a scattering of rice
a few awkward toasts
waves goodbye
tin cans trailing
just married sign
upside down
short drive to motel
six, no a/c
bedsprings creak
soon fail
glass shatters
third marriage
for both
Categories:
bedsprings, divorce, marriage, repetition, romance,
Form: Free verse
Bedsprings crochet bones together.
His back is sutured to gripes
stitched to gummy joints.
In the toilet, avoiding the mirror,
humming softly,
shunning conversation with himself -
the ceiling drips a sump of memories.
The park --- Frances revolves confused.
"I don't understand."
A phrase with self-winding words.
A slight miscalculation,
a turning away at the precise moment
she turned towards him;
an error of timing really.
Frances whirs on "I don't understand."
Later he understood she overdosed.
He imagines this lethal power
over her life to be his.
Time whittles cavities with calcifications.
Softly the spine of a storybook breaks -
where one stitch patches a sorrow
a spur prods and rips.
When he listens to the hollows
between the long vertebrae of his life,
he hears a theory crumbling away
under slowly grinding cogs.
Categories:
bedsprings, poetry,
Form: Free verse
When alone in a quiet space
still the distant slamming of doors,
or the rattle of castanets
confirm that the world is not shut out
but just moving from room to room,
soon it will burst through paper-thin walls,
skeletons will make love on tin roofs,
harpsichords will rattle amid
the bedsprings of sleep.
The need to be alone even when alone,
hides an even deeper want.
Corridors where the days tramp
echo with a ghostly clamor.
Busy junctions behind closed eyes
erupt where the dead and the living gather
to talk louder than thought.
To be the only listener at the water cooler
or in a crowded auditorium; that is the answer.
Alas when the hall empties,
when the last exit closes behind
the high pitched babble and laughter,
there is still a strident chorus line
of memories stomping echoing boards,
a whooping louder than any voice
anywhere.
Categories:
bedsprings, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Bedsprings crochet bones together.
His back is sutured to gripes
stitched to gummy joints.
In the toilet, avoiding the mirror,
humming softly,
shunning conversation with himself -
the ceiling drips a sump of memories.
The park --- Frances revolves confused.
"I don't understand."
A phrase with self-winding words.
A slight miscalculation,
a turning away at the precise moment
she turned towards him;
an error of timing really.
Frances whirs on "I don't understand."
Later he understood she overdosed.
He imagines this lethal power
over her life to be his.
Time whittles cavities with calcifications.
Softly the spine of a storybook breaks -
where one stitch patches a sorrow
a spur prods and rips.
When he listens to the hollows
between the long vertebrae of his life,
he hears a theory crumbling away
under slowly grinding cogs.
Categories:
bedsprings, poetry,
Form: Blank verse
New York City is where people who are
disappearing go. It is very quiet
here, silent. A man and woman
made love below me. I could hear
the bedsprings ringing and the
woman singing in sensual pain.
My thoughts sped up as they humped
faster. Everything is dead in my room
except me and my plants. If I keep
on identifying my feelings with the
feelings of things, I too will be dead.
They are talking and laughing now. His deep
voice vibrates the air. Her laugh
is like water.
Categories:
bedsprings, city, feelings, new york,
Form: Verse
I once knew this guy. Fred McBride
Whose wishes were sadly denied
He was wed in the spring
But before he could bring
the needs, of his wife, satisfied !
It's a shame that this groom and his bride
Purchased bedsprings, wrapped, coiled and tied
Big Fred jumping on
Bounced up and was gone !! ...
Through the ceiling, the roof, then outside !!
Poor Fred hit his head, and had died
Leaving gapes in the roof, long and wide
That bed was spring-loaded
The bride soon reloaded
her bed, ...where a roofer resides !!
___________________________
For Deb's Contest: Spring Forward
3/2/15
Categories:
bedsprings, funny, humor,
Form: Limerick
All the windows down.
Shades drawn.
Door locked.
Against the imitation mahogany, a little manila card:
"Check out time: 3 o'clock."
Click!
All dark now.
Hmmmmm.
The Wizard Deluxe 16" Oscillating Fan
makes a lot of noise.
Click.
It's too cool anyway.
Whew! Those ugly flowers on the rug!
I can almost smell them.
And the bedsprings creak.
What am I doing here...
the Big Guy...
the Smart Alec with All the Ideas...
the Joe Who Was Going Places...
the Most Likely to Succeed...
Huh! If they could only see me now.
Well, here goes nothing.
I guess I'd better, now...
if ever, now!
Categories:
bedsprings, angst, death, depression, introspection,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
Passion heats the room,
With flickering...midnight flames-
On crackling bedsprings.
______________________________________
Inspired by Celene Crescent’s Senryu Desires
Categories:
bedsprings, love
Form: Senryu