this...
Remember that...
What's to discuss when you are not home
What's to endorse our liberty's
When you're tied to a bed

A storm stalks far over the naked horizon
The promise of her ferocity tasted in the
Stirring wind
Rain and a wicked flood
That will shred hearth and home
But my sleeping brother lay safe
In the confines of his mind
Sleep bother sleep on and on
Rest easy longliner
The sea awaits

He wrestles with the blanket
trying by sheer strength of will
to swim out of the deepening tide waters
that overwhelm him
as unseen hands hold him back

no longer am I a brother
I am a stranger tugging at him
as he tries to flee
some unseen danger that troubles his mind

Difficult to stand and watch
difficult to write

He wrestles with the blanket
and curses his accusers
slanders the mediocracy of such an end
to a life lived unapologetically
I never knew that you were so strong
till that strength was gone
fare the well longliner
a son of the sea
may the waves rock you gentle to sleep
long blissful sleep

I sit bedside
and listen to the stirrings of his mind
snake their way through reason and folly
see the flashes of the rational come and go
watch the man I had come to call brother and friend
as he wanders the borderlands
between the light of awareness
and the dark of the illness that laid him low

He has not died
but lingers in half-life
like a man tied to a heavy stone
trying to drag it back to the light
while darkness creeps behind robbing him of the notion
he is a Sisyphus of the modern-day
treading the same steps over and over
while I sit in vigil bedside
hoping to catch him aware and awake
a chance to fare thee well
rest now brother
brave brave brother

I stand here by your side in dark or light
vigil for the man who is not gone
who wrestles with the darkness
in favor of light

She was fairytale pretty
in a sky blue chiffon
bare footed and soul on display
both deep blue sea
and wild young day

She gazed at you with inquisitive
but never said a word
leaving it to your own heart to read the lines unwritten
in the pale beauty of her lips

She seems painted there
a portrait of intensities
on the hardwood floor
where sunlight carves its path
across it's worn wooden heart

She is forever there in sunlight

Heroes wear all kinds of uniforms,
and call many places home,
but standing the line for Democracy
they are all just as tall and just as brave

Who was this man
who ventured to a distant land
to defend it from an invader
they are not his people
this was not his home
but he stood the line for Democracy
he stood the line proud and tall
and died

He was my Brother
He was my Father
He was my Friend
He was a good man
He stood the line for Democracy

The long hours slip by
weariness clings to me
thoughts become frayed
like a flag that whips in a cold wind
you can feel it snapping on the winds-cutting edge
that sound...that feeling consumes me

Will I meet my end shredded by all
I have withstood
will the strength to endure
be my undoing
by resisting I can no longer resist

Like a soldier I stand fast my ground
Like an apostle of night
I strip and kneel at the alter
hoping not to be called upon to rise
hoping not to know
all I fear to know

Fear and Doubt
are the Twin Gods
who fight within every man's soul
the rack and ruin of their battle
lay wasteland to a man's vision
of what is and what could be

Hold that line
Stand Fast that hope
Let the symbol of your heart stand against the wind

Wind sweeps me along
like the dry old leaves of yesteryear
dry and brittle
imprinted forever with the
memory of long languid summer
faded now to dark browns
far afield from the lively green
that was youth
ever-growing
never-ending
ever alive with all that I could do
but never did
dark sounds the bell that tolls
a dark song that only whispers sing
I am swept up into a stone-wrought doorway
and I nestle my sleepy head into its comfortable corner
sleep comes soon
restful wakefulness that is the edge of dreams
sleep comes nearer
and away, away with all the discomforts of life
watch them fall away like a veil of tears
away, away goes I into the sleep of ages
a new leaf born into the next world

I sweat a puddle 'neath my chair
so hot unbearable
neath my chair
The cat holds up near the AC
wild-eyed and silent
waiting for me to move
because nothing else can in all this fire hot air
is he sweating too
all that fur gotta be pure ******
but he has the soul of a saint
and the heart of a lion
I hear the lesbian next door chanting
something at four-am
but the sound is muffled as it is sweet
I sweat a puddle 'neath my chair
been roasting alive for near ten days straight
and my head is swimming
eyes can't see straight
but the cat
he knows the game
he will wait till I move
cause nothing else can in this fire hot air

I lay in the shroud of shadows
while the steady rain soaks my bones
the liquid becomes my eyes
the sound becomes my soul

I lay on a bed of last falls leaves
they crumble at the touch
but give a sense of comfort from the hard ground
and cling to me like dreams and wishes unfulfilled

