Like upturned earth on haunted eves for which the beasts replete do seeth toward crisp remoteness the zepher stone burgeons and clasps those boney hands and ushers toward us. Indeed, the fallow are now spent, they rent those waters for healthier hands, but pure and brilliant are not synonymous with a hot-to-trot village filled to the top.
A lonely, cold gecko unstuck itself, unsteady,
from the cliff-face, bedroom wall.
A certain, short leap onto my pillow, then to calmly
move up over my sleeping form to my open face,
and there to kiss my closed
eyelids with rasping lips and sticky tongue.
"Lickety Split !"
"Spittle & Slick !"
It clicked and twitched this little tune as it did its rough work
on my quiet eyes. A slow massage,
moving orbits in their boney optical universe,
rolling, rotating, revolving behind the blue-veined lids
of my galaxy.
You didn't spot the camouflage,
didn't see the gecko,
just thought I was dreaming
with my eyes open
Mother lowers her sullen face
against a volatile wind,
tasting the insolence
of a heavy laden gust
As she heaves quietly
from musings of unaswered dreams
grating her senses -- hope clinging--
through pits of lonely thoughts
delicately cleansing snarled faith
and disheveled pauses...
where hours impairs near death
as uncertain answers grow pale
...Waking her slow breaths flowing
from tears... Dad in a stupor :
I dreamed within her own dream
a fervent wish of life restored
that she hears my silent words
her boney figure collapsing --
through the bleakest of bleak nights
numbed from pain ...from agony,
That under panels of glass,
...we clutch onto that wish for life
My dream blending with her plea...
and realize she has learned
to pray with me in the rain.
Stones left unturned for those that seek truth among the urns.
I care not to seek out answers requiring a life’s sacrifice of family and name.
Secrets revealed. Kingdoms rise, then disappear. Buried beneath silicon dunes of unrefined glass. Reflected back a whisper of their past.
The abyss now lay claim to their lands.
Endless cyclical tides, wash ashore smashed relics of a time long forgotten.
Blending perfectly with tumbling mollusks and stone.
But, all too soon. Quicker than we think. Our bodies reduced to boney fragments. Charging towards some beach.
Stones left unturned, are left better unlearned. History unfolds lessons, that are left better; alone
POTD~
In the misery of a paler grey nightfall
she blinks like citrine glazed along walls,
Ivy of Boston flaunts her shimmer without guilt
as palette of amber claims her lustrous glides
slithering with her bohemian lift,
rosette flesh blushing in chilled breeze.
Social climber this paramour, whirling
among plants wanton wild ,
trickles of mist freckle palms of curled leaves-
stem for stem-- translating the language of time,
of how branches relish herbage flow
as my wet hands paddle my dusky breaths
through mid-evening's freeze.
How her alchemy draws gasping sighs
more red than red could ever tease,
and that gypsy's heat...leaving mortals
in awe-...that her fluid pose seems to jut out
from a glass frame to rush forth with all
her womanly senses gushing, snaking,
writhing in the middle of ghastly, boney winter
meant to return on the edge of wild abandon,
enticing men with her faceted charm
never ever the same each time.
I am the matriarch the grandma said to the lot
Her opinion unvaluable, often ignored, not sought
No one heard this, she had become invisible to them
Everyone looked to her oldest lay-about son Jim
After you reach seventy, you are senile I guess she told Tony
He was her attentive grandson, slim, quiet, and tall boney.
Those twits I sired are forgetting one teeny tiny thing…
If they expect money, remember in this family, I am still king.
I Do
"I, boney, take thee, Mr Bones into my hearts darkness, to be my wedded souls husband through the shadows of light, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part until the end of time and thereto I pledge thee my faith."
"I, Mr Boney, take thee, Miss Boney into my hearts darkness, to be my wedded souls husband through the shadows of light , to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part until the end of time and thereto I pledge thee my faith."
I reach for my phone.
All I get is the tone.
I have found the first bone, out here.
I feel something, but not fear.
As if I’m an explorer.
While taking this detour.
Fog is settling.
In the sand, I see a gold ring.
Instead of grabbing it quick-
I poke it with a stick.
A finger was hiding in the sand.
I should have known not to touch this gold band.
The rest of the skeleton starts to shake.
I want to hide from this earthquake.
But there is nothing but a dead tree.
On this beach that is silent, without even a buzzing bee.
That fog that I had just feared-
Is lifting to reveal something scary and weird.
On this beach, the water is dirty.
My legs carry me there, although they are not sturdy.
I might float out to sea.
Or I might turn into a log from a tree.
I think I see where the bones come from.
Covered in beach scum.
Maybe I am next to become,
A boney finger and thumb.
I send a prayer for the next person to appear.
On this beach, it is sandy with fear.
Maybe they will find me?
