"parches" poems
my days are alight
and nights burn
in a quiet fire
love's incandescent longing
parches me dry
and yet
in that constant flame
I find you
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 2:44 PM UTC
Your white velvet soothes
When the magnolias bloom
Heat parches our lips
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 7:23 PM UTC
Sun burns eternal
Wonders of the inner-most layered explosions
Gasses and core
Shine brightly without corners
Energy always blazing towards
O, shimmering, single, gratuitous one
Morning moisture is vaporized
Living things stir and wake
Shaken free of cold joints and harsh pillows
Crow Welcome to the Provider
Rising warmth opens green but too much
Parches and crackles and ignites
Fifteen minutes a day on bare arms
Vitamin D created
Heads lift like shoots from quiet, cool brown
Green and new, sweat lining
Old faces like vintage purses containing quiet wisdom
Don't forget the sunscreen.
May 31, 2011
May 31, 2011 at 11:25 PM UTC
“You’re eating, again?”
The question stings like a honeybee’s kiss
I smile dryly as I nibble at my plate
You have moved on now
But I don't hear you
“You’re eating, again?”
These words intricately constructs heavy vines
encircling the delicate hand that once held my fork
I smile harder as three words prickles my body
Fabricating a paralyzing smog in my skull
The food becomes unpalatable and my mouth parches
“You’re eating, again?”
I rise and then I watch
"You’re eating, again?”
get flushed in a porcelain bowl
And I feel the familiar swell behind my eyes
And I weep
I weep because I ate again
Dec 21, 2017
Dec 21, 2017 at 11:07 AM UTC
It is the eyes
*It
Is
The
Eyes
That
Travels
Into
Seas
Of
Endlessness
Into
Waves
Of
Consciousness
It
Is
The
Eyes
It
Is
The
Eyes
That
Sparks
On
Midnight's
Blur
That
Calls
Forth
Light
Into*
________________________ **the
DARK**
*It
Is
The
Eyes
It
Is
The
Eyes
That
Reaches
For
Tomorrow's
Dreams
That
Searches
Through
Depths
Of
Souls
That
Pierces
The
Dustiest
Parches
Of
Hearts
It is the eyes
That
Quenches
The
Yearning
Of
The
Minds
It
Is
The
Eyes*
**It
Is
The
Eyes**
Evna-Luna©©©©©©©©©©
IT IS THE EYES
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 3:48 PM UTC
Campos de mi provincia en el estío,
infinitos, monótonos, iguales,
carretadas de pastos naturales
más el alambre tenso de algún río.
Un monte a la distancia azul sombrío,
parches esmeraldinos de maizales,
molinos, parvas, silos, animales,
y luego el sol de la bandera y mío.
Hoy al cruzaros rumbo al mar de nuevo,
mi antiguo voto férvido renuevo:
¡estallad en mil granjas divididos!
Y guardadme el rincón más miserable
en que un sonoro álamo me hable
junto a los claros hijos ya crecidos.
790
We don’t belong here
Among people who see
Only red in the kaleidoscope.
People who will burn down the candy store
To keep a foreigner’s kid
From maybe getting a lollypop.
People whose good will
Ends at the top of
A concealed leather holster.
We don’t belong here
In a place where the scenery
Goes off limits 97 days a year.
A place where the wind
Is often angrier than me
And covers things with talcum powder dust.
A place where no humidity
Parches eyes and nose and mouth
And water gives you kidney stones.
A place where those with shrunken purses
Huddle down in freon igloos
Longing for the place they left.
We don’t belong here
The shadows of our spirits do not match
We sing our songs in foreign keys.
We hide the face of who we are
And wear the mask of fitting in
No, we really don’t belong here
But here we stay because
There is no other place to go.
ljm
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 6:56 AM UTC
The dust of time rains down in swirls
Above the roiling sand it whirls
Riding the wave of a desert breeze
It rises up high just to seize the sky
The dust of time, it drifts and it dreams
Clouding the vision of all that would see
It parches the throat and boggles the mind
Breaks down the walls that we cannot climb
The dust of time is all in our minds
The measure of moments perhaps not defined
The meaning is lost at the edge of the stage as
The winds of change work to sweep it away
The dust of time is all that we have
It marks each moment as we strive to get past
It rains down on us in a glorious hue
Clings to us here in all that we do
The dust of time is all that we are
Just tiny grains to set us apart
We’re here for an instant and gone in a day
The winds of our season will blow us away
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 11:50 PM UTC
showered in her love
a natural waterfall
who's mist I collect
parches thirsty cliff side roots
reaching her constant currents
Dec 28, 2019
Dec 28, 2019 at 7:50 PM UTC