Gord

2022-11-24 12:02 am

She cried too late, she surmises,
Where the water hits the sky she relates,
Relating further as the distance gains,
Relationships were never her game.

Decisions in haste are still decisions made,
Whether the bars bend makes no difference,
You still lived in a cage.

She is indivisible from a man, 
She decides in a rage,
This divides her, divided in half, her life changes.
Her children are the product of mistakes.

She cried too late, she surmises.
Famine, she decides. 
Pestilence, plague, flames,
Venom from the viper's fang,
Which she places upon the lambs that wail.

Take me away, she whispers to nobody there.
Take me away, she formally dresses, playing,
Addressing her former self, she was taken away,
Far from the pain that she feels everyday

Lynn

2022-10-13 01:36 pm

It was cold & the sky was too red as the sunset came too early - my brain was spinning with those letters & numbers & they were falling out of my ears. I looked at the asphalt and I saw my past and future yawning out - both in the same direction on the one-way road but my ears were too cold to listen, to learn. It was too austere in the building & too frigid outside & too glacial in the car picking its way home through the ice and old snow. It was too much too few & not enough of anything at all. & it swarmed. Threes with wings and velocities out with compound eyes buzz & sting & leave me paralyzed, there on the curb.

Gord

2022-08-22 06:51 am

I can't fly, I buy a plane, afraid,
Is it I, or the world that changed?
Doing, but why? Moon in the sky,
The music has died away:
Civilized, civil eyes describe,
My cymbals, rides and chains.
Time changes, I stay behind, afraid,
I can't fly, I can't buy a plane,
Or move to a space in my mind,
Tiny place, stimuli, to hide my pain.
Like shrines to a saint, myself,
I can overprice, play faces like chess,
Trite, then replace with tech.
In my camp by the lake,
Water arrests the trees.
Wolf, that tames itself,
Realizes little of anyone else,
Sees no bigger dreams,
Eats the best, but what for me?

Lynn

2022-08-19 12:46 am

ceaseless, i wait here in my hall of stone.
my continuous, meditative, monotonous vigil only broken by the sound of a camera shutter or the scratch of charcoal over rough paper.
my silence never ends, since my marble knees do not know the hour when they will straighten and carry me away, nor my spine knows when to crack and unfurl my body tall, higher than the skylight under which i am displayed, nor my dainty dress knows when to settle itself more comfortably over my shoulders.
so here i remain, forever more statue than woman.

one evening, out of the blue twilight the night guard saunters in, bold and butch and self-assured
(her footfalls give her away)
without warning, she leans in close, shining her beam in my placid face, and i cannot blink away the yellow light
(and never would, just to glimpse once more upon her lovely face)
hastily she whispers in my ear, instantly transforming my marble to rose quartz
and slowly then, she kisses me, soft and earnest and fleeting
and suddenly i am more woman than statue.

Gord

2022-02-04 04:03 am

A cypher for poets and authors:
Simple science, titled novel,
A game, decoded by tyrants,
After speaking, what is laughter?
A bird sings to his father:
After flying, what is higher?
Looks to the sky for answers.

Gord

2021-12-15 11:23 am

What am I to be?
A hive of bees, I see.
Time, clouds,
Sky, crowns,
Right now tied down,
Time, dreams,
Lies, deceit,
An ice house drowns,
What am I to be?
Composer of songs,
A giver of feelings?

Melissa Davilio

2021-05-14 05:36 pm

sun
rising
in the sky
breathing to life
the stark silhouette of the horizon

Gord

2021-05-14 04:19 am

If one could fly away,
Where could you go,
Besides the sky to stay?

If one could bike,
Cycle into the skyline,
Left foot fine, 
Right foot aligned,
Thoughts fill my mind,
The blind can read it.

When you were fine,
and I took the time,
When you were mine,
I looked life away.
When you're five,
You say goodnight,
and you hope the same,
for your final days.

When you lie awake,
Were the choices you made right:
My private plane,
My rightful place?
My silent rage.
She says you're mine,
To another guy, 
Would I mind?
I mean, I made no complaint.

miherseed

2021-04-27 11:03 am

the santan dew crawls      out of the stalk
if you break it apart                    from the bush
suddenly it burns                           brighter than dust

small grand doors                            tiptoed to kiss their frames

held by hinges,                                        but try to reach north

alas, their fates                                         are back and forth

there’s a somnolence                            to homes that are not yours

holed with metaphors                             you never explored to tell

your throat is for similes                      or possibly something else

i wonder                                          if wells hear wishes
or if they are mere echoes       of aired fulfillment
perhaps that’s why              the well water 
only gets to             see the sky

even if i bury my fingers beneath the soil, i am no root. 
even when i draw lines on the sand, i make no shore.

