"eyesights" poems
There is something about it
The inexplicable curve in the diet
Swimming in pink grapefruit,
Sharing the stunted manifestation
Of a slice of clementine Gouda cheese
The way, the solace in a lone glass of wine
Chilled iced, purged crayfish
Flushed from the brittle salt basked seas
From the callused knuckle of stony fisherman
Casting out at the crackling array of dawn
With the waters brimming at the hulk
And the mast scraping it's white and red tusks
The fisherman who left at dawn
Leaving his beloved steeped in slumber...
Allowing her eyes flutter to the beam of pink salmon
And there is just something about it,
Pulsing from the faint flicker of overhanging bulbs
A writer stoops over a sliver of miracle
Purged from the raw etched in his vast chest
The very act of describing compassion & sin
With the ink soaked mechanism of his typewriter
The legacy of a young girl
Who wasn't meant to save the world
But to find it, the humanity whisked away,
Drowned perhaps by whiskey and alcohol
Eyesights deterred from the long lone walk
Pocketed with threats and head shakes
The writer's fingers fly,
And funny how there is something about it
How it doesn't end in full circle
That we lack the great capacity
To seize the flesh of truce
So distilled we sail,
So perturbed we write,
So empty we feast
Never quite knowing
That elemental presumption
Of something more
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 2:33 PM UTC
the end
drew me back to
the unknown
into grey matter
before anything turns
I ran away,
I took all of them
as if all memories are to throw
renewing the thoughts
deleting the past
saved on my camera roll -
your crystal clear candid shots
into sleepless metaphors
the nights you stole
with our brief barely breathing history
time seemed to align
where it flew
I was not sure how it went
the drinks, the laughs
those that came out our lungs
and the gust of sighs where i lost my mind
with our touching eyesights
we began
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 8:38 AM UTC