Short Pedestals Poems

good people ? 
standing on pedestals 
golden showers
raining down in torrents
do they really not know...

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I have erected too many statues in the name of love.
Not even they subdued!
Steadily, they tore themselves from their pedestals
and left...

There is no love!
God weeps in my heart...
Don’t cry, Father!...

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Sad eyed virgins screaming their silence
to glaring Christs calming the violence
devils awaiting their new arrivals
innocent angels motionless on pedestals
untouched mortals awaiting their birth
to a new day a new world with unforgiven earth...

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The marquee's silhouetting neon heart's rejoicing as she sequined
Dracaena whom had merely dreamnt this dream; a fathom to be..
Bustling city streets her trouvere`in morphed vibrant vivid scenes
Translucent wings cable cars pedestals invoked her, highrise stars....

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Pedestals..

Climbing up

Looking up

Seeming deviations

Extraordinaries..

Characters posing

As deserving of

Attention..leaders

It might be said..

Or knowers..

Or worshipers..

The stories

Separation has 

Wrought..

Showing up as

Already This......

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You look at me with eyes big, 
begging for sympathy,
campaigning for your side 
like a seasoned politician. 
I'm sorting memories, 
like fingers through boxed photos, 
noting moments where 
trust has been misplaced.
When our eyes meet 
there is only
stony silence as angels 
fall off their pedestals. 

This is how a friendship ends....

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Set in stone
I might be
As jewel
Her, Aphrodite

Eyes, but who 
Inward stare
Upon pure nude
Venus de Milo

Cold cold marbel
Questionable masterpiece 
Or warm warm rains
Crying towards Greece

However shall beauty
Reach out to thee
To worlds passed
Time has never pleased

But, by any other name
I am woman; figurine
Upon others pedestals
I am thee...

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drum majorette
with her kick high boots with tassels
short pleated black and white skirt
oversized gold-embellished band hat

leading the ban on an autumn day
homecoming parade for a small town
promptly put on little girls’ perpetual pedestals

not recognizing this is the best day
she will ever have in her life
not anticipating her fatal car wreck tomorrow.
her grandmother waving and taking photos!...

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Pursuing greed, 
we go beyond taking for need. 
Our spirit corrupted,
forfeit to material gain.
A head-on dash to unseen goal.

Mankind pumped up with pride,
possessions and more and more.
We stand as plastic gods
on pedestals of shame.
Our new order, the synthetic world:
founded on self-cherishing,
focused on pleasure seeking,
not knowing of happiness.

What cost our greed?
What damage our excess?
What price our pride?...

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when i am down
you are my guide to wellness abound

when on my face is a frown
you are my well intended high class clown

when there is no one else around
you are the best friend that can always be found

when i take the hard falls to the ground
you are always there so pick me up without a sound

you are the rarest gem of a friend so incredibly profound
i put you on the highest of pedestals....highly acclaimed and world reknown...

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My heart longs to hug
and to snug
In ur warm arms.
Not to be left in darkness.
We used to snog
On the large log,
Feeling ur tenderness
And every sweetness
Of yours lips.
Your swaying hips
Astounded my senses.
There are no pedestals
Reserved in the heavens
For girl wit such outlooks.
You exist in my fantasy
Visiting in my fantasy,
For a gem I have lost.
Heaven's taken my best.
I need no other kiss
But your kiss
From heaven....

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With claws capturing it's abode.
A palace for monarchs was built,
On pedestals of unsung odes.

As the sun waned, proud fountains sighed,
Gently weeping, splashing sweet tears,
The moon opened cratered eyes wide,
And shone away the fountain's fears.

The opulence of this land too,
Faded to black in time's hard hands.
Forgotten trails like Xanadu,
Could not conquer time's slipping sands.


Contest: Stepping Through Time
6 Jan 2017...

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The sizzle of the griddle
amongst the chitter-chatter
of nubile meanderings

The St. Francis rocks
rocks the soda POP stops...

This fifties Fonzi haunt 
for the twenty-first century's gaunt
feeds the bellies of San Francisco's dreamers.

Amongst a milkshake swirl
stand pretty girls 
tee's rolled up tattoos unfurled
on lollipop like pedestals they twirl
unwinding like wet red and white paper straws
barelegged or blue-jeaned.

The St. Francis rocks
rocks the dinners scene....

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