"summersaults" poems
Within a world of azure blue,
the mantas glide with angel wings,
and fly on winds of ocean waves,
inside their realm of mystery.
Like ancient beings from the deep,
they flash and shimmer in our light,
with other-worldly mammoth forms;
cephalic fins and flattened frames.
These gentle giants of the night,
draw fishes from the briny deep,
their vivid forms flash to and fro,
feed on the banquet of the sea.
They dance balletic in our lights;
exquisite, rings and summersaults,
with bubbles lit to guide their path,
they glide just past our mortal reach.
These stunning marvels of the deep,
are but a finite sampling,
of what our planet offers up,
far past our wild imaginings.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 5:51 PM UTC
A desiccated brown leaf remembering greener days,
summersaults stem over end into the exposed cold dirt softened somewhat in demeanor by the grass and radiant shafts
The geese and ducks squawk and honk in the distance
Congratulating each other for the day's richness
and the way the sun feels on their proud beaks
glinting off the water in its way
a shimmering band
A princely golden carpet forever unrolling and yet complete
The sun's spindle weaves gems of light into a gossamer web
laid glittering across the water
A vision for Moses
who saw the true path through the sea
Fireworks Forever exploding sunlight
Gifted to the eye on clear liquid canvas
The wind ripples the waves
wrinkles pushed along
foaming in the sand
Little Kisses
on the grainy cheek
Star Flashes Communicating ancient patterns
Secrets of Existence Coming in Morse code, Fibonacci Sequencing,
Sacred Geometry in Twinkling Motion
Individual explosions blinking on a natural switchboard
Telling the architectural answer
Manifesting the blueprint
to only every reason why
The Last Leaf sings in the Breeze, swinging
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 12:03 PM UTC
Dead spiders on the ceiling, just hangin’ around,
swinging on their high trapeze.
With every breeze from the window they take to the air,
doing summersaults with the rythym of the wind.
Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 8:57 PM UTC
I'd like to live within you, the objective world working in tandem with the human imagination, the intersectionality is humor, sparking lust and color and ****** violent and **** salty and stimulating.
you're excessive bounty of lies, that which when worked into a fabric create an obscure fact, manipulate the memory and all the sudden the image is juxtaposed with the perception, then they lay on top of one another, creating a illusion so powerful that fact flies out the window, to claim evidence is foolish, for the scenarios flip within themselves as actors change disguises, as acrobats practice their summersaults, as discs spin in the video game set
to wish for a reality so vast, that an open field connecting the ocean to the city is but a comparison grounded by gravity, whereas your portals know no bounds, you give the people a voice and yet the voice is anonymous, therefore the individual becomes collective, therefore the money blends as the ideas blend as kisses blend at a masquerade, fueled by the promise of donation and champagne
Terror, hate, giving way to curiosity
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 8:46 PM UTC
she was born to bend this way
her muscles sing through the air
wrapping physics round her finger
handspring, handspring, tuck,
plant
her equilibrium ponders life and its meaning
every twitch intentional
every smile framed
if life were more like summersaults
and less like crashing planes
if the truth were always inside your ears
and the applause came only when you landed safe
if, when you fell, there were always a dozen friends waiting
to lie to you about gravity
maybe she would tumble beyond the mat
into rumors of spiraling fates
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 10:18 PM UTC
I bought some chapstick.
You said to get the kind you use,
So it’ll remind me of you.
In the parking lot,
I unwrapped the tube and spread it on my lips,
Indulging in what felt like you.
The moisture repaired my cracked skin.
A fresh start for my xerosis.
Honey flavored!
_I didn’t think twice._
When you called me two days later,
My body froze with your news.
_I knew you’d dump me._
Not so sweet after all.
And now I have this ******* chapstick,
Honey flavored, mind you,
That brings me back to a place of a past time.
I use this chapstick everyday,
Hopeful that one day I’ll actually use it all.
What we had will be gone.
Two months have passed,
And I can’t seem to make a dent.
Will you always be around?
At least my lips are always moisturized.
As I moved on,
I watched the parts of you that lingered in me
Completely vanish.
I began to notice,
_The chapstick isn’t honey flavored._
It’s scented with hellos,
Flowering bushes,
Springtime summersaults,
And fresh cider.
Every spread of that chapstick tube I use,
A part of you peels away,
Like the dead skin that previously surrounded my lips.
But the more I stare at that golden, honey design on the chapstick,
The more I come to realize that it’s just chapstick.
Nothing else.
_No more,
No less._
Jan 25, 2021
Jan 25, 2021 at 7:06 PM UTC
I'm usually one to count my steps
To shy away & question
My skepticism keeps me safe I suppose
I rely on my intuition,
& my discretion
But then you come
You sweep me off of my feet
You look at me with these soft sweet eyes
And my heart skips beats
and it trips
and it summersaults
And i look into your pretty, pretty eyes and I fall each time I swear I do
So I put my guard down
I allow vulnerability to become me
I share with you things about me
Things I hesitate to share
And this vulnerability grows
It creates a nagging monster of fear that drowns me with negative thoughts
And I fight it but it wins
I'm left defeated, tired, and distraught
This gap grows between us
And I feel you so distant
as if you're a stranger, a bystander on the street
That travels past me just like the short breath of an instant
Who's rhythmic steps don't match my wandering feet
It breaks me into a million minuscule little glass pieces.