Lynn

2021-01-13 05:29 pm

holding the box between two fingers so it does not fall
the hand is not pandora’s; she has been dead for centuries
inside the lid, an amateur’s attempt at a cumulonimbus
the sky behind them greener than the clouds before a tornado
the clouds themselves whiter than the dust after
what will become of the box?
will it house bangles and bracelets and small forgotten memories?
will the hinges rust and the sky become separated from the ground?
will it ever find its way home?

Mary Steffen

2020-08-20 06:44 pm

Sun
Rising high
To the sky's limit
Another world from beyond
A home of Utopia 
Searching tomorrow
A new world
Home

Lynn

2020-08-04 11:53 pm

it’s no longer july
not a cloud above the sky

august breeze rips through the car window to tear at my hair

the only choices i make are both feet on the gas and no hands on the wheel
this is the only way i truly feel healed

will these be my halcyon days?
anhedonia thickens brain fog into an impenetrable haze
even high beams won’t make a dent in this maize

true ambivalence comes at the cost of change
have any coins in your innermost pockets?

Autumn

2020-05-14 11:54 am

Show me that night underneath the sky
when you pulled me close
but i am nothing but smoke in your hands. You are
my ghost—or am I yours?—
and we float away up to the sun.
There’s a shadow around the corner
and it haunts me.
I flee into your arms—
into you—
and the fire between us
chases it away. I don’t want to leave
but you can’t stay
and I ask you, please.
I’ll let you go forever
if you just stay tonight, here with me
and whisper in my ear
that you’ll never leave

Kody

2020-02-19 09:42 am

Bin thinking all night
Which goes outside
Bin worried of bin left out
Too much trash inside my house

Do neighbors above jest?
When no one bin in flight
Do the angels laugh at our distress?
Despite a sky with all yards in sight

In desserts I have bin
Now I know which truck rolls in
Now my neighbors learn from me
My bin is full of trash and now
Peace

Gord

2018-11-01 06:54 pm

Reading of lives I enjoy deceit,
My letter bold, italic and neat:
"Please hear me, Greek, leek,
I sometimes write nonsense,
Lest hope you would hear it."

Leading my lines,
Foreseeing poetically,
Receiving a liar guilty.
He says:
"For stanzas today, teacher,
I stand like bread features,
My brother filet beside me."
For once he doesn't lie,
Looks for the sky, sees ceiling.
Nothing aground marks his feeling,

Seeing the concrete,
He remarks of life:
"To tryst so wildly, again,
Would Vivaldi paint so vividly?
Probably, and with champagne,
because his name has dignity."
So seeing his window,
He thinks of rain.

Gord

2018-10-21 08:56 am

Why write technical poetry?
Skylight he remarks, opens,
Beams of light Caepoeria,
Room a knight of California,
Adjoined, special upholstery,
Coins, for centuries.
My king coiled, 
Toiling thy rings,
By fools finding hands,
Bringing foil to my picnics.
Thinking spoilt,
Singing doyle,
Drunk stringing his violin,
To play brittle.
How would I do, Aemula?
Is my world to soon, exposed,
Or steeped for your future?
A mule for god,
How would I too, butcher,
Myself, user and administrator?
I'm you for Claude, Europe,
Sugar, or urban woodland.
Frogs bulwark their homeless,
I'm too for piles of durance,
Furthermore for living fulcrum,
Furthermore, for here it comes.
Words technical, sure, but speaking of,
Can I not just turn and bite my thumb?

Hazey

2018-08-14 03:50 am

The thing that hurts the most.
You calmed my storms.
You helped make sense of the chaos.
You plucked me from brokenness.
Helped me find strength.

I don't know what it was.
But just looking in your eyes.
Filled my soul with peace.
I miss it.
I miss the quiet.
The calm.
I miss us.

I'm starting to feel broken again.
Empty inside.
Trying my best.
Not to let anyone see.

But there are days.
Where control escapes me.
Do you think of me?
As often as I think of you?
Do you remember my name?
What it once meant to you?

I look back on that day. March 10th.
Where I lost you.
Where every image I had of you.
Just shattered.
You were no longer a refuge.
You became a source of pain.
You still are to this day.

I blame myself for it.
For my losing you.
It's been three months. 
Realizing it's true.
I don't cry as much. Though my heart still does ache.
Try as I might; I can't bring myself to hate;
You. The situation. Us.

I want to throw it under the proverbial bus.
I can't. Because the sky still reminds me of you. It was our destiny. Our sky. The world was going to be ours. 
Accept it. It's over now. These dreams just won't come true. I need to accept that what we are. Is through.

The Sophist

2018-07-10 03:13 am

If you were a butterfly,
          you would fly.
If you flew over the sky,
         you would shine.
Moons and stars can be your prize,
                but I've surmised.
I love you most when you can read my mind.
But yo,
It feels like mountains when we climb.
      A few short steps to springtime,
                               my guy.