I lay under the scant cover of this ancient tree
and watch for signs of sunrise in the cloud-locked sky
and whisper invocations of some deity unnamed

I lay in a shroud of shadows
waiting to see
what cannot be seen
waiting to feel what I have never felt
take this misery from my eye

I barely write anymore
my heart cannot take the honesty
that my hands speak with the keyboard
after all who wants to know the truth
when the lie comforts in the darkness

I know that I lie to myself
tell myself it will "be alright"
but after sixty years it wears thin
but I will keep up appearances
keep up "the fight"
that I surrendered to thankfully
how can you fight for something that
you know is not real
No princess is going to rescue me
No bright future lay before me
right round the next bend
just a little further on
keep walking, keep moving forward

I know I lie to myself

I lay figuratively naked
washed ashore from a dark sea
alone in my room
alone with the thoughts that scare me
I twitch thru the movements of living
fits and starts
trying to not look too hard at what I do
lest I see the fruits of my labors
poisoned tree
poisoned mind

I lay figuratively naked
on the empty bed
starving slowly
crawling like a dog without moving
crying like a ***** as my visage melts away
I try to numb
but I am too alive to feel it
but I am too dead to deny it
sounds rudely awaken me
no rest for the wicked
no rest in a dark sea

I figuratively run fast as I can
not being able to breath
I figuratively speak to you
in rhythm without rhyme
I am figuratively still alive
in this dark sea

Wrapped in the warm
prison of the bedsheets
a cold foot sneaks past
and dangles in the air at the
end of the bed

I shiver like sailors of old
in this cold wind that blows
across my toes

I wrestle the blanket
for the sleep it maintains
all elbows and thumbs
****** this way and that
restless wanderers of designer sheets

I shiver like sailors of old
in this cold wind that blows
across my toes

As I grumble
look to the clock
Four AM glares back at me
a cold foot wiggles
a cold foot waggles
Ode to be a cold foot
sorrowful tale to be sure

I shiver like sailors of old
in this cold wind that blows
across my toes

The further away we may wander,
the closer to the heart our olden days become
the people who welcomed us
the places we danced
the music that still lingers in the air
with the love of a dream still shared...

The further away we may wander
we love each new adventure
never knowing where the road may lead
but we will always fondly look back
to the many homes our hearts have known
and wish upon wish to share our adventures
and roads with the people who celebrate our joy...

The further away we may wander,
we come to realize
places are meant to be left behind
but the smiles and loves we found there
will forever be part of who we are

beauty is a terrible force of nature,
terrible in its wrath for the heart that loves it,  
terrible in its burden to the heart that carries it,
terrible to the heart that beholds it and cannot embrace it...

beauty is adoration of all lovely thoughts and hopes,
beauty is adoration of all that is found and lost again in the heart,
beauty is adoration of the sweetest dreams that we wish we could never wake from...

Beauty speaks to you in a silent lust for what cannot ever be yours alone,
Beauty speaks of all the lives one could live in such a sweet natural place,
beauty speaks of how it can never be happy because so many fear it

My know it all grin
plastered on the pavement
as I'm given the boot from another
home sweet home
"not so fast, slick..."
should have heard it
should have known it
but pride and folly are my calling cards...
now I must gather up my gear
and flee on down the road
eviction notice pinned on my ***...
they are gonna laugh
probably throw a party
done given me the boot
good and hard
shake me loose from my tree...
should have heard it
should have known it
but pride and folly
are my calling cards...
so wish me luck on down the road
I'm gonna need it
with that dumb
know it all grin of mine
plastered on the pavement

thoughts once so clear
now flee en mass like
small birds scattering in the wind...
try to capture one
and it fades to dust in my
trembling hand
my eyes teared up by the loss...
what was her name...
when was it I smiled like the
sun bursting through the clouds on that day...
where did I misplace that long-sought device...
where have all my yesterdays gone...
all escapes along the shifting winds of age
small beautiful birds
plumage so bright and beautiful to behold
loves and laughter, days of wonder and joy
crumble into dust as my forgetful fingers
pry at their edges, trying to recall...
her yesterday was my forever
do you think she remembers me? ...
as I slip into forgetfulness
I hope that I will no longer remember
to mourn my forgotten yesterdays...
age is coming for me
and iv forgotten how to tame that ugly beast

lesser forms of sunshine
each a design dreamt long ago
each a blissful madness of joy
they invade the room through the open window
while the shadow of a man recites "Hamlet"
in a cold gravel voice
a prince born of such a bold pen
such a tale forever told yet again

