I want to cling
To you
The way vultures do
Circling in
On every movement
Until the last exhale in winter’s air
Replacing bed sheets
With blankets of
Frosted covered grass
Opening up to me
Slowly
Like a flower at the end of March
Almost as if
The exposure
Tickled your rib cage
Tell me
About the things
Your eyes have held on to
As the canvas
Of light blue
Admixes to obsidian
Over the
Taut inexpressive
Coat your skeleton wears
I want to cling
To you
The way black widows do
Circling in
On every movement
Until the last tug against a web
Replacing bed sheets
With blankets
That feel like silk
Becoming closed off to me
Slowly
Like daisies when the sun goes down
I want to be
Indented
In your mind
Like a child
After
Their first bee sting
Cautious of my presence
But still wish
You could touch my face
Categories:
inexpressive, animal, deep,
Form: Free verse
Under the bright red umbrella
Whilst all around poured down the rain
I giddily kissed some fella
An attempt to forget my pain.
It was springtime there in Paris
The faint-hearted ran from the storm
Me, oh so hard to embarrass
Brazenly pranced in rare form.
Until a sudden loud ringing
My phone rudely ended my dance
The crushing news it was bringing:
My mother had lost her last chance.
The cancer she fought: aggressive
The treatment was iffy at best
Agonized cries inexpressive
Of my loss, of mom’s final rest.
I slumped in the rain for some hours
Tears soaking as much as the clouds
Until like rare winter flowers
Umbrellas all over the crowds.
Mom so loved the most vibrant hues
Her favorite always bright red
I figured I’d nothing to lose
Saw scarlet above a male head.
Under the bright red umbrella
Whilst all around poured down the rain
I giddily kissed some fella
An attempt to forget my pain.
November 3, 2018
Categories:
inexpressive, angst, art, goodbye, grief,
Form: Rhyme
Deepest Memories and Thoughts
A little child
with big wet tears
An early love
a crushed heart
Feelings of utter loneliness
other people’s cruelty
Jagged-broken glass
a big toe bleeding profusely
Crying in the dark
as shadows close in
Childhood fight
a broken-bloody nose—the “Bully Boy” lost
A person’s deception foisted on others
fools are born—never give suckers an even break
A cousin in adolescence dies suddenly
his body—bloodless, inexpressive, stone-cold
Praying to God on this tragedy
His answer—Silence, Why?
Human Nature
expect the unexpected
Unexpected kindness
a stranger’s gift or a good deed
That First kiss
still blushing today
Your dreams
never lose sight of them
Long-dead parents and grandparents
always in my heart and my psyche
Life and Death
the finite boundaries of our mortal world
Eternity beckons to us all
have no fear—embrace it
On meeting God one day—
Oh, that’s who you are! mirabile visu!
My Wife, My Love, My Life
—an eternal blessing for sure!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
May 1, 2018 (Lyric)
Categories:
inexpressive, analogy, emotions, feelings, introspection,
Form: Lyric
How come I never looked like Hot Stuff in a sundress?
My sundresses by comparison look anemic and shapeless
My figure is not what it used to be (it is hopeless)
It’s fallen down, spread out and looks a trifle excessive
Hot Stuff’s figure is lush, provocative and caressive
Her sundress is stylish, vivid and really expensive
My secondhand garb lacks style and are oppressive
Maybe a sundress worn at seventy-five is not impressive
Whereas, Hot Stuff’s body and dress are “in your face” aggressive
Am I too hard on myself, too critical and depressive?
Let’s face it; I’ll never look like Hot Stuff in a sundress
Just thinking about it makes me manic-depressive
Hot Stuff’s look is suggestive and expressive
Whereas mine is age-regressive and inexpressive
I never looked like Hot Stuff in retrospect
Yet we all have “our day” in one way or another, I suspect
I had mine so it’s time to step back and reflect
(Kindly!) on our replacements without resentment
Wishing them splendor in the sun without impediment.
“The Sundress”
Carol Zic
Categories:
inexpressive, funny
Form: Rhyme
Computer
Thinking machine
Quickly access information
Detached, indifference, inexpressive, objectivity
Superhuman
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
February 22, 2010
Poetic form: Cinquain
Categories:
inexpressive, computer-internet
Form: Cinquain
Script Cognitive
Guiding Hierophants
And Priestess’s
The voices of subliminal
Spiritual clue-lings
Reach out to us
Where the quiz-lings longings
Seeks their answers
Footprints through the millennia
They have left their traces
Verse of heroes
Heroines of the stanza
Utter from silent wounds
And heart wrenching beauty
Souls to contain the expressive
Un-worded
The fancy and truth
Deliberated on the pages
Of their hearts
Left open to the targets
Of emotion
Stand courageous only human
To the ridicule and the laudable
For the poetry of the world
Write on
Geniuses of the word
Send the enterprise of messages
Speak for all
All who find inexpressive
Their language faltered
Needs vocal
To satisfy the yearning dumbness
Of floating poignant
Captured
And remind us
Where the quiz-lings longings
Seek their answers
Categories:
inexpressive, on writing and words,
Form: Free verse