rain beats in puddles
steady as an old clock’s chime
marking storm’s retreat
early lights soften the night
as people forgot sorrow
darkness abandoned
like a lover’s hand let go
lurks in empty rooms
dull chords swell behind closed doors
urging hearts back into light
lone piano chords
wander through silver curtains
slipping down stone streets—
notes weave with the rain’s soft breath
dissolving like whispered mist
Café tables glow
lamps mirrored in rain-slick glass
offering pardon—
voices rise like waves of song
as couples embrace in light
two currents once torn
flow together at day’s end
merging once again—
storm drifts into tender dusk
thunder fades to memory
shattered awnings heal
stretching wide toward the sunset
much stronger now
roots sunk deep in firmer ground
and canvas is made anew
frayed lines grip the cleat
holding mast against the gale
canvas leaps awake
love unfurls its sail once more
steered by winds that once broke it
storm once split the mast
yet the sails held fast
love remade the seams
rekindled our dreams
under the awning
after the storm passed
after the storm passed
when we saw each cleat
with slick surface they would meet
by no one were beat
Skinny skeleton shares a tweet
In the dead of night, oh, so sweet.
We look as it leaves, next to his feet.
It’s hollow, which is a real treat.
So that’s a tweet! Says Mr. Greet.
I think it’s sweet and cannot be beat.
Skinny skeleton gives a kick with his cleat.
And pulls a trick with a ghostly sheet.
Auburn swirls of wind-laden leaves
coast to the cleat-torn orifices
of soggy, mud-clung grass.
That massed flapping pile time capsule
of summer sunsets is crushed with entering steps
like the rusting rain refrain.
A shorn sheep freezes from dusk until dawn,
following a downward descending path,
tattered and weather worn.
Stepping stone pieces beneath our feet
beat against earthen clay
like the rusting rain refrain.
Stammering to speak for apathy's tragedy,
words are heard like Braille to a layman,
as tin roof dripping resounds loudly
for failure to embrace its sloping surface.
September's sobs streak down beauty's cheeks
like the rusting rain refrain.
A farewell feast of forbidden wheat
bloats our bellies into swells, stirring grief.
Playtime is rushed to sleep with resistance,
as cinderblock thoughts toss and turn
until drifting becomes corroding numbness
like the rusting rain refrain.
You found me laying on the ground;
It seemed my life had come unwound.
You helped me rise upon my feet;
Told me, never accept defeat.
To me your knowledge seemed profound;
As if you too, once hit the ground.
You told me of your dazzling feat;
Once more my heart began to beat.
Was such an unfamiliar sound;
I felt my soul had just been crowned.
You told me that you felt complete;
Oblivious of my deceit.
Should have left me where I was found;
Your wings are now forever bound.
Your love for me acts as the cleat;
My heart is truly indiscreet.
I seen in you what was unsound;
Now lost within I watch you drown'd.
Uniform
She was sitting on a cleat crying, beside her a suitcase and
a vanity bag of leather. She was waiting for her husband
but the storm at sea he was delayed, the wind was strong even
here and her auburn hair attracted my libido
I took her to a nearby hotel trying to throw my weight
around with my uniform that three stripes on the arm, alas
they were made of silver which meant I was a catering officer
and the staff at the hotel called me a steward.
It was only when I hinted having been a helicopter pilot
during the Vietnam War, they showed some respect; mind
isn`t that disaster a long time ago, I actually was there trying
to save people who had worked for the enemy.
When the ship eventually docked, I went onboard told
the chief engineer where she was. I reflected on the fact that
due to the delay I had had her before him.
He was married to a tart bedding a man with silver stripes
unnatural is a pause of heart,
streams crown'd slow with rusted leaves,
time's slow slide in autumn's light,
must move, always, on to the right,
the tillage of the mortal grasp,
sweat and salted leather both,
of blistered skin on graven plow,
left crumbled shocks of past and now,
grasp the simple and be wise,
ships soon founder, days will pass,
proud men smirk with worldly brides,
while dreadnoughts rust in firth and tides,
on wrinkled brow cold wind blows bone,
dry rattled under parchment skin,
collect the dew, release the sun,
a child's face shines now for more than one,
warmed by friction years in love's cruel reign,
the fleshy cleat held blood coil rope,
storm anchored both the quick and dead,
can generations clot the minutes bled?
but love, ah! again with love,
shivered cool in morning's light,
in small hands fragile forever waits,
cozened the morrow from clever fates.
Life's a gamble, you gon' take that chance?
Damn right, I'm 'bout cash, you know what fills my pants
That charge carry life, you gon' stay on ya' grind?
Hell yeah, you already know, money's on my mind
What if the police watching, you gon' stand on that corna'?
Hell nah, I'll be ducked-off, I ain't a slow learner
I'm a math wiz', I can solve a problem
You just point 'em out and I got 'em
When it comes to beef, I'm like a butcher
Chop you in pieces, that's what you call torture
Like photon; electron, I'm far from positive
Lay traps for my enemies and get creative
Talk is cheap, you could check my rap sheet
I'm all over the turf, like a football player's cleat
I got more birds than a pet store
Move around, more than a Rapper on tour
Sell a lot of things, major distribution
I run more blocks than a Correctional institution
Not a body builder, but I move a lot of weight
Been doing this for years, these haters' kinda' late
Feds come, like a bird in winter, time to migrate
Fresh in another State, I can start with a clean slate
To be like a father
One has to inherit the Fatherhood of GOD
A father that siteth on the management board
At game time he made all arrangements and calls
Supplied our uniforms, water and balls
If you had no Soccer shoes (cleat)
He made sure you had one complete
Half time whistle blown tense moment
Energy boosting we had Nutrament
Indeed, back then we were like pros
We had no star players (Ronaldos)
Nor a special one (Jose Mourinos)
Just our Manager/Father
Whom we called 'Kiddos'
©Copyright January 13, 2012 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved
Looking aloft
Envisioned dream
Dawn at Sea
Tides crash abeam
Seas mystery
Attempts to bend
Ready bow
Sails to mend
Backstay about
Apparent wind
A close reach
Clew torn within
Navigated course
Needed cleat
No buoy insight
Captain feeling beat
One sits astern
Another alee
Corrupted chain plate
Desires to flee
Thoughts come about
Center of effort tried
Eye of the wind
Heel another tide
Weather the storm
Splice, I say
Tell-tales in line
Not falling off today
A painter, grommet
Ship shape, spreaders sway
Searching, missing hanks
Love of the seas headway
Staysail