Muddy boots track back into a 'boot room'
treading ooze onto newspapers.
Shake the coat out,
duck-walk past the coatrack
wool socks smothering damp toes,
think of toweling off.
First shake the muddy mouse-eyes
out of your minds empty nest.
Second, rinse the sweat
out of used thoughts.
After you closed the outer door
the house still swayed over your head
as you breathed
in and out of over-heated lungs.
Scrambling eggs;
whisk the white and yellow in a green bowl,
add salt - lots.
Too late to remember,
but you wash hands anyway,
Under the roof of an open mouth
your tongue still walks on.
It was just one more morning hike
around a rain-shrunk world.
Cursive Consolations
David J Walker
Heartlessly pressing words into wine
Our feet are blood red from the crushing
Our heads flowing in faint rhymes
Into dry riverbeds genially growing
An ocean of poetry waiting
Waves bathe the salted bathers
On white beaches lying
Side by side naked in the sand
Sunning themselves in the afternoon
Toweling themselves of pungent prose
After the sun rose the following morning
I remember the rhyme one will say to another
Who has fallen deep into a sleep of poetic meaning
Are you listening one says
No, I’m dreaming he replays as starfish cover his eyes
Creating cursive consolations
Methinks all antediluvian Love was
Whiter than snows atop higher tors;
And with more troth dudes did kiss
Purer maidens for pleasanter bliss.
I deem Art shortly after Noah’s Ark
To have been of better-spun spark;
And bards of far more sublime quill
Did indite with stouter metered skill.
Niftier lines which Columbus hymned,
On virgin voyages to terrains deemed
By soil-tilling mortals uninhabited yet;
Such ditties do dim both fear and fret.
Tighter Calvary Faith as Bunyans
Prisoners fell in Hades' vile plans,
Wet-toweling martyrs' spirits bold,
Felt saltier with truer saints of old.
Daintier Oratory and Polemics alike
Did with indeed finer Lincolns spike;
Notches less finessed minions today,
Such steadily sorrier contrasts betray.
Happy; as MALALA back to School,
Toweling our Tuesday Tears.
* * * * * *
In the name GULMAKAYI.......
The valley of Maize flowers
Activism she got fromfather
Who namedher after MALAYI
Banning music, movies & schooling;
Filled her pen in blood for blog.
Giving “BLOWS TO CANNONS” she blogged
Gone was the sleepof BLACK-THALIBAN.
* * * * * *
On a Tuesday back from school;
Dreaming peace in Swath Valley,
Giggling with friends in bus
Heard theshout “Who is MALALA?”
Rushing, screaming, the bus was blocked;
Shot the little princess and friends,
Fading flowers from dreams they fell;
Turning ‘Swath’ in mourning red.
* * * * * *
Tubes and wires as necklaces.....
She lay in bed ofWORLD’S LOVE
Doctors, surgeries, medicines and prayers;
Blessed us to hear her again
* * * * * *
Oh God! give the courage of MALALA;
To every ‘blossom bud’ of world,
To fight and win against the GUNS
Turning our world a HEAVEN.
Arising from warm watered womb
To stand in steamy bathroom
Toweling dry before fogged glass
A moving smoky faint mirage
The cool Fall day is warm at last
Donning sweat shirt extra large
Picking up the empty cup
That held hot and gingered tea
He’d sipped while laying down
The pocket door slid open wide
Reborn again he stepped outside
Refreshed alert unwound