How often do I hide in thick layers
of parading masks-- afraid to reveal
the hardened arrogance which denies
a vanity ruled by a sordid season -
those matriarchal flaws , cracks from
transgressions, and lesions of anger
over time's unhealed grievances.
I smile with resistance existing
through fragile acquaintances
to escape light's awakening
that could lead me out of life's pretenses.
So I hover drearily on bloodied nights
and run into the woods searching
for sages even wise thieves ,
who could offer me refuge
from this marrow sinking into
a litany of dirges, of love's requiem:
i must have grown dumb; I cannot
hear these hibuscus hymns...not even
tumbles of the song my soul never
seeks could assuage all my snuffed evenings...
How this darkened mind lies
upon his leaving... still,
vagrant psalms from a bitter farewell
bang like a shrieking gong...without end
Writing is a lonely life
Husbands hardly miss their wives
Children tiptoe past your chair
Do you even know they’re there
Seasons pass Winter, Spring
Summer leaves on a wing
Step outside in Fall, do not stumble
Another page in life’s book tumbles
Put down that pen
Make room for a friend
All your ‘gems’ without one
have neither purpose nor end
I stand on the shore.
Sand tumbles upward
through my hair and the
wind cradles me like a cast.
I crane my neck and follow
the breath, impossible angles
forming along the faults
in my spine,
and gaze at the sky.
Fireflies dance there
in that impossible black
and they touch the sand
and it is glass.
I open my hands to catch them
but nothing ever comes.
They swell with radiance,
and smile as they float away.
Eruption of words
Spills on furious spark of night
Entanglement unsettled-
Dawn tumbles on edge
A falling of union breaks
From hardened hearts of stone.
Where the motorcycles were parked and the shots rang
Where my young lover lay, face cold and awful pale
Where I laid him in his coffin, the smog mugged me of breath
Where the hail from the black clouds came faster than tears
Where molds grew their families right where I lost mine
Where the saga ended itself, but the smoke wouldn't go
When I spoke on his behalf to the scowling Justice
When the raven cloud formed right above my scalp
When his killer left shackeless, blood still on his hands
When the single cloud formed a bowl of twists and tumbles
When a black cloud ripped me of my skin, my heart, my mind
When I gripped his remains, hands tight like bolts, and began to whisper:
"Embrace the void."
A Pit for the Toxic
Let’s pray for a bottomless pit,
A hollowed space in the heart of hell,
Where we can toss the toxic soul
Who rang my spirit like a funeral bell.
I remember the weight of her evilness,
The way she turned my world to grey;
She brought my spirit to a sudden end,
A debt I know she’ll never pay.
I cannot forget, I won’t forgive,
One silent push, I won’t speak his/her name
I’ll watch her as he/she tumbles in.
It’s just the final straw
So let us pray and push together.
Let’s pray for a bottomless pit
Imagine deep down hell
Where we can toss our toxic friend
Who would bare her heart of evilness
Who even now I remember
Making my life misery
Who brought my spirit to an end
I cannot forget, I won’t forgive
But hope he/she tumbles in
One big push but wont mention her/his name
Let’s pray and let’s push together.
The tools to let it flow,
salt is good for healing.
Breezes carry the sea
swirling around my waist,
what the water gave me.
The tools to let it flow,
take a more placid pace.
Sweet determination
is brought to a hot boil,
rolling with such passion.
The tools to let it flow,
truce tumbles in and out.
Tension can go sky high,
sometimes the answer is
to let things slide right by.
The tools to let it flow,
smooth the craggy edges.
To control this temper?
I can go off and walk,
bringing me to center.
Charlieku 4-28-26
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
flower fandango - CM
rowdy clouds jive
gusty winds drive ~
tulips two-step
raindrops rumble
thunder tumbles ~
bluebells boogie
tempest flash dance
showers bluster ~
sweet peas swing dance
phlox fandangos
wild spring tangos~
rainbow bouquets
Hot peppermint tea
tumbles into my thin cup.
Scent focuses work.
Black like the night,
he soars and tumbles,
an acrobat in flight.
Keen is his sight, and he’s
a playful mimic.
This bird is bright!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peep-peep, yellow fluff tumbles from eggshell— spring's first exclamation point!
Last year we planned a new kitchen
And went to the glossy showroom.
There were choices many,
But not flustered,
I was keen on slate grey and mustard.
The man too had a vision
Cupboards new, clean finish.
Then he spoke of the washing machine;
“I think they look best integrated,
Hidden behind closed doors.”
It made me pause…
White goods, classified
Too unclean to be seen.
As if in shame of her duties mundane.
Our domestic goddess,
Taken for granted.
Her duties -
Fed weekly and meekly
She takes on full loads,
Tumbles and turns,
Delivers, and births us clean clothes.
I knew how I loved her.
I chose not to hide her.
And she stands there,
Proudly on view.
Integral, dependable,
She’s a giver of time.
Present.
A curly corded telephone rings in a distant room,
its black Bakelite bulk vibrates behind closed eyes.
An old-time fire-engine parks its flame and brass chassis
inside a cavernous skull, though no conflagration
sets the dark alight.
It is that shallow pit of night when faceless clocks
expose themselves to be landmines.
A far past is calling; disembodied tongues drum loud
in an echoing ear.
A cumbersome receiver tumbles off its cradle
an accumulated dust of misappropriated yesterday’s
softens its fall.
Nothing has grasped at nothing.
A line is dead and buried; there's no resurrection,
the call however lingers, as a voice dissolve's
deep within the combustible light
of another day.
* a quote from the movie, THE EDGE
A grave that all my tears streamed out,
Now air only darkens the ground —
What's left above me, to breathe, but
Into her, I am falling down —
Her haunting still aways the hush,
Gone now, any beloved's touch —
I am buried beneath her corpse,
This frozen hold always too much
More than wind in you I cry for —
I grieve my heart no longer yours.
The mound tumbles within the lies.
I grieve your heart no longer yours.
This darkness that even mars night,
The new or the old skin inside
the bloodletting of meeting gaze
You have to get better to die.*
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.