Short Anodyne Poems

Imperfect mountain
Cyclone somnambulist
An anodyne true...

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On the moon a shadow

Colors in a crazy dance

Enlightened by the movement of

Anodyne stars 

Naked and fragile under the unveiled sky

Aby...

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The realm
of the mind,
where dream
           abounds
private,tender
ravaged by rhetoric
where confusion
             struggles
with truth:
melancholia breathes
secret intrigues..
the anodyne..
        prevails...

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It's 6 AM in the morning and I'm wide awake,
Insomnia has been a close friend, and so is heartache. 

When I can't sleep I write poems;
they're my anodyne to dull me to sleep,

When I get suffocated 
by all the wicked things I keep....

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CLANDESTINE

Clandestine…
nice and clean
her intent
candle glow..
all for show
his beguile
mesmerized
hypnotized
enticed 
lured

Clandestine…
anodyne
 arena
underground
concealed
furtively
she bares
her
soul
lured

Clandestine…
surreptitious
squeaky clean
secretively
seduced
conceded 
surrendered
and then..

DO
NOT
DISTURB
















© Kim van Breda—2 July 2015...

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The Moon is full and bright.
It's white.
But I know...
it's black;
or, anyway, grey.
And swaddled in the airless
Really Black.
(like me.)

The sun is yellow,
the Sky blue. 
But the sun's always
seemed white to me.
The anodyne Sky - so less 
blue
than one who is blue
down deep, so blue. 

And when the Sky
seems fruited with
color, I know it's stolen
hues.  Or, leastways,
borrowed dyes when
daylight daily dies....

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