"Hamlet" reaches the end of his nonsense verse
no tragedy of princes can tell the whole tale
there is always the love so long restrained
that bursts all the inhibitions and makes
the world all about her

a prince born of such a bold pen
such a tale forever told yet again
penned by figures clouded in mysteries created
a name that is known to every house and citadel
speaking to a world he never could imagine
all these centuries later
his words still stir

I am so tired
it seeps out my eyes
turns my bones to turmoil and grief
weariness wears me like a suit
adorns my movement like chains
dragging my thoughts out by the hours
days weeks
there is no laughter here in the silent room
of my sleepless night
there is only the ghostly glow of the television
its utterance soft-spoken lie
"sleep my friend" it taunts me
"dream as a child would
carefree and filled with smiles"
but my restless eyes wander the cracks
in the ceiling
my weary thoughts grind over the same
same same same things over and over
I am so tired
why can I not sleep

For some freedom is a goal never achieved
but only dreamt,
for some, it is the adoration of an idealism that is placed on a
pedestal to remain forever just a symbol...
But for the wild and untamed it is the very breath sharply taken in
at majestic beauties beheld with a loving eye,
for the wild and untamed freedom is the heart unbound and adventuring
in the many fold wonders of the world...
I see in you such a wild and untamed soul,
be that freedom's torch that sets fire to those souls that yearn and dream...
be that freedom that lights the way
©2022 Junor

I came lookin'
lookin' far an' wide
for some cumbersome thing
that I could weigh myself down with
keep me from drifting away
something heavy
something true
a big thing
a tiny thing
just need a few moments of clarity
just for a moment where troubles cease
just one moment of knowing
just one moment resting assured
all is safe and sane in my world
all is good between you and I
that it has all not been
a silent recording
whispers never shouted
a photograph of the lens cap
Been looking high and low
for an encumbrance that could keep me here
to be able to hear you sing that song
without missing you
without wanting  
without fear

It isn't the quality of the words that measure truth
it's the men we all see with such clear eyes
Two brothers trapped in a pitched battle
echoes of their roots displayed in a contest of wills
two brothers follow the same dream
two brothers dance the same songs
We can never stop being who we are
we can grow thriving under a perfect sun
but our roots forever spread from the single source
our birthplace and home
Two brothers trapped in a pitched battle
find peace at last in each others truth
we are the same inside the dream
we are fellow travelers
whose nature it is to find hope and love
in the cloudiest of days

That day
one I will never forget
my brother set me free
he let me fly like the wind

he removed the training wheels of my life
and set me in motion
that day I found the joy of
two wheels and the wind in my hair

now old age creeps up upon me
but I still have two wheels and the wind
I still fly
my brother set me free
let me fly like the wind

poetry ©2021 Mark Junor

the world is a changed place,
what we became familiar with is gone,
we must either change with the world
or be pushed aside by it...
I have chosen to embrace the coming world
and trying to learn the "new way"

every night we dance under
the silver moonlight
every night we spin the tale
of friends lovers and delight
every night we learn the smiles shared
our joys take flight
every morning comes
our dreams bourne of night
slipway into the torn stars as they fade
till night again

I love her,
iv not always known her,
but I do know that I have always loved her,
she was the dream I always had,
she is that golden moonlight that
reflected within joyous tears

The love lost will be forever enshrined
within the warmest places of my heart,
such sweet sorrow for...
wait, what's your name again???

to be so eloquent of mind
but the mouth is locked
what sweet river that flows in the heart
betrayed by the tongue
this maddening speech
a struggle to say
a struggle to be heard
the stammer does not define me
despite it tripping my boot at every turn
to be so eloquent of mind
with the tongue so twisted

Her elegant day
welcomes her
subtle and sweet evening
dances in amongst the fallen leaves
barely touching ground
She floats along
a melody only she can feel
Delicate she moves
Delicious her carefree smile
as she lingers the moment
As she lay the foundations of
lace and flowers
on the mantle of the moon
making it forever
romantic in its fiery glow
As she dances softly silently
dances among the fallen leaves

There at the heart of the nation a great edifice
a temple if you will
erected to reflect the very best and greatest hopes of a nation.
While the cities burn
is it swift breaking dawn of a new age for the Republic,
or is it a last whispering death rattle of Democracy that we witness from the steps of these hallowed grounds
I tell myself not to fear
our nation has struggled through many great trials
to have found its way back from many dark days...
yet, still, the cities burn...
yet still, our nation divided...
We can only stand on these steps of Lincoln's epitaph
bear silent witness and hope
hope

there are symphonies in the silence
there are forests of thoughts
to be had in the space between
when she storms out the door
and when the loneliness sneaks in

she called out as she passed on by
in that transient light faded and glorious
that her caring enriched every single glance
simple and endearing
forever lingering in her most loving eyes
that held me in my moving gracefully away
into the warm nights unspoken mystery
into the tale once so carefully crafted...

