"pinwheeling" poems
(There are galaxies pinwheeling all around me and I can’t sleep.)
there is a malignance
festering within my bones.
night has hypnotized me numb.
it pulls Lake Michigan’s secrets in.
i stare at my cracked wrists.
there is mold in the crevices
of my mind.
i need stardust, to taste the burn of light.
the moon pulls blood from my heart,
shivers from my skin,
a sirens scream from my throat.
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
Risa's eyes looked out from almond shells
glinting in the morning sun
concealing a golden buttercup glow
wrapped round the ragged peaks of the Himalaya's
like an immaculate dust cover
embroidered with a million clean cut diamonds
revealing the majesty of light
pinwheeling over broken shadows
and shattered solitary star-bursts
peeling round mighty boulders flung by giants
breathing new life into ancient stones
sealing prophecies of dancing immortal angels
stealing the remnants of passing moonlight
as the coming day reaches out and cradles
the last vestige of piercing cold night.
This was the daily healing
the warmth upon her young face
the smile appearing that would melt the ice itself
the young girl from Darjeeling
embraced with gifts of seeing
her nubile and youthful grace
belies the hardship and the routine
of carrying spice to the market
she was not yet even thirteen
the Lapis gem of her mothers eye
the little queen of all she surveys
sashays down the cobbled street way
nestled in the lap of the gods
and the praise of summer days.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
Her arms flailing
pinwheeling through the air
in dramatic attempt at emphasis.
His arms across his body
to absorb the impact
from her words.
Her eyes wide
like something possessed,
as expressionists weep.
His eyes closed
to keep at bay
the wicked witch.
Welcome to the new tribal dance.
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 8:44 AM UTC
Decisions, decisions
Like a ticking clock
Decisions, decisions
When ever will it stop?
Pinwheeling, pinwheeling
From my ear to ear
Pinwheeling, pinwheeling
Which one to choose? Oh dear!
If I choose the one, I may lose myself.
If I choose the other, I may lose everyone.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 1:16 AM UTC
Snowflakes feather down from the sky in delicate ferocity, not knowing their imminent destination, but certainty hurling towards their death.
I wince as the mass slaughter of snowflakes is gruesomely displayed on my windshield.
Amongst the blustering winds each snowflake is traced and clustered with it's own design.
But the meticulous sculpting of these snowflakes serves no purpose as they all meld together creating the sugar kissed veil of whiteness.
I trust that if I were to be a pinwheeling snowflake that your peach caressed skin would preserve me for what I am if only for a brief moment to absorb my recherche crystal formation with appreciation.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
I never thought this tiny metal band would weigh so much
It might as well be a millstone tied around my neck
And it drags me down, down, down
I hope there's an ocean floor down there somewhere
They say you'll find everything you ever wanted when you finally touch bottom
But no one knows how far it is to the floor
(And some people seem to get there sooner than others)
My lungs burn, but it's not so bad, I guess
You get used to not having air after a while
Some people don't even know what a lungful feels like--
Aren't they the lucky ones!
Memories still linger of gasping breaths
Times when I fought this weight and swam to the surface
Oh the sweet feeling of oxygen in my lungs!
The light winking on the water, the lazy waves rolling along, the warm sun on my face!
And the tempting sight of those tiny figures high overhead
Those who have left the ocean altogether and taken to the skies
Soaring and pinwheeling through the air
Rising on updrafts just to fold their wings and plummet towards the water's surface
In dizzying displays of graceful acrobatics
Join us in the skies! they call
Leave the weight behind!
(It's only pulling you down anyway)
What you thought were fins are actually wings and you were meant to FLY!
How tempting their offer sounds!
How could anything that awaits on the ocean floor
Compare to the thrill of flight and the joy of these majestic beings?
All it would take is to let the weight go--
(Come to think of it, this thing isn't even tied to me--
I've been clutching it this whole time!)
Let the weight go, and grab on as one of these sky-dwellers
Dive-bombs the water's surface, hand outstretched
To ****** me up and carry me aloft
Where I will join in their graceful dance.
But of course, it's not that simple
Drop the weight, and it sinks to the bottom without you
They say anyone who takes to the skies, and then chooses to return to the sea
Can only get to the bottom one way:
Swimming.
Few make it all the way down--
Their lungs scream for air as they struggle for the ocean floor
And often, worn out, they float to the surface once more
Unable to make it without a weight to help them down
Banished to the skies by their own choices
Torn between the pull of the weight and the siren call of the sky,
I remain at the ocean's surface
Treading water
And getting tired.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 7:52 AM UTC