Time Shared

Once uncertain feels distance
Abysmal, lovelorn mist fraught
Lonely, lowly, sinking, hold me
Never let me go through temporoparietal injunctions
Mental storms fog, shoveled death beds
Where dropped flowers lay
White roses arise
Stemming from paralysis
Dirt strewn among the blushing clay
My heart strains when I miss your face
And dying cares to slow this pace…

Coiling off—farewell acceptance
Trailing back to DNA
Our bench boat warmer
Because what can’t be
Provisional learned lies, profit sized
Unamended changing ties
Fooled cause, your training wheels
Blister heals as pinwheels turn
Broken seals, clubbed line
Derivatives at brunch time
Reflecting our liquid mirrors
Iced to stone
Served with sprinkles
Scooped into cones
Leave it to Beaver

Scintillating, this mantle drifts
Aligning skull bones, in lit fused
Cosigning algorithmic, beta, fish
Over billowing horsey rides
Starfish grow limbs throughout the night
Beneath day, a cross of sand
Beyond smoldering spreads of “muster seed”
There’s us again—each grain a second
Forgetting me; not to mind
Whispering suspensions
As you turn down
Lost lanes
Plush pillow spreads
No carousel exile
Arcade revolving
Cranks carnival tunes
Crackling vitriolic, ultrasonic
Soundtracks stamp eternity
Doffing fedoras from origamic newspapers
Placebos in your Coke and wafers
Kindness never asked for favors
Running red lights
She howled in labor

As the morphine drips…
Sandy seconds ensconce frail wonder
Tick-drops, bleating thunder
What’s that again?
Wind chimes entangle
Shearing sheep
Cat tail run
Under rocking chair
Comp-bleat
Pinched ivy vines
Rusted watering cans
Dreg coffee grinds
Fresh sheets billow country laundry lines
Detergent to the blacklighting moon
Humid swelling summer nights
Her leg sways in sundress, to bluegrass
Mandolins, banjo picked
Lip-licked, swing pushed
Reality over Everest
I was there
Few lines measure
Tenderness until buried
Treasure, missed
Open chest
Blood and grist

Unobserved en masse
Before holding back, your hair
Only time hearing swears
Supplicant before porcelain
Cold compress to forehead
Throw rugs and beach blankets
Combating hypothermia
False alarms, miscarriage
Like our sea this afterbirth
Brine stew, circuit breaks
Welding sparks
Riding bikes
Dream built
For two that is
Really one—what a deal!
Once knowing love
Recounting us
Experience proves
Unquestioned trust

Carry on this being
Your certain return
Recalls warm new eyes
An apocalypse of pupils
Blinking bulbs of feeling was
When our children first called me
Daddy, it was their mother’s garden
Were Lilith tended floral bloom
Aching through time
Without possession
We are nothing
Except for another’s memory
Reality being what disintegrates
Crumbling into liver splotches
Broken time pieces
Tears watering hospital lots
Cracked windows
Unwound watches
Among the oil stained stalls
Past vacation spots
Means to end
Holding hands
Beauty, I could
Feel you
Hoping not to
Pass alone
Or go
Home, emotions swell
Of principled uncertainty
Vibrations, atomic energy
Coded bones, human genome
Stemming from cells
Imprisoned wake
This naked room
Accredited mistakes
Leading to continue…

Fumbling amid the apathy
Blinded by universal surrender, fate
Overlook, pathology
Born back into dreams of oblivion
Among the hints that banish afterlife
Finding each other
Lost from age
Yet closer through time shared
Existing until the end of our days

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Would you like to hear me read my poem?

*The above photograph is courtesy of UK photographer & friend Fee Easton. Fee returns to One Stop Poetry for a second time. Her photos comprise today’s One Shoot Sunday Picture Prompt challenge.

Fee also lent me the photo prompts for my triolet called A Golden Scheme, Dying Requests, and a recent poem called In Love Again.

On This Easter Day

Do you remember me, Grandma?
These lilies are for you
Picked them at your favorite park
The one near Arthur Kill

Imagine she misses Grandpa
Night lights in vacant eyes
Drawn to sudden song from birds
Past war abducted mind

Do you remember me, Grandma?
When I was Little D?
Within your yard I’d cross home plate
Pretend to be a Yankee

And will you remember me, Grandma?
On this Easter Day
Slave labor tortured
We’re out of time
I watch you wheel away

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Would you care to hear me read this poem?

*The above poem is my response the One Stop Poetry Picture Prompt Challenge. The above photo is by a talented and kindhearted Canadian photographer, Mr. Greg Laychak! Check out his interview today over at OSP.

Your Lame Balloon

Sphere filled with tears
Dead weight upon the ground
Gravity finally found an anchor
Lemon has touched down

As I deflate
You levitate
Letting go
Hot air
Escapes…

So
My life won’t fly
Away with you!
Don’t want to stay
Your lame balloon

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Would you like to hear me read this poem?

*The above poem is my response to the One Stop Poetry Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. The prompt was shot by the amazingly talented photographer Lauren Randolph. She is the featured artist today on One Stop Poetry. Check out her interview with Chris G.