she called out as she passed on by
it wasn't the words that captured me
it was all the loves my life has known
laid out before me like playing cards
forever hoping for that lavish reward
just a chance to turn it all in one simple motion
back to the enduring light i once found
so quick yet so fleeting that i only
had time to embrace
before the song ended...

she called out as she passed on by
it wasn't the words that stirred me
it was her hand holding mine
that connection that i have always cherished
simple and beautiful and oh so true...
making my heart younger in its true warmth...
making my days all run together into
a sweet symphony of images of time shared
a sweet melody of moments enshrined forever
in my loving eyes

she called out as she passed on by
but it wasn't her words that were music to me
it was all the loves my heart has known
framed in the reflection of her eyes

we danced like we were in paris
danced like lovers under a summer moon
everyone saw us
everyone loved us
the beautiful songs played
while we breathed the romantic night air
wrapped in each others arms
entwined in each others hearts
we were the center of the beautiful world
we were swept away on a sea of love
forever in each heartbeat
forever in each others eyes
we danced like we were in paris
we danced like lovers do
we were the center of the beautiful world
the light shined all around us
everyone saw us
everyone loved us
they all whispered how lovely we were
marveled at how we danced so beautifully
we were beautiful
we danced like we were in paris
till the song faded away
we were the center of the beautiful world
we were paris
till the song faded away

a storm rode up slow on the sea's horizon
filling our senses with its wild winds
we spent that night passing a bottle of crisp wine
by candlelight while the sea rocked us
like children in the cradle
but our laughter and words were
so alive with long roads
so rich with our full years

morning found us taking on water
so we turned to make haste
for some near uncharted island haven
and we beached her on untainted sands
with its stretch of palms and gentle *****
while sailing master worked mend sail, patch hull
we walked far up the shore and found a secluded spot
and there i lay with you
drinking in your taste and body
feasting with you on the sweetbreads of our love
till we were full and were left with only soft smiles

we sailed once again as dawn overtook the sky
sound once more and making good time
with a beautiful salt breeze in our sail
beating to windward
with a loving song to our hearts
these the days that my heart will cherish
these are the living dreams that
my worlds foundations are built upon
i knew i would marry you
you knew i would always be yours
from this day till time cease

looked into you
a stranger who comes up slowly
I color with magic markers the darkness in your eye
make it as pretty as you wished
hide it all away
I sleep each night inches away
from your slow walking fear
as you toy with silk strewn lusts
sweet asylum that is never too close

I looked to you but could not be seen
so a lament came to my wicked lips
mumbled a carpet of apologies
spread out 'neath your feet
as you dip one toe into the waters
you called me
but when I looked to you
you looked away

there is a ship that sails tonight
I can see us on it
we wave bye-bye in slow motion capture
I can see the joy in your eye
dance cheek to cheek under the moonlight
shine cause I know you like to touch dreams
breathe for me girl
just keep dancing 'neath starry sky
ill crash your dark weddings
catch your tears before they can fall
be waiting on your morning doorstep
look into you
just for you
not that someone
in a dark wedding day

all of our kisses with giggles
for her it's like the first steps of a lovers dance
how wonderfully dizzy it makes you feel
how you long to be lost in those moments
for her it's like a taste of forever
for her it is us
all the moments of us
all the passion and light
all the lefts with the rights

all of our kisses with giggles
treasures them like jewels sparkling
like reflections of the sky in a summer rains puddle
heavens are found in the simplest lovers embrace
and renders them in deep flowing waking dreams
with all the colors of a hearts rainbow
all the moments of us
passion and light

all of our kisses with giggles
naked in the night while we lay entwined
adorned in latest fashion among the beautiful people
wherever our lovely hearts wander
are the moments of us
a lovers dance that captivates us
lost in her while she's in lost in me
a new heaven found each day in her embrace
a sweeter song in her every loving word
all the moments of us
all the passion and light
all the lefts with the rights

A single page of her
fills her lover's world
ardent appetite to be cradled like the  
adoration of a mortal unexceptional goddess
who sometimes has high-heeled shoes of clay
leaves her and her lover to waver among
joys shared blissfully diffused by tears shed quietly
A single page of her is written
with the fundamental spirit of a lust for love
an ambition to live loves dream
which is center to every man and womans heart
A single page of her is provender for the soul
with a common language of immortal romantic notions