Or maybe I am part of the sea.
I am wearing a necklace that is gold.
As I become a part of this beach, untold.
October creeps amid the shadows
Lengthening
The shortness of the day
Dancing amid the pumpkins
Chortling in its chill
Adding boney fingers to the trees
Reaching into our fears
Tickling with terror
The mystery of a gleeful night
As demons dance with ballerinas
Midget masterminds plot
Against larger super heroes
Trembling
As the door opens
A hand reaches out
A shriek, a panic of footsteps
A hollow laughter trailing
October
She scares ‘em every year
But gives really great treats
!51+alabaster
Bender Biscuit
Jab_rightcross
Gut Wrench-
Fleeing the hold.
ah-ooh
ah-ooh
chopin
reversed
big chopin
told me
there it is!
referre contact
stay out of the action
there the bell
the outside ref made the call!
we wanna see the other camera angle
the
Big Kualwhonah
looks to be
our winna!
Aint to many
satisfied fans here
according to these boo's
let go to the ringannoucer
for the decision
" i wish That Gal
from Kentuckey was her"
hold my saddle
trim my toenails
ye Hah! a snapping whip!
oh hardy, the soup
thick and meaty!
Dip my bread in the bowl!
Skim off the grease< I'm hungry"
"Boney better get to the table first"
"Aint no tip
cause it steaks in here !"
I knew you well many years ago
So full of passion
A cathedral where multitudes
Of lusting souls gathered
I watched intently at the images
You allowed me to see
Such a majestic creature
Towering high into the darkened sky
You gathered the light from a million stars
To power my imagination
A haven for teenage love
Your warm summer breezes caressed my heart
You showed me laughter, joy, love and sadness
I was your legacy, and I worshipped you
Time faded my memories
Progress devoured your simplicity
I lost youthful desires, hopes, and dreams
Replaced them with responsibilities, anxiety and conformity
I left you to die alone
Discarded like an animal’s carcass on the side of the road
Rotting in the rain and sun
Slabs of your silver skin decayed
Fallen to the ground to reveal the bones beneath
Tree limbs from the encroaching woods
Stick their boney fingers through the gouges
Like demons trying to pull free
From their eternal darkness
Nature is reclaiming you…
There is no one left to care
Behind the slightly misted pane, I sit
alone: outside a bared and boney limb
of sycamore is splayed with branches split
their flimsy leaves like floppy goldfish swim.
As autumn's copper shards then slowly leach
magenta tones, the fawn or paley blotched
remnants are tossed when passing lorries screach.
The seething swirl of leaves is slowly watched:
each fingered form in sprawled and spiky pose
regains a shape in fury's frenzied flight.
Each leaf like hands with purple veins expose
a spider web like twisting ammonite.
There was an eerie feeling that represented a full moon.
Is it time? The skeleton asked his bunkmates, or is it too soon?
Sure, one replied. Let’s show them that dead is not dead.
They climbed out of their sleeping quarters, their earthy black bed.
October for sure, but is it Halloween? One of the skeletons asked.
The old wise one nodded, but he did not reply. Deep in his flask.
What are you drinking? One of the other boney ones queried.
He shook his fist at him, full of temper. A tiny vole scurried.
Halloween moon, a ghoul who had stopped by quietly said.
He was standing next to Dracula’s son, Draco B. Ted.
Let’s give the humans some howling, scare them into a mood.
Okay, agreed the wise one, but then can we get some food?
One old man slouched down with his worn bent-brimmed hat
Wrinkled face covered, asleep in reverie
Comfortable in his enclosed habitat
Across his boney chest, hands so leathery
Body now bone, shriveled, which once stored-up fat
In his daydreams and REM dreams a treasury
Memories of those youthful accomplishments
Carry him on to future's astonishments
Date: 9/23/2022
Contest: Ottava Rima
Sponsor: L. Milton Hankins
Checked with syllablecounter.net
Checked with Grammar Checker on soup
You say your hope has depleted
Delusions you can no longer bare
But if you slip
Death could come find you
He could find you completely unaware
Don't pray to pale gray horseman
Don't pray for your life to end
For Death sits on his skeleton horse
Who rides in the scarce winds
He waits in the darkest shadows
He waits with decorum and a grin
Please don't pray for the pale horseman
Though your delusions you cannot bare
The fire that once raged inside you
Is now glowing red Ambers instead
Ashes floating and scattered
Of the life you once had
Now praying for Death to take you
To the realm that's hidden from man
Death travels through all dimensions
On the back of his boney friend
Draped in the cloak of destiny
A reaper's staff in one of his hands
His touch is not like the touch of midas
His touch pulls your soul out, from within
So be careful of what you pray for
A wish that can be granted by Death
Midas turn all to gold
Your soul is gold to him
R.K.H
10/16/2021
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