Night stampedes wind-horses.
I edgily negotiate the sharp corners
of swerving shadows.
The hind hoof of a doe
slaps the reflection of my startled face,
the Chevy twitches, plows on -
headlights rake the earth.
From a rear-view mirror
I see myself prone on the asphalt,
terrified limbs still stamping
over a shell-shocked mind.
The deer chased its bones,
disappearing into the sight unseen.
Night dropped its iron curtain.
Later,
I sleep dead-eyed
behind a spinning wheel.
Categories:
edgily, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Why can't my blind spot see?
it’s shadowing me in the eye's periphery
edgily creeping sideways like a crab,
watching me, it’s stalking me,
deceiving me with popped eyes
propped up on stilts, curling away when I look.
You live within my every gaze, yet evade my searching blaze.
Why my dear spot do you hide and blind me in so many ways?
Is your evasive spot futile, furtive, or a fugitive in the clear?
Are you black, white, brindle or transparently clear.
Do you suck, poke, protrude, grind
or cut, with a laser sear to blind.
Why can't I see you,
my blind spot hole?
I know you’re there
unseen on the edge!
I’ll shut my eyes now
and hope that you’ll
will be gone when
I awake and stare
to see you clearly there with me,
scene sharing two-eyed
In binocular vision.
Categories:
edgily, visionary, wisdom,
Form: Free verse
After the quiet snow
comes the grinding grit
throwing blind shrapnel
at windshields.
Night drives wind-horses,
stampeding phantoms
that enter my glassy eyes,
then tug at the steering wheel
as I edgily negotiate
the corners of swerving shadows.
Once, the hind hoof of a doe
slapped at my startled face,
the Chevy twitched
and plowed on
as its lights raked the earth.
Through the rear mirror
I thought for a moment
I could see myself
prone on the asphalt.
The deer escaped,
but it had slashed holes in the sludge,
those tracks still drum and echo
under nights iron curtain.
Categories:
edgily, poetry,
Form: Free verse
‘’ ‘ ‘ ‘’’ ‘’’’’
Like a lady-in-waiting in rags of night
questions divide wrong from right,
ripping faded threads without seams
as daybreak continues its beams, its beams
Again, yearning to taste the thrill of dawn
clay feet slowly loitering, dawdling on
for crystalline wishes that did not come to pass
dazed eyes are now compelled to plead, to ask
Was such existence just a dance of mixed fantasy?
a fool’s waltz of pungent deceit and treachery
a wrenching flood of wasted years
cloaked in love masks and bloodshot tears
And she hides behind aged trees and edgily slips
While salt of pain pressed on Calvary’s lips,
an echo strains she may be cherished still
that only the cross of doubt haunts her will
More shadows loom upon hills rancid green
is this a tale of truth or lie, her twilight unseen?
she breathes to touch stretched hours of time
oh, will she leave or stay; tossing a dime, a dime
©
‘ ‘’’’’ ‘ ‘
Contest: Debbie Guzzi’s Tell Me a Story
By: nette onclaud/
Categories:
edgily, angst, introspection, love,
Form: Couplet