Short Ephemera Poems

Small drops of cold rain gently grace her space
A wet water vain, running down her face

All things have a time when they have to leave,
Some souls start to climb, whilst the left loved grieve,...

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Capsules of time…
no beginning or end

The view from without,
the view from within

Defining the space,
transporting the hours

Moment by moment
—again and again

(Haverford College: October, 2020)...

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The essence of fashion
is ephemera

Emotion and change
dancing cheek to cheek

The top of the mountain,
a revolving door

Those fifteen minutes…
some to lose—some to gain

(The New Room: October, 2020)...

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An enigma
wrapped in mystery
covered in secrets
risking hell
A legend
from the ages
bereft of sages
casting spells
The message
nondescriptive
in ephemera
laden tongues
Lucy in the sky
bejeweling
screaming deafness
— silence won

(Dreamsleep: April, 2024)
...

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A five minute fad
  a one week wonder
fame for a quarter of an hour...

Fleeting images..
shadows in the sun
vapour of the morning dew..

Petals of a flower



              a one-off-
performance

penning
    a hiku


touching
    a sculpture

viewing
    a painting
         ...    anew...

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Grasping it like an heirloom.
Alone in this room.
I saw a whisker.
I knew it was from her.
Gray, yet somehow bright.
A piece of you that you left one night.
Trying to clean, to help myself calm.
But now I am crying from what is in my palm.
I miss when your whiskers poked me.
Like needles from a pine tree.
A simple memory of your love.
A reminder you sent from up above....

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You and I 
 Are here and gone 
 In the breath of a lie
 In the space of a song

 Overturned and reversed
 By the force of a spell
 In the lull of a curse
 In the toll of a bell

 Instantly changed
 Sown or dispersed
 Our souls rearranged
 In a rueful dirge

 You and I in the rain
 Without eye or limb
 Dislodged and deranged
 We move like the wind

 Written by © Raven Drake...

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A flattened rose mumbles
An old cracked button chuckles
Tickled by a 2nd place ribbon
In the corner a tattered doll weeps
Comically consoled by a one-eyed bear
Ballet slippers long for a pointed toe
A dried corsage sits inside a dusty tiara
A leather-bound diploma shouts success
A tear stained letter sorrow

For joy and sadness are but fleeting moments
Imbedded in the soul of ephemera
...

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Ephemera, a short lived life
of cherished times before the strife 
meandered into detritus
with depth enough to bury thus
beneath the memories with spite.

Photographs torn up by his wife,
the shreds did cut him like a knife,
and nevermore did he discuss
ephemera!

Will his life soon be free from rife,
will he discern a golden fife
to lead him on without a fuss,
down new pathways where he can trust 
treasure in the scraps of his life's
ephemera?
...

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Ephemera hung from the philosopher’s stoned mind

A plethora of rubies dangled at the heart of suspense

Diaphanous souls mingled at crossroads of thought

Seeping miasma and fragrance cutting diamond’s edge

Archetypes flowing at the rubicon of incisive return


16th February 2020

I chose the words in bold for no reason other than they came to my mind. Let me 

call it stream of consciousness, or poetry in motion ......

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Tears flow in torrents,
spasmodic gulp and shiver,
I weep aloud when haunted by some moonlight ghost resemblance
my dead cousin’s fleeting angel halo to the fore.
Shrouded in a haze of mournful rupture,
knowing that our deepest wounds precede the grim acknowledgement of threadbare memory,
feeble consolation as we quietly sulk.
We dull persistent ache with fond ephemera,
evanescent lifespan’s meek recall for bygone echo,
a funeral cortège hymn beneath our mortal passage....

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