The Visitor
He pushed at the open door
no sound
just darkness inside.
Dust filtered his
nostrils,
a mustiness of lost years
inhabited his senses.
A loose floorboard
creaked in the stairwell,
the aroma
of her Chanel provoked memories
of his
living hell.
A tear of self-pity congealed
in the dirt at his feet
He switched on the light
"Hello son
I knew you'd be back;
He's gone..."
At birth I enter the cell
Heaven and Hell
Here on Earth, it’s hard to tell
Heaven and Hell
The reading from the Holy Pell
Heaven and Hell
A highway or a stairwell
Heaven and Hell
Milton and Dante, do tell
Heaven and Hell
Screwtape’s nephew learns well
Heaven and Hell
A king and the witch’s spell
Heaven and Hell
Emotions a hurricane swell
Heaven and Hell
A voice left in quell
Heaven and Hell
Watch out for Luther’s inkwell
Heaven and Hell
Past the shadow and death’s dell
Heaven and Hell
The bell’s knell
Heaven and Hell
The 13th pealing as well
Heaven and Hell
Resolution:
Covered by a pall
And that’s all
A death and pangs on Earth
And then eternal birth
In the tiny panel room, there’s a distant sound of thunder:
we huddle together, instinctively even though we are not acquaintances
two people caught in a small space while Armageddon happens around us
We exchange first names; I know this is the end
I have already seen several colleagues leap to their death
the woman has torn her pantihose; there are remnants of sash in her hair
her forehead has slashes of soot across it
I never expected this, I told her
an inner voice told me we had to get to a stairwell
We are 82 floors up! I argued. The voice was insistent.
I lift her with me, and force her to head down those stairs
It is dark and dreary. Evil is lurking around every corner.
My heartbeat has never sounded this loud.
That was 9-11-2001.
We are still good friends 24 years later.
Out of my darkness
Man made a candle of wax.
To showcase the temple
With a lighted candlestick,
Made with own hands.
To deceive the nations ,
Unto, the stairwell of destruction.
Out of my darkness
On a wayward path of broad,
God revealed I am but formed of clay.
Into the depths of thy heart,
A spirit of fire was ignited.
A new cornerstone laid a foundation,
Unto, an understanding of being
Purified and molded as gold through a furnace, casting out impurities to shine.
A temple within not built from
The teachings of doctrine of man.
That needs no light from candles,
For the glorious light of the promised
inheritance of the Holy Spirit.
Shall showcase the eternal flame.
Unto, the stairwell of life eternal
Everyday you pass her on the stairs
You’re not sure if she even cares
Or feels the same way you do
Gosh it hurts just lookin’ at you
Love rues yeah love rues
Does she feel the connection too
Or is it all in my mind as I’m passing by you
Then you catch my eye, and I turn my face
I’ll try again tomorrow, it's part of the chase
Love rues yeah love rues
The smell of humidor
Charmed the old house and
Frightened me as I ascended the
Narrow stairwell that gentle
October morning.
The song of autumn was playing
Low, and with astute grace.
Silent, the royal smell wafted between Cuba
And Denmark,
Across fat rank grass of fecund roots.
I snuffled through fogs of earliness,
Webbed by clamping cold.
Cigars without smoke took over from the
Humidor and hugged my lungs.
Between us on a park bench.
A pizza box stays a crack open.
Inviting us for another one.
Even when the last slice is all we have.
We flip a coin, which rolls away into the grass.
The wind picks up and we grab the box to carry home.
In the fridge is where we put the slice.
We decided to eat chips and cookies instead.
The way friends do.
I got up at 2:00 am that night.
But she had already eaten it at 1:30.
Chuckling as I grabbed some cheese.
She is watching tv on the couch.
There are no dishes to do.
Which is nice.
So I go back to sleep.
I don’t know why I feel so hungry all the time.
We fought the other day, so she must have dissolved into nothing.
No one has done chores in weeks.
Peeking into her bedroom.
Which is just a closet under the stairwell.
I thought she lived there.
But the spider shook his head.
Getting dizzy.
I need to eat.
Opening the fridge.
A week old pizza slice.
I think I need to do some chores.
In my one bedroom apartment.
Where I try to live.
A Child Clings
Frail, petite frame, gingerbread hair,
Watchful, determined,
You climb the darkened stairwell,
Enter the room large with space for one so small.
