Unfluffed, unearthed and uncrated my eyes just will not sleep
beneath a dome of dark this heart is mulling over way too deep
Unfettered, unbolted and unrestrained I float to heaven's nook
to watch the stars shine brightly as a summer's bubbling brook
Surely sounded and surmised I suddenly close my eyes and pray
Like moon asleep by midnight hour I have nothing left to say
Sedentary, secluded and seated at the desk, I write a poem true
about the way I feel tonight, and Oh ! how much I'm missing you
Tried and tested I trod towards, ... knowing even gold can't stay
like stars of night after spreading light even them must go away
Feeling thankful for the times we had I know that love endures
Feeling floored at the font of loss I know there is no simple cure
for this....
I placed my glass down on the table
next to the leg, curiously laid
upon its heavy, wine-stained surface.
A perfectly fine leg, I noted;
unbolted, removed with some intent.
My host viewed my curiosity
with a casual indifference;
waiting so painfully patiently;
a child, bursting with a sworn secret.
As the evening took its course, more wine
long, dry, wearying conversation,
side-stepping the leg, on the table,
a sly, knowing smirk tainted his face,
an air of superiority.
I became a fly caught in his web
missing the clever trap he had laid.
The professor, much later replaced
the fourth leg of the coffee table.
The several fine Kafka volumes,
earlier, supporting the table,
then restored to their place on the shelf.
Autumns red dusk falls,
laborers leave their fields.
the day's last bell rings,
the hour comes 'round.
The cellar doors burst open,
the pantry doors unbolted,
the table is layed,
the gates of the hall swing wide.
The guests are met,
the feast is set.
Come join the feast,
join the banquet,
revel till the dark of night,
leave all your dread,
all your worries,
leave them outside the doors,
for tonight we live in a new world.
Mad Max and the Thunderdome
Matinee at the brand new cine
money for tickets but little else
Indeed we had not any
my purse the repository
Each a burger and coke
finding the theater empty
Look it's ours,in union spoke
Finding a tier of few chairs
Simultaneously we plopped
Only to find them unbolted to floor
As our secreted foodstuffs we dropped
Onions flagrantly scenting the air
Our toes to the ceiling
Without any flair
cans of coke rolling away without care
Hurriedly jumping to feet
Scrambling contraband to secrete
Cat back in the bag before usher arrived
Offering free popcorn, SAAWEET.
Venue for brooding over Death’s mischief
While equipped with handkerchief…
Tears misty eyes shall unlock
Already by heavy heart unbolted
Over Death’s wasting clock
And angering daring of the Lord’s Promoted!
A masonry of slabs and The marbled
For impassioned messages, not garbled,
On her tombstones displaying Christ’s cross
That should curb the cries over a loss
But also Gardens of Angelic Roses
That the Door of Agony intermittently closes.
In Africa, far from the widespread
And in her folktales rarely read.
In The Western World, vastly stationed
And in her novels as much mentioned.
Dreary noises vomits in the wee hours
Which ears at close range seldom misheard:
A wondrous assertion of eerie powers
And Whistled Evil by Ghostly Bird.
A world scarier and insecure at midnights,
As the Dead socialize and commercialize,
No longer under pressure to tighten their lips;
Their life- terminating fights have for the withdrawn lights
And hapless visiting humans paralyze
With their deadening whips.
Cemetery continues to entertain bones
From tents and thrones.
My remote ancestral house I left a long time ago,
keeps on flashing with longing on my memory canvas.
So, one summer on the faded trail of beckoning nostalgia
I trace the track of time to reach the decayed past.
The picturesque porch is now enmeshed by wild ferns,
I walk through slithering creepers to the unbolted door,
enter the dark dusty room abandoned for ages,
but still holding the wooden staircase in its place.
I climb up the creaking stairs to the master bedroom,
pierced by streaks of sun beam through the cleaved roof.
On the defaced wall hangs a framed photo of my father
with the last rosette my mother placed on his birthday.
