I wake to a ceiling that never changes.
The light spills in like an accusation.
Time is a slow leak,
dripping purpose onto the floor
where my feet no longer rush.
I used to believe in ladders.
Now I just stare at ceilings
and wonder if floors exist.
I measure my days in coffee spoons,
tiny scoops of borrowed energy.
The steam rises, restless and aimless
like thoughts I never finish.
They settle somewhere I can’t reach.
I used to believe in sunrise ,
Now I just pour the day
and ponder if hours dissolve.
I suit up for stray interrogations
pride buttoned up like a carapace.
Sweat trickles and tickles
like suspicion crawling down my spine.
I drape pantomime across hunched shoulders.
I used to believe in conversations,
Now I just nod my head
and surrender to the script.
I tally stones and crumpled bottles
toss them like failed intentions
into the bin of almosts,
where echoes of effort rustle
like mice skittering down rusty footpaths.
I used to believe in plans.
Now I just trace the outlines
and color them in with sighs.
I crawl toward the bed like a deadline I missed.
Even sleep feels like work I am not qualified for.
Le Havres Georges Braque
as a Fauv/Cubist was no slack
He also loved to outline white
his still life* such a delight
COMBINED OUTLINES
gestural flourishes
mingling
with
the
naive
images
solitary
simplicity
of
imagery
reflowering
subtlety
enlarged
rough-hewn
&given
grandeur
a diagram
of isolation
in everyday
images
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
BRIGHTNESS
Poets, be assured,
I don't desire all the sun,
a crack is enough ...
WARMTH
If the bed feels
empty without you,
me, further ...
CLARITY
Let the lamp turn off,
the lamp, the torch ...
Not the day ...
SUN
In the afternoon, the sun doesn't die ...
simply rest its light
with the moon ...
F L O W E R
Out of season,
any field flower
feels rose ...
HIGHWAY
On motorways,
cars don’t pass,
autos fly ...
TRAFFIC
In stopped traffic
people scream,
horns speak ...
MOUTHY
My almost friend,
my life is simple, short,
your tongue is feline, long ...
Snowdrifts blow caught in the mountain wind
shifting movements in the currants bend
before them are the days of summer fled
into the past like former days now dead
Might you seek there light of sunny days
autumn winter spring now a former haze
water slipping holds and rushes quickly on
so swiftly fades a life not dwelt upon
The floodgates rush down the rivers flash
where water plunges and run the rapids fast
here our lives are in fleeting moments gone
and few will know if voices carried on
And what hopes man in his life to gain
it’s miseries if in his sins remain
tomorrow’s promise know we it will come
accounted little in our days their sum
This lonely place flower beds lay fallow
it’s beauty fades roots not deep but shallow
twilight veils fields of mankind’s dreams
pursuing endlessly hopes of better things
You till the soil there a garden plant
always the weeds in them do supplant
the roots are choked and tendril trails creep
and strangles lives in the dreamers sleep
COPYRIGHT © 2016
C Michael Miller
PoetryofProvidence
He was a kind man, hurt by life
She, a caring widow
Together, sweet love so tender
Two souls, outlined by hope.
Yet outlines of time have strange plans
His limp hand she now clings
As he lies silent near death's door
She hears the angels sing.
Written on 3/28/2015
As thr raindrops fall inside it's felt,trapped outside a woman's world as my heart
begins to melt.
A special queen of hearts I was dealt,from long distance she sends her help.
Holding her picture deeply in her eyes I look,there's no joy in saying good-bye
and love isn't lived by the book,my heart is trapped like a fish while my feelings
are caught on a hook.
Maybe what I need lies inside of me and I haven't found it yet.
The obstacles in life has me surrounded.
So many times they told me to be strong,but when I look for their faces they are
gone.
Where is the woman that brings me home ?
Now that I'm alone it's hard to hold on.
I feel persucuted for my rights more than my wrongs;joy came from a love
song,pain has torn my chest apart.
So I write compassionate thoughts to give you the outline of a broken heart.