A cotton nightie, comfort,
Blanketed in heat,
You lie down.
Footsteps in the hall,
Eyes and ears vigilant,
A breath of hope, the closing of a door,
Forgotten goodnight kisses.
Alone, shivering in the dark,
Anxious fingers reach, the ritual begins,
White beads of plastic on string, holy cross.
Fingers clasp the tiny rosary beads.
Prayer, Our Father, Hail Mary,
Around the circle never broken,
Again, and again and again.
Eyes heavy,
Breath shallow,
You rest.
Abandoned no more.
I miss you Michael a really great friend
When I dropped by your flat you got me high
Gave me game DVD’s to the end
Brain cancer killed you, so sorry good bye
You were on a morphine drip to kill pain
Shocking to see the way you were in bed
My visit to you was not done in vain
Drained of life,I was shocked, you did look dead
Alan you were a great friend to the end
You were great at doing air brush art too
You are Freewheeling Franklin -I commend
He died falling down a stairwell it’s true
The cold stairs,
the cold, hard, stairs,
the cold, hard concrete stairs,
the cold, hard, concrete, piss-stained stairs.
He climbs,
climbs to the stars, the cold, hard stars,
climbs to the starlight
that glitters in his black eyes.
.
Thighs walk up a spine.
Upwards, bootlaces tugging a brain.
,
Head dizzy, legs stretched up
into a light-bulb head,
tortured tendons
trembling elastic bands.
He leans his cold, wet forehead,
on a locked, wet, metal door,
his body is bent like a question mark.
He sees distant glimmers,
glimmers of starlight,
starlight
down,
way down in the cold, black stairwell.
I pushed at the open door
no sound
just darkness inside.
Dust filtered my
nostrils,
a mustiness of lost years
inhabited my senses.
A loose floorboard
creaked in the stairwell,
the aroma
of her Chanel provoked memories
of my
living hell.
A tear of self-pity congealed
in the dirt at my feet
I switched on the light
"Hello son
I knew you'd be back;
He's gone..."
Faerie was sad that she had lost hope.
It was on the couch cushion last night, she thought.
This is crazy. Is she kind of a dope?
This was said by a stuffed cat, store bought.
Hope was on the stairwell this morning the puppy barked.
Faerie found a giant caterpillar curled on the top step.
Hope left an hour ago, he said. His dance ticket marked.
I didn’t know he had a ticket she said, keeping up with pep.
Sure, hope always has a ticket, a goal, a thing-a-ma-jig.
Faerie began to smile at the caterpillar boy.
I knew that said Poinmeister, the puppy’s pot belly pig.
Hope slid back in and gave her back her joy.
He pushed at the open door
no sound
just darkness inside.
Dust filtered his
nostrils,
a mustiness of lost years
inhabited his senses.
A loose floorboard
creaked in the stairwell,
the aroma
of her Chanel provoked memories
of his
living hell.
A tear of self-pity congealed
in the dirt at his feet
He switched on the light
"Hello son
I knew you'd be back;
He's gone..."
I pushed at the open door
no sound
just darkness inside.
Dust filtered my
nostrils,
a mustiness of lost years
inhabited my senses.
A loose floorboard
creaked in the stairwell,
the aroma
of her Chanel provoked memories
of my
living hell.
A tear of self-pity congealed
in the dirt at my feet
I switched on the light
"Hello son
I knew you'd be back;
He's gone..."
1.ENTERED IN 'Chaptor ' 1 Matt Calari Nov 1 2022
2. entered in Constance la France ' Writing Challenge - X'd Poems Second Chance' Contest Dec 5 2022
I knew you were gone.
In the startled-now of a wide-eyed night---I knew,
though you were beside me all along,
I sensed.
A cloying doubt,
a premonition of you missing
fastened tender gums to my pulse.
I knew we would no longer
teach flesh to speak,
knew down and deep
even though that thought
struck me dumb.
A space opened, I saw it
from the bottom of a dark stairwell.
I saw you leaving in the closing evening
of a memory.
I remember when my mother died
I held the phone away from my ear
listening to the nurse run through
her rehearsed lines,
and I feeling a strained tendon
finally snapping. I knew then
that 'gone' meant gone away
to a place where hands are
blind owls.
Now laying here in the dark,
god knows how many years away
from our last touch
I know my `once upon a time'
has again stepped through a door
in my mind
that always leads to nowhere.
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