I open the half-hinged window on the bushy backyard,
once a garden vibrant with spectrum of exotic flowers,
their colors, buried now under the debris of fallen leaves,
return with the melody of my youth, the breeze whispers.
July 16, 2020
Contest : Decaying House
Sponsor : Constance La France
For years it had flown through dim canyons,
hollows where the mute sheltered in echoing caves.
Poems shifted loose and gearless.
Words darted for cover as if caught
in an empty bell tower.
On tongue-chilled days it would croon inarticulately
as it sang beneath jawbone rafters.
Then one drunken night I felt it clearing its windpipes,
coaching a squeaky organ into yawps of utterance.
I can see it now, a raw unlovely thing,
a creature hammered through gurgling fissures,
grown stark with a transpiring clarity.
I would mislay it like a lost penny,
go crazy to find its untrod trail again,
then it would return like a tramp begging at my door.
I hear it knocking now – a homeless angel
eager to shed the next paltry revelation
in a foundling language.
No longer is it a chance sighting,
no longer a luminous flutter on dark walls;
it is red of lip,
a painted vowel in my unbolted mouth.
A mouth that now divulges,
and sometimes in a dull turning year
may say something worth transcribing
for the ears of other madmen.
He unbolted the locks
and untied my restraints,
which left painful bruises
and permanent marks.
I could barely gather up
the strength to stand up
and make it to the door.
Then when I tried my
legs gave out and I fell
right on to the floor.
As weak as a lamb
that can't hold the
weight of it's own wool.
He told me the shackles
I've worn were years ago
outgrown.
There is a new pair
somewhere that I must fit into.
I listened because being in
a cage was all I ever knew.
A pristine ambit
Unlocks forepart to commence
Restored life events
Ameriolate happenings
Metamorphose forever
The Unlocked Creaky Gate
The giant iron gate creaked
At the touch of my feverish hands.
Without permission
I unbolted the unlocked gate.
Sweaty forehead, numb hands,
Iced feet, my stomach tightened,
The palpitation of the heart
Grew loud and clear
Like a death knell echoing.
Strange isn't it?
Dragging my frozen torso
I walked on the grey cobbled pathway
Quickly turning round the shroudy hedge way,
Wondering what drew me here?
Trespassing into unguarded private property
Was not my forte.
De routing beyond the boundary of time,
Especially when I was hard pressed
With the temporal affairs,
Made me more nervy and jittery.
Which lesson of life was ahead
Before the daylight shut out of my eyes?
An invisible hand held my pain awhile.
The heart went back to its pocket,
Calmness transcended over the nerves,
The blood uncurled till the body warmed.
In a flash, without the blink of an eye,
Both hands lifted me off my herculean feet-
Since when had I become so light?-
Whispering,' I have your missing piece of heart'.
December20, 2015
Contest: Any Poem
Sponsor : Broken Wings
The cottage gate now stands ajar
Unbolted by wind and rain
And lonely pink roses growing apart
Reach to touch as in sweet refrain
Crisp silence rules both day and night
Uneasiness settles as my heart slowly sinks
For there's not a creature within sight
Seems, gone forever is the missing link
Although the grass grows lush and green
No man’s feet have beaten a path
No bushy tail squirrels are to be seen
Nor the discarded acorns left after a spat
The seasons flow throughout the years
And the mystery deepens still
I dare not speak to all my fears
Time has arrested this moment at will
~*~
7/30/'13
For: "Glimpses of Epiphany" Contest
By: Annalise
-
Falling like snowflakes
on webs of forgiveness
spinning through clouds
in the unbolted light
searching so softly
down dark Autumn pathways
hoping to find our way in the night.
Savoring rain on the bowers above us
thunder still rolls 'round the cusp of the dawn
out on the horizon we turn to remember
the loved and the lost
and the ones who go on.
We were so sure
we made the right choice
but we were young
and cares were so few
those who would guide us
have gone on before
and left us wondering what to do
God in his mercy
has shown us the way
as we pray to him each night
once we understood
it all seemed so simply
Just follow his love, in the
UNBOLTED LIGHT
Written with my niece, Johnette Loefgren
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