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Posts tagged ‘backdated poem’

carpenter

when the sun breathes out
lighting up crimson embers
a tangerine thread stretched
across the horizon, burning
the mountains, fields, and grass –
all turn black with their backs
against the fire,
our shadows wilt, melted into
a fine ink, bodies taking root,
sinking deep into the earth,
the sun, carving our silhouettes
from the soot and ash of the
approaching night

___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 10th, 2017

out to get us

shadows drum their fingertips
across the tabletops of dreams
restlessly waiting, lined up by lights –
we roll over sleepily – then the
shadows put on their masks.
in the moment between thunder
and slumber, we believed the shadows to be
something other than
dark things curling their
fingers around lamp stands,
something out to get you and me
___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 9th, 2017

tier cake

i couldn’t sleep because
something ugly wanted
to shine, wanted to
feel beautiful, be noticed –
for me to call it “mine”
in time, i began to relax
as that something stacked
her fears and desires higher
layering them on like a tier cake,
and when i awake i take one
last bite, and tell myself
and that something
we’ll be alright
___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 8th, 2017

Hillside Drive

a sadness grows
where nothing blooms
i think of you sitting
in that room – i think
of myself, racing down
those streets, arriving at
Hillside Drive, where my
childhood shadows reside
and swim in the dimming
sunlight of those days – do they sleep? or
do they still trespass across
your mind? or have they
slipped away, allowing
for other things to stay and
spook you with grief over time,
i remember kicking up gravel and leaves
waiting for the bus on those
mornings you must have sat through
quietly, reading a romance novel
while he drank sweetened tea
___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 7th, 2017

gulls, and the mosaics of dreams

i broke pencils with too hard a grip
as i tried to write my thoughts as if
i were chiseling them into my skull
it’s no wonder i often feel the pull
of a headache coming on, i slip
over the words, feeling a bit foolish
i imagine myself at times like a gull
making up for gloomy days
by stripping dull coastlines of
shiny litter – trying to make
the most of imperfections,
finding value in the gold
that doesn’t always glitter –
before it stashes itself away into
waves walking with the sun
before it sets and burns away
the things i forgot to write in my head
which will fade into a strange
mosaic dream, outlined
in ocean blue and sunset red
___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 6th, 2017

below

the sun gave a cranky, ugly
resounding
NO, flopping over on her side
letting the rain clouds grow
until they had no other place to go
except down and on to the frowns
of people slowing their walks
and carrying their umbrellas
held high as their emotions dipped low
everyone feels the sun’s sadness,
her light hollow and bleached out against
the sidewalks below our feet

___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 5th, 2017

where my words are sometimes found

sometimes i find them
falling in the rain
other times i see them perching on
clouds’ silver linings
they rarely run red lights but
enjoy the occasional reckless flights
high above canyons or deep into
wishing wells at night, sometimes i find them
twirling their fingers, adding a little
enchantment to magic spells –
i often catch them in the corners
of my eyes, shining on the backs
of rivers or flowers crowded
along sidewalks, sometimes i
even find them during the quiet,
between the moments
you choose to pause or choose
to talk; occasionally
i chisel them
from rocks and stones –
often, and quite emotionally
i’ll extract them
from my heart and bones,
sometimes i even find them
stamped in a cat’s paw prints
in pollen on car hoods in the spring
or even in the last breath of a snake
curled up in a hawk’s claws
or a child’s cry from an unfortunate
bee sting –
mostly, i find
them out in the sun where they tend
to catch my heart on fire – other times
i feel them in the moonlight
where they run a little too cold,
pressing blue frostbitten hands
hard against my soul
and sometimes i find them softening,
warm for the world, in the eyes of
fawns and foals

___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 4th, 2017