Your nails are painted pink,
but the edges are chipped,
revealing tiny slivers of skin
beneath the color.
You press your fingers to mine,
lining them up like constellations,
and ask if I think they’re ugly.
I shake my head,
because how could I?
Even in pieces,
you’re the brightest thing
I’ve ever held.
Categories:
slivers, angst, beautiful, cute, love,
Form: Free verse
A thousand yellow and orange slivers of light vibrate.
Their heat permeates.
Slowly they glide into pairs and groups, singing as one.
Alas, this solitary yellow light remains.
The others have no use for it.
The loathe it for it is an abomination.
Is it really that different?
Is it not one of them?
It grows to detest itself,
Its rhythm is destructively interfering with itself
The other lights for a moment survey the frantic,
They see not its abhorrence of itself.
And If they could- Why should they care?
Categories:
slivers, angst, horror, morning, prayer,
Form: Free verse
voice
and tone
inflections
gives away mood
sometimes shows sorrow
stress conveyed quite clearly
in tiny conversations
in slivers of body language
hypervigilant children read you
Categories:
slivers, life,
Form: Nonet
By Gail DeBole
Updated January 13, 2019
Thin shards of time spattered about
Mis-wedged into spaces that add to our doubt.
Echoes of time vex and puzzle our souls
May overlap boundaries with science unknown.
Slivers of a girl’s laughter with no girl around
Sound disturbingly eerie and deeply profound.
Categories:
slivers, mystery, science, science fiction,
Form: Rhyme
hedgerows greenup-
nature's pastiche
awakens from winter sleep.
Quiet greets the Spring morn,
a shaft of light diffuses night
snow melts slowly-
a trickle,unseen,runs free
begins a new spring
#
A babbling burn ,riverine unseen,
a stream of freshwater silts sloping banks
the current slows to-
eddys, where fat chubb doze.
Quiet greets the Spring morn,
a shaft of light
diffuses night into -
a dawn chorus.
Amid the eerie dayspring light
yesterday's memories glow so bright
#
blossoms a welcome
springtime emblem-
the foretast of fruitage
to come
Categories:
slivers, imagery, spring,
Form: Imagism
The weight of nightmares
Renders one
Crushed in a corner
Crumbled to fragments
Disintegrated to splinters
Slivers of self, decomposed
Bundle of anguish
Clump of sorrow
Lump of grief
Yearn to break this
Hope to block
Oh stop this, oh stop
Wake op in this corner
Mishmash of confusion
Cluttered turmoil
Racing heart beat
A river of tears
and chatter, chatter
of teeth on teeth
Arms around shiver
Hold tight, hold tight
Slowly the room
Is a room instead of
Halls of anguish
Gradually realism
Overtakes surreal
Warm shower washes
away the last of...
***
February 2, 2017
Categories:
slivers, abuse, anger, angst, fear,
Form: Free verse
We see but a sliver
Of golden gleams,
We see but a sliver
Of prophetic dreams,
We see but a sliver
Of many terrific things,
We see but a sliver
Of his graceful wings;
For these heavenly things,
God asks eyes fully open
To see and then betoken
Others to see a sliver
More, of that golden river.
-See the dreams of demon's so easily as we lay unconscious. Pray you wake up before the nightmares begin.
Categories:
slivers, faith, philosophy,
Form: Rhyme
Amongst the moon
A crescent sliver adorns my neck
sitting on my pink pedestal
way up high in the milky way sky
wearing my bling diamond ring
wrapped in my white fur shawl
donning my red patented high heels
my Betty Boop telephone rings
earth is calling
"Any aliens up there?", earth asks.
"None that I can see", Betty replies
then I reveal down to Earth
my luxurious purple hair
so, earthlings can climb up to the moon
and sit on a crescent sliver
the moon is a light giver
moondreaming at night
By Susan J. Mills
Categories:
slivers, imagination
Form: Imagism
A button collection in an old tin can
A dipping wax model we made of our hands
at the Renaissance Festival, one day in fall
The first sound of Mozart in Benneby Hall
A love note gone crumpled in earthenware pots
A needle thin necklace bedraggled in knots
A wooden carved zebra with amber eye shine
An old Trosser canister for coffee to grind
White toast with butter and honey in stacks
A morning mint sun folding shade on our backs
A summer of tar stains on feet without shoes
while we endeared moments we never would lose
An evening with salt on our skin from the beach
The height of emotion you suddenly reach
when peaches are washed off of sand in the gulf
You sweet and salty and sure of yourself
Seven good friends you can count on your hands
Mango tree sugar in silvering sand
A laugh like your jaws will detach in relief
A twinkle in eyes growing wise in belief
The pocket thesaurus, nineteen twenty two
My eager ambition to be close to you.
Categories:
slivers, childhood, friendship, happiness, life,
Form: Couplet