It's in the gloaming
in lingering twilight
that beside me the disquiet sidles
clouds idle, the violet of a bruised eyelid
and shape of fingers broken
and long healed
permanently wrong.
Inside me the violence is silent
but wants me pried open
wants my right hand knuckles swollen
wants an explosion
The release of a fight
so long denied I've forgotten
how my nose feels broken
It's ironic, my kindness.
The lie of my niceness.
How I hide behind politeness.
I'm like a vegan that ate meat as a child and loved it, devoured it, cracking open the bones to lap up the marrow, who greedily suckled the fatty sleeve on a new York strip, who now frequents dreams where steaks make blood puddles all over the plate. In the dreams the blood tastes of violence and light, when she breathes she can taste the death in the silence and in the blood on her tongue she tastes life.
Your tongue
and fingers
where maddening roses
would linger
for the ships
to enter the harbour
Since earthquake
from your kicking legs
cactus hesitates
to enter
Disquiet in waters
__________________
23 April 2022
a quiet afternoon
mind unspooling a tranquil languor
post prandial serenity lapping at sunny shores
easing my way into the garden
to dead-head roses
to prune the over eager
feeling well
in a loosely-strung way
my dog threads my legs
wanting to tip me off balance
but I am centered
the minor antics of the too energetic
only a buzzing distraction
now the hound
is barking and chasing a squirrel
kicking up flustered clusters of sparrows
doors slam
neighbors yell
there’s a ballyhoo
I turn to exit the scene
not even trying anymore
Flit and Spin
By Brett Somers
Mind sticking round and round.
Loneliness is that sticking sound.
No pillows of comfort
Nor footstep, firm ground.
Why does my loneliness stick?
My ears make me sick.
Meddlesome they play.
Which way, which way.
Decisively I sway.
Meadows sit and chirp.
Flit and mock.
How I sit and flit.
Flit and rock.
Flit and rock.
Mind sticking round and round
Rubbing stones.
This wonderous wanderlust.
Pondering thus.
A penchant to find
This time in mine.
A vast equator,
balanced incubator.
So as such I sit.
I flit a bit.
Wander and wonder.
I sit.
So weary of not finding it.
I search.
So desperately to find.
My divine –
my craft of soul.
My purposed whole.
So I sit and flit.
Unable to accept it.
My dearest friend,
I write to you.
How did this end?
Or tilted on an axis It spins.
Time It appends.
So alive then am I.
To flit and spin.
Flit and spin.
So I’ll find my axis.
Spin without end.
Mercury shots up
Now hand in hand the tremor
Your restless centre
--------------------------------
April 14, 2016
Like the night, the body,
still and cold, sleeps forever
to crickets chirping.
Being with child has caused much disquiet
The King and Queen will send her away
Oh! Romeo longs to comfort Juliet
Being with chld has caused much disquiet
This dilemia suits all the piets
While it fills Romeo and Juliet's dismay
Being with child has caused much disquiet
The King and Queen will send her away
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Contest: Juliet
Date: February 11, 2014
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