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Dec 2019 · 103
Winter
Ana Coman Dec 2019
A grey sky, heavy as lead, dulls my window
Listless I lie, propped up by a pillow.
A restless little bird chirps the world awake
Watching from my bed, I feel cold as a snake.

Death has darkened every ***
What was once alive now sticky with rot
On a mouldy stem, hangs a red rose
A patch of colour that time froze.

And all the bugs have crawled away
Sensing destruction's here to stay
Oh... how I wish that winter came
Its white veil...  to shroud the decay.

Death only ever shies away...
When crisp white flakes fall on the day
And all that's ravaged is now frozen
Suddenly  Autumn's curse is broken.
Dec 2019 · 103
Scars
Ana Coman Dec 2019
Where did it all go wrong?
You ask...
... and there I sit and wonder.
An absent mind, the spirit dry...
A hollow ghost - sat in a slumber.
And ... there between us, lay the lump
That crude matter of our love!...
Deluded, dysfunctional, ...as we were
You ask..
Where did it all go wrong?
That... love we shared
Oh! how...  it burned and glowed!
And every throbbing scar it left
You turned into a bead
Our love...a chain of wrinkled pearls
Now resting round my throat!
Dec 2019 · 96
The Soul in the Potato
Ana Coman Dec 2019
My shovel hits the dirt,
I turn the softened soil -
This is the place of birth
Of the potatoes I boil.

In neat, straight rows
Nestle the seeds -
As the potato grows,
The dark soil goodness yields.

The many souls that bless the land
Reach up through the potato
Distant echoes of a funeral band
Sore eyes turn back to Plato.

In search of you I comb the earth
In mud I sink my toe ...
And sense your spirit freed from dirt
Through golden folds of mashed potato.
Dec 2019 · 191
Bells ring for Joiana
Ana Coman Dec 2019
Joiana's getting married
She's carried down the aisle
The Preacher rough and stern
Smiles coyly at the wine.
The guests have lined the wall
The air heavy, scented with mothball
Hat in hand they stand
Trying to recall
With their suited smiles
and their crooked grins
The beauty of Joiana
Misted in sloe gin.
As the Preacher sings
They turn... face the groom
Resting on his cross
Near the upright broom
Forgotten there by Ross
When he last swept the room.
Resplendent all in white
Joiana lays in lace
her heart still, no flap no flutter
Her soul has left no trace..
She's waiting for her cue
To guide her through the light
Into the arms of angels
Where she'll float like a kite.
Dec 2019 · 87
Friends that mate
Ana Coman Dec 2019
I love to love...
I yearn to love, to be in love.
My heart, a faint flap of a mute dove.
I listen to you and wonder at your touch.
I follow you, wondering....wondering so much.
So smart .... only having said little.
Always smiling, so noncommittal.
I talk, staring at the void rolling around in your eyes.
The story of us, spun from too many goodbyes.
My thoughts on life, your thoughts on cars.
Our paths criss cross on the diffrent parts
Of a flat so small and yet too big...
I meet you at the fridge, munching like a pig.
We walk through
Speckles of dust that dance in flat rays...
I love you all the way to the bottom of the driveway.
You peck my cheek, caress the car, fly away.
The cat breaks the silence, yawnig at the moon.
I sit stunned, wondering why I love a buffoon.
We need each other, in order to be seen.
Welded together, some see you and some see me.
A union complete, a match made to beat.
Both bored and too lazy to cheat.
United in friendship, each for the other, a mate.
Not unseprable lovers, but friends that love to mate.
Sep 2019 · 83
Rain
Ana Coman Sep 2019
Rain
chills the summer air
easing the crust  from pain,
the cracks too painful to bear.

soil wet and moist
grass sprinting back to life,
all the bugs rejoice
On blades as firm as knives.

Many a cold and clear drop
Replaces clumps of dust
Nature swaps its ragged top
For colours more robust.

And like a maiden on a stroll
Fresh from a hot bath
mesmerises every soul
That walks down nature's path.
Sep 2019 · 181
The wayward drop
Ana Coman Sep 2019
Have you ever thought about the drop
That got lost from the rain...
Never to fulfill its purpose, as...
it lingered on a forehead ...
slipped and dropped into the duct
And amazed by the warmth
melted into a tear
And fertile it flowed down a cheek
Leaving a trace
For the sun to dry... so that fingers
Could brush away the tiny salt crystals
Sep 2019 · 117
Hells Bells
Ana Coman Sep 2019
I cursed, Heaven and Hell
For the lost ******, the silent bell
I tried so hard to create
That Eternal peace, that teases fate.
Trapped in my pain, heavy as lead
I struggle to lift my head.
And tired, I sit and moan
While watching others on their own
Smiling happy in their sleep
My cheeks burning as I weep.
Spending every hour, night and day
In that bed where my loves lay
Crushed by the silence of this grave
Of that bed I am now slave.
And as my sins I now renew
I sense the world has a grim view
Of a soul broken, into tiny pieces
Each reflected by the creases
And shed through many lonely tears
While others sat enjoying beers.
Bitterness turned my world small
I couldn't forgive them all
To watch them burn
Back to Hell I'd gladly return.
Deaf to the loudest of bells
Carelessly trampling on eggshells
I know it is my own fault
That I am empty and old!
I sat ignoring all the bells
While others loved their own selves.

— The End —