Saturday, July 9, 2016

Housefire



Housefire



I can't claim to know who designed
the remodeling of your mind, 
put the hauntings in the hall, or cobwebbed
the cubbyhole where the guilt bath's a-slosh
with soggy contrition, who made sure
each locked room was robbed; 

there's no comforting logic
leaking from a night-light's glow
after the red curse. 

No I know nothing 
but what you show to the street
or the mob in the alley by the hanging tree:
the work you left out from the architect's sketch,
hate's arsonist hand, the colors gone mad
in flames through the roof,

and after the fire:
larkspur in the ash where light falls oblique
on dead bricks and char, on skeletal feet.




~July 2016









posted for    real toads


(18 lines plumbing the depths of a shallow metaphor)











Fire Dance, 1891, by Paul Gauguin, public domain, manipulated
Internet cartoon, author unknown.







Thursday, July 7, 2016

Glow


Glow





Ruby glow of a living heart,
light bleeding oceans in the dark,
me hellfire low and hot as spark,
proud of Cain's jagged mark
for all the murder left behind--

never you but just the glow
how I wished that it was mine--

how I tried to call it close
from the place where it was lost.
How you loved to make me scream.
I told no one ever then;
people hate to hear your dreams.

Such things all pass to cold
and in the dark I see no glow
around the pixelled ending fuzz.
There's no crying need to chase 
for the thing that lays me waste,  for
filaments of  was, for rubies in the maze.

No, it's the pushing, tedious circuit
nagging, whining me to work it
that's relentlessly replaced it;
and my pleasure is to shirk it.
My secret's not to face it,

to flinch, to hide in smoke,
faded sequins and repose
till it slips away undone
till someone else must take it up--


but so seldom shirking works,
and secret loves despited
go mostly unrequited.





~July 2016










 posted for     real toads














Images: A warmth, A lightness, A glow, and then, 1968 by Sam Gilliam
Fair use via wikiart.org
The Nap, 1877, by Gustave Caillebotte
Public domain via wikiart.org







Saturday, July 2, 2016

Empires' Sum



Empires' Sum





Chantilly's lace of words
adorned a million men
with war's black bands. After July

she got no letters from the front; even
the green calligraphy of trees was mute
foddering the feast of fire and gun;

just a telegram to say they both would know
how the moon delivers a thousand nights of snow.




~July 2016











posted for         real toads














Notes: per wikipedia: The Battle of the Somme ...was a battle of the First World War fought by the armies of the British and French empires against the German Empire. It took place between 1 July and 18 November 1916 ... It was the largest battle of the First World War on the Western Front; more than one million men were wounded or killed, making it one of the bloodiest battles in human history.


The French and British had committed themselves to an offensive on the Somme during Allied discussions at Chantilly, Oise, in December 1915







Images: public domain via wikimedia commons:
Somme, showing field kitchen [from an album of World War One-related photographs of William Okell Holden Dodds. Brigadier General of  the Canadian Expeditionary Force in 1914]
An abandoned German trench [in Delville Wood near Longueval, Somme, France during the Battle of the Somme, from the British Imperial War Museum collection, manipulated.]


Thursday, June 30, 2016

Wing Of A Moth






Wing of a Moth




Your kiss
hangs like a moth's wing
on the wet cheek of night,
a flight interrupted, a life
separated from its whole.

It knows
all the tyranny of gravity,
this caress you cloak in air;
the past is loudest when it whispers,
aching where it smiles.

Miles after dreams
I walk soar swim,
miasma'd in a sigh, stumbled
at a stile thrown across the
pasture-path 

where pink-nosed ruminants pull
and chew your weedy lies, sluice
them stomach to stomach
til they drop to show
the truth they always were.

Bright bell of the sun,
ghost of a moth's night shadow,
wild bloom and weed
flower, fly and ring;

between we two wings
let us have lift once again.



 ~June 2016










posted for    real toads








Moth  © Amelia Fletcher, via internet
Weeds and Flowers, by John Henry Twachtman public domain


Sunday, June 19, 2016

Dreamless



Dreamless




We don't discuss which one is blacker
the starstrewn night or sister death
balanced here on living's edge.
Death has no moving moon
no firefly's strobe,
still we say she
comes all this
way with
sleep.



~June 2016









posted for   real toads














Images: Untitled by Zdzisław Beksiński, fair use
Deadlight, © joyannjones