Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Seven Nielsen Apr 2021
in rain-pour thoughts, I wandered lost
and could not guess the dreaded cost
among the drops of hopes and fears
which were rain, and which were tears?
Seven Nielsen Apr 2021
Pity the wolf that hungers after unattainable flesh
and the man who hem-haws excuses
to a boss, a wife, or a critic with a tapping foot
and a walrus mustache beneath a gin-blossomed schnozz
and above a smoke-coffee breath
just waiting to jump in with a negative judgment
and superior attitude

Pity the lamb that encounters the wolf
with a last hoof-dance of submission before dying
in choked and bleeding silence
to be wolfed down -
or the haughty judge or the humble sojourner
one on the high bench
and the other on the low flame
remaining in the tepid zone
never hot enough to burn away the betrayals of "friends"
who giggle and smirk
the minute he leaves a room
because of jealous burrs beneath
their burdensome self-imposed saddles

Evict the aching heart of "might be love"
but also beware of the heart of "just for now"
in spite of a flirt at the punch bowl
or a punch at the Super Bowl -
(they are the same thing in a way)
so
if you enter the competition
remember
the trophy doesn't have a palpitating heart
but the loser does
and so does the winner in anticipation of the judgments;
bad, good, or best in show
or even the gray-skinned badge of
"also-ran"

                                    ~~~

Envy the poor without schedule or purse
and no merciless fear of competition
nor door key to hunt-up under the dusty mat
in the dark, alone
nor houseplant to **** with the over-kindness of drowning
nor hinge to mend with duct tape and false hope
but he who flits away to nothing important
whenever
having no one to object

Envy the friendless who can storm off from a spat
without compunction or a "maybe I should have"
trailing like toilet paper
stuck on the heel
of a shoe

Envy the humiliated caterpillar
who finds himself to be a moth
instead of the monarch butterfly
he thought he would be
when he emerges from his cocoon
thinking it was a chrysalis
because the responsibilities end
when the burden of beauty is lost
and the new moth will soon forget
what might have been
in the constant effort of plain existence

Evict the housefly posing as a harmless spot
and throw away his home
that rotting plumb
because the fruit of deceit is worse
than the deceit of fruit gone bad
on the hidden side
to feed the filthy insect in secret

Does a raven learn to speak on his own?
 Never
Does a raven learn to steal on his own?
 Always

Where there is darkness, there is learning
where there is light, there is teaching
and always resentment or boasting
so learn to keep your mouth shut in the dark
until you learn a secret or two
then you can chat like a hairdresser
until you trip up a braggart trying to outdo everyone
because an unmasked lie is like water cast on a single flame
stifling a forest fire before its first real heartbeat
    
Envy the tiny grains of sand on the shores
for they hold back the mighty seas
with their tiny hands
and are flattered by the lapping waves
like slaves with ostrich-plume-fans
worshipping in genuflections and kowtows
endlessly
and all in the most genuine humility
that sand can muster in a crowd

                                   ~~~

Envy the coils of the brain
for they are there to provide more surface
and those folds have no scintillating hue like blood
for the elephant is gray and the ladybug is red
one can think and **** with a step
but the other can fly but must soon perish
the brain can reason
but blood turns black and dies
when it comes into light and air

Evict the vivid for it will give up the ghost
and
envy the drab for it will inherit the girth

                                  ~~~

Pity your own resolve
for you administer promises to your pillow each night
and swear oaths to the mirror each morning
like a child in detention
or an old soul in self-deception
each with good intention
but neither with gray-matter retention

Envy the broken heart
for reality has breakage and sorrow
but healing always follows
and the truth
when faced
can never be truly denied
and the mended bone is stronger than at first

                                  ~~~

Eviction is that final stance
at the cliff's edge
having come to the sea of eternity
with all the summoned bravery possible
holding the rubble of broken imaginings
and self-deceptions
wrapped in the ****** garb of new determination
after the battle
to be thrown into the deep
weighted with the stones of promise