A single page of her
just a human being
with another human being
just an exceptional love within an uncomplicated heart
softly written open to lights of loving warmth

A single word of her
fills the canvas with brilliant colors
takes on the shapes of this feverish love affair
takes on the hue's of these hearts at ease
that wrestle each other naked souls
then cleave to each other with a dire thirst
A single word of her statuesque illustration
histories and futures softly spoken in the animated night
expressions of this average celestial throne
this world of exceptional average simple beauties
A single word of hers
that i have never actually heard
but knowing its there unspoken in her eyes
just a human being

A single picture of her
fills a poet's hands with rich verse
words laden with potent essence within their expression
as wild as the wind in the deepest part of the rain
as enriched as breathing exaltation and splendor
her photograph pasted to the mirror's edge
as if she were a reflection of dreams
as if perfection had a name
A single picture of her
embroidered by a light that shines
only from some souls
a warmth that greets every passing stranger
an intensity that verges on fire

A single moment of her time
leaves impressions upon you that will breathe within you
growing in the remembrance
like roses upon the vine
interwoven and lovely in the warm light
just a human being
but she will always be
just Kristen

© 2018 mark john junor all rights reserved

flowers grow in the holes
of her ever more romantic dreamin's
she fills in the picture with pastel hero's
their colors fade then fire as her passions run
vivid at a moment's of his heartfelt embrace
faded as his wicked smile fails to ******
she is drawn to the artistic brief time in hand
fascinated by the workings of the mysterious mind
how create rainbows from the dusty nuance expressed
create love from an abundance of words delicately devoted
cede to the child hand within us
the joy and discovery
making gentle rain from the hard snow
of making yesterdays into an epiphany of beauty lost
how to be the source and author of true loves song

while she is taming the mare
he trims the overgrowth
while she entertains with tea and crumpets
he is chopping the wood
while she dances within loves light
he chips away at the stone hearth
these are no lovers
just strangers embraced

her inner field of flowers
a swath of rose red bordered by summer greens
ever an insurrection against winters hand
saving every sprout and budding leaf
single-handedly stemmed the tide
as Autumn steals away with all of the summers life
he is her part-time hero
obsessed with his grand gesture
dismissive of the intangible cold touch
she paints him in pastel
but his is a life of watercolor running in the rain
a minister of hammers
the only spark within is that
of the violence of the iron wrought anvil
no heartstring to gather up
to weave a life from

she will mourn his leaving
caught up in the divinity
always found in yesterday's sorrows
bound in the confines of her heart
he will always be the part-time hero
he will never leave
in the loss of yesterday's sorrows

her entrance was full of
beautiful blue-hued stars
filled with the nuance of a touch of romance
inspired by her i make clear announcements to my heart
that this daughter of moonlight
treads the path to my dreams
alone scatters pages of rose scented poems
along my veins to the point of creations fire
even her tears spent for me are gracious and kindness

after her entrance
blue stars settle on the bare floor
in exquisite patterns that flavor the minds meal
that lends its rich texture and sensations to the bodies temple
she lay in repose like a field of summer wheat swaying
in the cool breeze
she lay in the folds of my blankets
like the queen of hearts
a luscious liquid in her every move
softly she speaks every embracing word
that cools your heated brow
comforts your beating heart
she knows just what to say to ease you
she knows just how to weave you

beneath her entrance
her barefoot leavings are a track
that have led many to their unwitting tale of woe
where from a great distance can they
with longing and tender expressions put to page
placed ever so delicately into envelopes
headed for the mythical west coast
the land of palms and glitz
forever summer
in the land of golden statues

after her entrance
i have within my grasp
a poem of her
a poem of her moment
a rich tapestry that is woven into
the fabric of her Paris fashion catalogue
where she is a French princess in prints 8"x10" glossy

poems © 2018 mark john junor all rights reserved

the muse of her daytime mind
cast in paper and plaster
burns in effigy of her wandering heart
directionless tones seep from beneath her lip
as her hot eyes scatter place to place
in the neatness of arranged stuffed animals
who neither claim or deny
just gather dust like a memorial to the passing ages

the 8th muse sits entwined
in the onslaught of the forest's burning desire
to grow unchecked by man's hand
to grow despite the sea of grey gripping the sky

her bland flesh
in pastel colors
just clings to the rain
running like makeup under tears
and the handcrafted sketches
of paper-thin smiles
are but a foretaste of masterpieces to come
she will find her own Sistine Chapel
for her soul to wrestle
she will find the word redemption
and know its meaning to the core of her soul
© 2018 mark john junor all rights reserved