The books, two floors high,
levitating toward my upper limbs.
Not costly. Worth every penny.
Spread out by the tablefuls.
Grateful for this claustrophobic,
pyrophobic atmosphere.
Pages fingered, on bindings linger -
what’s the subject…who’s the author?
Snatch up before the next in line. Don’t
get left behind. At the end of the line with bags, boxes,
wagons, carts, kids. Hand full of dollars spent
sans burns, scars; no heart attacks.
Smiles upon smiles find
their way back to the packed parking lot.
At home, a lovely spread of books.
The bigger the stage the grander the scheme,
and we are.
The Creators brush in the stream of Ocean waves
Painting with feeling and shading with inner thought
Inventing a life a moment of escape
Swimming towards an open gate
A trigger with a conscience
A finger on a dime in somebody's tore pocket
What is saved at the end of the day without the skill of care.
Losing a life lost in disaster
Living to prove the glistening of diamonds
Who's shine a reflection of the dream to be left in peace
Diamonds made from the tears off every shooting star
Screams kept in silent smothered jars trapped by ocean waves
Released by moonstruck tides smashing the fallen day
They say apply yourself to a civilization that needs to dream
Pick up those who have fallen along the path as they are the hinges fallen from that rusted gate
"Dragonfly, 10 Floors Up"
I saw a dragonfly today
hovered outside my window
I was a ghost floating 10 floors up
it saw me,
we flew away
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Equal on both indebted was the house,
There was but one small difference:
They that had always nourished grouse—
And whose drive always tried to hop,
Floors boasted on truth from roof top,
Discreet foundation kept silence.
___________________________________
Free verse | 07.11.2022|
OCEAN FLOORS
The sunset, the ocean floors that never gets to see the beauty of the sun light. The crashing of the ocean floors, boats of wars, treasures, treasures that lies on the ocean floors. Places, places from long ago, the things of ancient time's hides in the darkness of your world. Strong and powerful you are, the loud noises when your waves roars. The waves we ride on, the desires to go deep into your blue waters, treasures, unknown treasures, the secrets of the under world.
We dive deep to explore your world, come, come see the madness of the waves as it toss the ships from every side. your ways are unpredictable, deep down I can't see my hands before my eye's. Some take their last breath trying to discover what you hold inside. Ocean floors, treasures from the past that's left behind. Diamonds, rubies, and gemstones. The roar of the ocean says I claim them all, what ever it is that lies on the ocean floors.
I skiddle down the hardwood hall;
Scratching, sliding, bump and fall.
Your floors???!!!
I live in the fall,
the dying nation between two worlds.
I am barefoot,
strapped to a catapult.
I toil where the dark storms brew.
I see you there,
like the armrest between the discomfort,
and the sadness.
And I see you standing staunchly,
as if the answers
are in the lightning you seek.
It is only me.
And I reside here,
where all lands die,
not where you can find comfort
in your lost lack of liberation.
I know you wish for color in the grey,
but I am ash in the pot you burned,
not the rainbow for which you yearned
The emotions that bubble up,
Fizzing from your finger tips,
staining the already worn carpet
as it licks its lips across the floor.
Passion doesn’t spit both ways.
Would it feel like dancing?
Eyes holding onto another
with hands discovering
new found love on the small of a back.
Or perhaps more like breaking.
Love snapping into sixty seven bits
sixty six mice greedily grab, devour,
while one bit is left watching
the other dregs collecting dust.
To have heart and soul ripped from its cage
and placed before the eyes
which have been stained
with sin for so long.
Arms carrying ink cartridges to a lover.
Dripping dry the entire way,
so that no new romance novel will come
to existence,
and the empty printers will, too, cry themselves to sleep.
One set of two irises, two pupils
is all humanity receives
to view a universe so massive
the eyes of God would need broadening.
“But no, passion doesn’t spit both ways”
No bouquets of hyacinths to fill the summer daze.
Our weakness turned blue as the sea
where the muted telephone was fed.
Refusing to feel anything but lonely,
yet never as alone as the hopeless romantic.
Gotta tell ya bout this fellow named Anthony
Was relaxing on his twentieth floor balcony
A scantily clad sweetie
Cross the way said, “want a freebie?”
Poor Anthony fell twenty floors to his finality
© Jack Ellison 2015
Squeaky Floors
It’s way past your bedtime,
You’re still wide awake.
How many more books,
Is it gonna take?
Little boys at this time of night,
Should be fast asleep.
Lay down and close your eyes,
Let me not hear a peep.
You need your rest,
To grow big and strong.
It’s important,
I would never steer you wrong.
Give me a kiss goodnight,
And say your prayers.
Don’t worry,
I’ll stay right here.
At last,
He fell asleep.
I waited until,
I thought it was deep.
I made my way,
To the door.
But he quickly awoke,
From the squeaking floor.
Go back to sleep,
My dear son.
No rest for the weary,
Until it’s done.
Squeaky Clean Floors of Teak
All clean and shiny is my teak
When they step on my
Glossy black my heart leaps
Joyous smiles deep down my timbers leak
You can see your face and physique
When you look at me
Don’t walk on me with your dirty feet
Shhh….. Whisper when you speak
If you’re real quiet you’ll hear me squeak.
i sit as this desk and things dont seem like such a mess
i loosen some chains for personal gains
trying to see things so i can free my soul
trying to stay strong for i know this is where i belong
knocking on my burden doors
walking on these recovery floors
i sit with an open mind hoping that its myself i find
i finally had enough this life has been too rough
for so long no one could see the help that i would desperatly need
i would feed off the hunger for the need to feel free
i cant ever change who i was i can only change who i am
ive opened a new gate with fate
i go to meetings received with pleasant greetings
who am i now not my yesturday and today thats ok
you’re freezing feet and most admired
drizzling cityscape so tired
of boring through the screen
the saddest such machine
unwired
with eyes as dead as cellar doors
and sunken blue to ocean floors
why won't you sing along
this cemetery song
is yours
what ancient ground in time recovers
brittle hearts of teenage lovers
and tried without a trace
no other pearl to place
above hers
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