Therefore
do the right thing

Cast your lies
into the draught

EVICT
and begin new-faced in the world
Self-examination gives us keys to many doors, but it does not guarantee that even one of those doors will be opened.
Seven Nielsen Apr 2021
Adrienne has flown to become the lovely moon
       and her ageless face is always toward me
                 watching
                      from
                          a    
                         heartless
                        canopy
                      of
                    my
               glistening
          tears
Seven Nielsen Mar 2021
the clover and the bee
held a requiem for my departing spirit
though I had not died
nor had I crossed that river of ghostly intersession
spoken of -- in hushed tones
between illness and that last soft breath
in darkened apricot-bathed chambers
of deepest reverence

lavender light shone in the pupil of Death's eye
glowing his ravenous invitation to me
cruelly -- at my weakest state
between the yellowed bedclothes of illness
and the bone-white shroud of sleeping clay

my stalwart spirit jumped to remembrance
of that hidden strength
in my secret cupboard
of once-forgotten thoughts
where sunny, buzzing meadows
are locked away on tiny hooks
-- for such a needy day
long nourished on blossomed perfume and
the sweet honey
of my innermost ponderings
and hopes

with every sinew of my last effort
I rallied with uncertain goad
and sitting straight
I whispered

NO

~~~
Death heard that word as a shout
and flew
on bat-winged terror
out
of
the round window
in my soul
leaving me whole
and alone
with the fragrance of the clover
and hearing only the breeze
and the friendly hum
of my physician
the
golden honeybee
This piece is dedicated, in heart and style, to Emily Dickinson.
Seven Nielsen Mar 2021
---------------------------------------------------
                                                   A new
                                                       time
                                                           has
                                                            come­
                                                             to the
                                                              wo­rld
                                                             ­ at large
                                                           ­  and
                                                           many
                                                         hearts
                                                    have
       ­                                       learned  
                                        to hear
                                   the voice
                                of the
                               sky
                                and
                                  of the
                                       land
                                           in those
                                                quiet
                                                      moments
  ­                                                         that come
                                                            ­    when the
                                                             ­         heavy
                                                  ­                       stone
                                                           ­                of
                                                                ­          trials
                                                ­                         is placed
                                                                ­     around
                                                                ­  the necks
                                                           ­    of each
                                                          of us.
                                                      ~~~
   ­                                               Is
                                              it
             ­                            truly
                               ­     the
                               voice
                            of
                        nature
                    alone
                  or a
                greater
                power-
                a presence
                 greater
                   than
                     the earth
                       or even
                           the universe?
                                Indeed
                ­                     it is
                                          both
               ­                                 greater
                                                        than this
                                                            ­   and yet
                                                             ­      smaller
                                                         ­            than
                                                            ­         the
                                                                ­    tiniest
                                                                ­   grain
                                                           ­      of
                                                              ­sand
                                                           and
                                                     it has
                                            the value
                                      of the
                               largest
                         diamond
                that the
           earth
        can
     offer.
    It
    is
      that
         kind
             and
                 gentle
                      voice
                              of
                                   God
                                          falling
           ­                                     freely
                     ­                                 down
                           ­                                 into
                           ­                                     our
                        ­                                           hearts.
                                                       ­            ~~~
                                                             ­      So
                                                              ­    look
                                                        ­        forward
                                                 ­            child
                                                         and
                                                     know
                                                    you
    ­                                                are
             ­                                         in the
                                                          hands
                                                        ­       of the
                                                             ­         creator
                                                         ­                     of all
                                                             ­                      things
                                                          ­                            and
                                 ­                                                       He
       ­                                                                 ­                  is
                                                             ­                              talking
                                                                ­                          directly
                              ­                                                            to
                                                                ­                        you.
Seven Nielsen Mar 2021
-----  I regard the crescent moon
   wrapped in velvet night --
It is like a discarded
fingernail
of God
suspended
   above
       in
            midnight  
                           acrylic                            clipping
                    ­                  after a nonchalant
Seven Nielsen Mar 2021
SOMETIMES VOICES
MAKE HOME HELL
EVERYTHING THEY SAY
THEY YELL

IT IS HARD
TO MAKE THEM QUIT
BUT YOU HAVE TO
DO YOUR BIT

LET THEM KNOW
THAT YOU'RE ON TOP
IF YOU WANT
TO MAKE THEM STOP

LET THEM KNOW
YOU'VE JOINED THE TEAM
WHEN YOU ANSWER
ALWAYS SCREAM
Next page