Upside Down

Writing in the dark today
Migraines make me think this dying
Jagged gravel scrapes through brain
Alone, afraid, yet keep on fighting

Black silhouettes of chosen loss
Not scripting lines believing crossed
When shadows formed by infected trees
Paradise flipped symmetrically
Hence, my chosen fallacy—
Walk through water mentally
And the irony: returning leaves
With art projecting endlessly

No mirage exists herein
Now glowing mists, forest glistening
Trying squirms from lifeless shows
Knocks—thud sounds within cranial bones
Under throes of melted snow
Whereto walking I don’t know
Pressure changed so long ago

Spring lost, beginning—this ache feels true
Again faunal stages pan
As returning voices echo through
Golden bows and Puck’s woodland
Fergus, Shallot, Arthur’s clan
Crowning floral thorns on bloom
Myths may flow through afternoons

So what’s found above…
God in sky?
Kamikaze doves?
Love proclaimed without a hug?
Unable to recall
The entirety
From my birth
Or last night’s dream
Illusions of duality
Flip side from lost gravity
Ripple blotted sanity
Shallow fathom
Stretching reach
Still entrance made
One born through breech

My best guess is that time will end
Finding when our sleep amends
A race to space evolved from beasts
While lucid yearning pines for peace
I’m upside down
Where clouds should be
Breakthrough prayers
To find relief

____________________
Care for a poetry reading?

*The above prompt for this poem (which is actually upside down here) was shot by the incredibly talented photographer, James Rainsford. He was just featured on One Shoot Sunday (which was our most popular One Shoot to date!) …Please check out this interview and surf the links to Mr. Rainsford’s work.

*The poem is my offering for Week 38 of One Shot Wednesday
Thank You

Good Luck ( #haiku )

Majestic spread wings
Perched upon The Renaissance
Leaving his good luck

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Would you like to hear me read this Haiku?

*The above haiku poem is my response to the One Stop Poetry Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. The prompt was shot by photographer & poet James Rainsford. He is the featured artist today on One Stop Poetry.

Dying Requests

Before I die
Light these Roman candles
Like a bartender pours 3 double-shots in a row
Across glass molds formed from ounces blown
Without break to flow phelgmatic
In jest congestion; the hypocritically kind—
Exiled into passive-aggression
Too young for hardened arteries
Too old repeats inside my mind 

Biochemical cured concrete
Spun within human drums
Arrhythmic beatings
Spread feelings harden
Dendritic shorts come to naught
Failed circuit switch
Mined powder, dementia
Whitewashing anguish
Extinguishing, we perish
Each cause ill fate
Go ahead and stare at me…
I will never blink
Being partly there

No smoking hot Medusa
Wilting willow hair for snakes
Think of me as Dostoyesky
Hearing appraisal howls
Trumpet blares, wailing wolf
Rejoicing from inner war
Before night quells peace
When missing sentences kill
Me, Anna Karenina
This solitude, an empty room
Torture acts
Beyond contemplation
Mourning life
Lost sight
Truth lies
Self taken

Arresting spirit, one-way vacation
Upon snowflake-pattern doily
A flower vase empty, missing blooms
Frost replaced spring afternoons
Table-sized at grandma’s
Fighting epileptic agony
“Verily, Verily, I say unto you,”
What is memory
When depression wills?
Light unto infinity
Judgments nobody asks until

Engravement upon his tombstone
Please
“Except a corn of wheat fall
Into the ground and die”
When hammers chiseling tragedy
Carved below an arc of slate
To make the place of rest, decay
For all our flesh
That is fate
We are the dirt
I am afraid

Cancer sticks
They too pass on
Dismissed, not lit
Tasting chemically bitter
Having lost rounds through half-life
Eclipsed sunshine; wax-sealed
Penny lain upon each eye
As the music leaves
This prop stands, waiting
For someone to finally don’t shoot me

________________
Want to take a Listen?

*This poem is my response to the One Stop Poetry Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. The prompt was shot by photographer Fee Easton, featured today on One Stop Poetry.