Showing posts with label blue ice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blue ice. Show all posts

Sunday, March 13, 2022

Flowers Of The Moon

 
 


 
Flowers Of The Moon
 
 
 
The moon rocked in its cradle
hunched down on its paws
reluctant to rise
 
while the sharpened stars stared
and ice fell like blades
on the night she was born.
 
She wanted flowers,
hands to hold, a round-
bellied pony with liquid eyes
 
but they gave her knives, so
she learned to juggle.
There was plenty of work.
 
 "Stand back." she said,
"I could put out your eye easy
as breathing. I could and I might." 

The moon crept up to
the crossroads.The stars fell asleep.
The knives rose and spun
 
whirled and glittered like
blue ice flying
til one by one they fell
 
from her scarred hands.
"I've no time for this trade," she said,
"where every mistake bleeds,
 
where every hit frightens.
The moon needs a gardener
for roses to grow."
 



March 2022





 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 posted for
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Images; Sunset at the North Pole, author unknown,     Fair Use
Girl Juggling Knives, unknown source via Sunday Muse,   Fair Use

Saturday, February 15, 2020

Snapped




Snapped


Staring blinkless
through the image-hole,
what looks back at you now?

Before you left me
for the yielder's dark,
you braided vapor
into handcuffs, strung
me shackles in beaded
star-strings blue as lake ice

dripping symbols, medals,
seals and skulls, seven secrets
made from sickened pain
and spider's valor.
Your single eye
webbed the mayfly hours
from child's cotton wings to 
landing thud of
my woman's bleeding.

If I
could stick a pin
through the paper moment
numbed with poison,
the abdomen of
exactly when
you began to require
annotations for my
cloud to ground work,

I'd  know exactly
how you froze me
to my snapshot,
ciphered me down
to this subset of myself.
Will there be less of
these prickly pear tears
these gestures of negation
now

that we have no faces,
only hats floating light
while I wonder
if I can ever miss you 
without that forgiveness 
which will not come.

In your shutter's last squeak
I smile flattened: a mist rising up
from the wrong side of the lens.





February 2020



posted for
The Sunday Muse 

and
earthweal Open Link

















Image: Author unknown, Fair Use