Because I feared that I would fall and break.
I'm just a girl with glass bones and paper skin.
You weren't there to catch me.
You aren't here to ease this ache.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
Trying and trying,
forever at fault;
my ******* brain
does summersaults.
And goes crazy.
I want out.
and you have no idea.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
I remember when I flew.
The freshly cut grass glued its self to my bare feet, the blades wanted to fly too.
I took off.
A powerful start, rocketed off the damp visage of Mother Earth.
She had great power, gravity, is what they called it.
They said more than kryptonite was needed to stop it.
Gravity, only defeated by breaking the laws of Newton.
I didn't want to break any laws (jail would not be fitting for this hero who needed to be back in time for lunch).
But I kept going, if birds can fly ( and knowing they have much smaller brains ) then I could figure out how too.
I kept going, until my toes kissed the leaves of the oak tree.
Each time I touched the tree time would freeze.
In that moment I watched the wisps of hair flow back and the shadows cross my face.
Soon I was over the trees, doing backflips and summersaults in the air.
I was floating on my back.
The sun warming my face.
The harmonic hum of far off lawnmowers singing in the distance.
I arched my back further and further ready for another backflip.
On my back looking up.
What happened?
I blinked.
A permanent scar on the hero's back.
Sit up.
WHAM
It hit me, the loss of flight, the loss of that reality
and the reintroduction of the other.
It was all gone Mother Nature won again.
A life long battle.
But I'll try to never forget,
I flew
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
My hands were sweaty and my stomach practiced summersaults
I wished for my body to fall into a black hole of space and time;
until this was all just a memory. I longed to be flooded with relief
I don't remember how we said hello, or if she asked how I was
Her lips were ruby red.
She once told me Sunday's were for band t-shirts and your boyfriend's sweats
I used to provide the latter
Now I don't focus on who does
She spoke a lot, I smoked a lot
She hasn't grown up much between our years of separation
Did I expect her to? Do I really mind that she hasn't?
She's still the same, she'll always be mine
In a parallel universe I'm waking up next to her
Butterflies bursting from my stomach as she pulls a Fleetwood Mac t-shirt over her head.
As I said goodbye all I was thinking was 'who the **** listens to Jethro Tull anymore?'
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC
You may be wanting from me
Something profound
Some great masterpiece
Something that demands awe
And expands your mind
Something so wonderful
That The Thinker
Will have something to
Ponder on forever
In his ageless, stoic, iron pose
Wondering of its great depth
And wisdom!
But to heck with that!
I want to write of fluff
And all that stuff
Something of bubblegum *****
And unicorn dreams
Something of kittens
Doing summersaults
Something of polka dots
On Dalmations
I don't want to solve
The worlds problems!
I don't want to be a
A nobel laureate!
I want to write of fluff
And all that stuff
Of honey dripping
Off the sugar trees
Of the moon
Made out of cheese
I'll solve the world's problems
Another time!
For now allow me
That fantasy!
Aug 6, 2010
Aug 6, 2010 at 11:03 PM UTC
It was dark and you were doing summersaults
As the church bells rang out in the park
And your dress was tangled under your feet
The circuitry of your emotional shadow was lurking in the backdrop
Like a less important family member in a customary photo
The dark was a haze covering us like coffins
With your hopes and aspirations buried in them like ground water
I hope you will remember someday this happened
And it will come back like a prodigal at his wits end
Embedded in your drawstrings
Like sound waves in a pitch bend
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 8:21 PM UTC
Remember, my fair weather friend
When all that mattered was coffee in the morning
I don’t laugh when you call it your drug of choice
Coffee in the morning is serious business
A staring contest that I always win
An hour of small talk then we get to the meat
You cry and I sigh
We drift to a place where hollow feelings reside
Docile thoughts evolve into ravenous beasts
Why, you ask?
Answers raise more questions
Never ending questions
The sun is reaching its zenith
We are descending
I want to step carefully down this hill
You choose to go down in summersaults.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 6:41 AM UTC
the joy of breaching
have you ever seen stingrays fly?
not just popping their heads up
taking a quick peek at sky
but completely clearing the ocean
even doing alley-oop-summersaults
vertical 360's in mid air
strength and gracefulness
their flight as fluid as paper airplanes
the wetness of salt watered skin
shimmering in sunlight
dark gray against cerulean
fin wings flapping in wavy curly movements
outwardly oscillating like sound waves
wagging tails like happy dogs
leaping out of their element
with confidence and exuberance
and bidding onlookers to do the same
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 4:48 AM UTC
But find no comfort
in its feathers and patchwork.
despite the wine and rich
food, breaking down into calories,
i feel cold, way deep inside,
and it’s the kind of cold
that can’t be fought
with Hollandaise or alcohol
or a pile of quilts. i wish i had
a joint. a big, fat, stinky j to slide
me into sleep. but no, all i
can do is lie here, brain
turning summersaults.
it’s nights
these when memories
stir, whipping themselves
into stiff peaks of pain. here
comes one now, materializing
like Daddy did that night.
the night he came to
me, crossed
the final line.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC