Stark trees on the hill line
intertwine with the sky
Their branches be parted
bent by the wind
Sourced from a height
Wet doesn't quit
No gold in sight
at ten degrees
Given what is seen
only green grey and white
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
She walked in quietly
leaving the door of my soul
As if she was
a gush of cold wind
blowing through the bleak
horizons of my heart
and often when she leaves
I feel my soul burning
with a love
(that is both cold and stark)
It was the day several years ago. Sunny as it is today.
It was you sitting at the desk,
outlining the halo deflected from the words.
Tranquilness fell next to your feet
had the sound of a tropical ocean when you stepped on it.
It was the day several years ago. Rainy as it was yesterday.
It was you dashing out of the awning,
pounding the haze to the beat of the laughters.
Drops spilled on the cup rim
had the color of a stayed-up night when you looked at it.
It was the hill flamed with red flowers. Blossoming as it will be tomorrow.
It was you lighting a cigarette,
standing in the pure white clouds.
Particles colliding with one other. Ruptures being exposed.
I stood in the shadow underneath the gorge,
watching time flowing by with sparkles floating on the breeze.
You were up there smiling at me,
unaware that it was even darker
when you spreading the petals on the stream.
A city of strange sights
Something sinister is hiding beyond the lights
Your comfortable ignorance blinds you from the war
I wonder if the fight is worth it anymore
The calm babble of a fountain near
Contrasts the cries for help barely reaching my ear
The place where our humanity is lost
And we leave one another to rot
I used to think myself a giving person
But I have since learned my lesson
I ask a man with a bourgeoisie air
For change to help pay my train fare
His face tightens when he looks at me
I spent it all on overpriced coffee,"
And for another night I'm stuck here
Lively and Jumping
A vibrance felt
in a Bright display
of Human Beauty
Its lights beckoning
One step forward;
The second life lived
in the small Room
Drag me closer
It is forever
I'm trying to convey unsure emotion
is a mother yelling over the sound of the dishwasher
hanging grapes that dry against the yolk-orange wall
the local boy with mud under his nails
and the girl that smells like new york city
loud sunlight upon the hush still river
brown rust eating up white paint
father's office suit in the back of his dusty Jeep
screeching tires that tear past red-light lines
blood red sprinkles on the roadside's white daisies
birthday cake swallowed in tears
don't let these worlds collide,
they say -
for it only brings chaos
suburban cacophony hurts your ears
with a truth ugly to the eyes
leaves an imprint
like a sharp pendant pressed to the chest
written sept 3 2018
Pained expression on your face
Grimacing as you return your gaze to meet mine
It physically hurts for you to talk to me
A stark reminder
Of what you’ve lost
Everything is open
Like a gaping wound
All the cards have been revealed
And you let the grief engulf you
Falling backwards into the crushing sea
Salty--for the tears that you have shed
falling into the sea of grief
A stark lesson.
(Beware not to give it all away. )
A stark lesson I now relate.
If you put all into life and fail to withdraw
Your happy philanthropic nature giving more.
Men will arrive and take n never show remorse
Your coffers soon exhausted standing empty
Stripped by those you helped when you had
Never throw away a poem draft. You may lose the computer but a paper draft you may find 11 years later.
To write for you...
I’d have to dive into an emotional well
and drown only to be revived
by the subtle tendrils of the words
you once swore.
Nuances of the song we used to sing - caressing my limbs, cradling my neck
Retracing their mark.
Reigniting the flickerless...
Steadfast flame that burned ever before.
As if hoisted by ethereal wings,
I’d be reborn with the ink...
This ink - black and stark.