You marrow-deep in the bone-dry field,
sprawled like a wishbone snapped wrong-
the ground drinks your weight,
but won't swallow you whole.
wind combs its fingers through the wheat,
a mother's touch turned phantom.
That house- small as a postage stamp,
licked, sealed, and sent too far-
waits with its back turned.
your arms are bridges to nowhere,
your legs, two broken clock hands,
stuck in a time that does not move.
still, your gaze- sharp as a knife-edge moon-
slices the dance like a butcher's twine.
the land here is a tight-lipped secret,
a locked jaw of yellowed grass,
a lungful of dust that never exhales.
you wear silence like a second skin,
but your eyes, keen as a needle bite,
thread the gap between longing and gravity.
eagle-eyed girl, you have the hunters staring,
but the hunted bones
tell me- does the sky ever blink first?
Categories:
lungful, allusion, anger, art, beauty,
Form: Free verse
Angst in the night
A nebulous soul was looking for a body to possess,
I was in a cocoon of dread pressed down
could not breaths
The thing, this being was stealing lungful of air.
Terror is a kitchen in a basement, with a floor made
of rough planks from sunken ships, white as the bones
of dead mariners
It has no smell,
Colourless,
And bloodless.
I got up and lit the night- light, the room was ice cold
the dog came with her body gave me warmth.
This misty being had tried to take my body its hunger
for life was endless.
In the morning sunlight warmed my face
my dog had come from the past and saved my life.
Categories:
lungful, 3rd grade, abuse, cat,
Form: Blank verse
Angst in the night
A nebulous soul was looking for a body to possess,
I was in a cocoon of dread pressed down
could not breaths
The thing, this being was stealing lungful of air.
Terror is a kitchen in a basement, with a floor made
of rough planks from sunken ships, white as the bones
of dead mariners
It has no smell,
Colourless,
And bloodless.
I got up and lit the night- light, the room was ice cold
the dog came with her body gave me warmth.
This misty being had tried to take my body its hunger
for life was endless.
In the morning sunlight warmed my face
my dog had come from the past and saved my life.
Categories:
lungful, corruption, death, evil,
Form: Blank verse
Cramped in dark seclusion
A little soul in wait to be whole
Like a fish in a bowl of ocean
Adrift but can gulp a lungful
It’s the beginning of an end
Chrysalis out from the sphere
Emerging from cocoon bend
Exposed to the atmosphere
Dry, arid air touching skin
No longer blind and invisible
Can see and can be seen
Can feel, now discernable
Free from shelled captivity
The caterpillar crept in the open
Predators lurked in anonymity
Waiting for its grip to loosen
Dodging all dangers on its way
Inspired for struggling on its own
Resolute not to give itself away
Waiting till wings make it known
Mocked for how slow it moves
Ridiculed for its weird ugly shape
Maggot with nothing to prove
Fluttering is its only escape
Metamorphosis took its form
A change sudden and so swift
A butterfly transmuting the worm
Flapping its wings in the air; it lifts
People who are losing hope
Slowly inching and edging today
Like caterpillars, learn to cope
A butterfly, you will be one day!
Categories:
lungful, butterfly, metaphor,
Form: Pantoum
Summer Night
Sven, my best friend, had a motor boat, we`re young
and invited two girls with us it was a summer night we
had a cold beer, Sven who looked like an actor got
the best-looking girl
I wore glasses had to do with Sven`s girlfriend`s friend.
We fished for crabs at the black mountain that
dropped straight into the fjord and had no shoreline
we caught some and went to
a small island lit a fire to cook them,
I remember the light of the night it was not dark
but azure yet without the moon
it must have been in June.
I sat dreaming it was the contrasting blue that absorbed me.
My friend who had dark wavy hair had gone into
the bushes with his girl and I sat beside a sad woman
who like me felt rejected
I held around her tried to kiss her, but she refused,
and that was ok; I was here for the summer night
smoked cigarettes that glowed like ephemeral cats hunting rats
when I inhaled a lungful of Turkish tobacco,
drank more beer and waited for dawn
that in Norway was and is what poetry is made of.
As for the girl she had fallen asleep.
Categories:
lungful, childhood, children, chocolate, christian,
Form: Blank verse
Here comes the phase
Where I put on this mask yet again
I hate to act as if I care as well
Knowing that I can’t adjust a lonely thing
Feeling so hideous
Equally inside and out
Numb it all
Even me
The rind, the coat, the imperfect
Skeleton
The everyday life of yours truly
And a girl in question of her world
My breath is consequently a lungful of rubbish
I merely don’t fit
I’m the remain of dead life
What am I doing?
The mask isn’t caught on me anymore
And it’s drooping sour
One day they’ll all understand
That I had stood ready to burn
I don’t know just how to go about it
How to hook the words on air
Not a soul pays attention anyhow
My presence is anonymous.
Categories:
lungful, depression, growing up, life,
Form: Free verse
I inhaled a lungful of cigarette smoke,
While waiting for the number nine,
I coughed so much I thought I’d choke.
The woman ignored the no smoking sign;
It served her right if she got a heavy fine.
Another man asked her to stop
And said his lungs deserved fresh air,
He raged so much I feared he’d drop;
But she chatted to someone who wasn’t there,
And looked at the man with a vacant stare.
For Cyndi’s You Do Understand contest
Categories:
lungful, health,
Form: Quintain (English)
Walking down Lehigh Ave in North Philadelphia where I used to play
Now I see teenagers playing with dirty syringes and caps of rock
Women strutting and screaming, "Hey," to the car slowing down to peak
Gotta get one more
And the mother cries as the police drag her son away
Cars with flats and smashed windshields litter the streets and gangsters
Old men walk fast and the litter races to keep up
Glass crunches underfoot as the junkie holds up his hand with two fingers
"Whatchou want old man?"
And the newspaper flies past swirling and the old man thinks it's the end
Police roll past and the thugmen walk casually in all directions
"Da Bien,"thugish screams and the dealers return
As she sticks the needle in her arm and pulls the blood through
She goes into a nod and her eyelids droop but a tear rolls on her freckled cheek
Its the tear that has power as her breath becomes close
She takes one last lungful and the tear rolls slow as the heroin takes her life
Categories:
lungful, death, old, old,
Form: Narrative
each lungful of air
a reminder of God’s love
depict love and care
promote and embrace His will
every moment you get
250720111330
Categories:
lungful, faith, love
Form: Tanka
you could see
it in her eyes
the night before
was lingering
into late morning
the pain of one
too many
bad choices
pounding
her young body
with each step
each burning
lungful of cold air
she passed me
on the footpath
while the city
screams
scratched
at her soul
&
bashed
bashed
bashed
at her brain
with her handbag
bigger than the dress
she had on
she was one
hell
of a mess
just another
party wreck
Categories:
lungful, angst, confusion, people,
Form: Free verse