if I turn left
i end up near my dead mother
she has a green mound
but there are lots of green mounds
there’s a street map in a fisherman’s pocket
a splashing sea has soaked its print
signs and roads melt
it could be Atlantis, or maybe
a bus route for north London.
mind-mice remodel the big picture
details defy interpretation until lost
appearance and disappearances
wash each other into new way signs
places once left
become a cardboard box in Baltimore
a cement maze in Ulan Batur
watermarks of places never seen
until you hold them up to the light
and embossed upon memory
is just another road to nowhere
Categories:
watermarks, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Each word I place
is cupped in my hands,
till the page unfolds
to accept my offering
in the stain of each letter
is the blood of my tears
and my sorrowful fears
magnificent in love
and joyful bliss
arias of evermore
ripple to watermark
as each curve
embossed into form
it came to life,
smarting with the etching
but ever ecstatic
in the release
And,
with the closing
of my book
lines will be straight
the backs bound
in titanium
standing for all time
Categories:
watermarks, on writing and words,
Form: Blank verse
There is no need for her to speak
of how she fell from glory.
Watermarks stain her cheeks
and tell her bitter story.
Her betrayal begins in the plateaus
of her weak and swollen eyes.
As her love for him began to grow,
he detained her with his lies.
Follow the grooves to the mark
that was painted on at birth.
She felt her life was truly stark
before he stole her worth.
Devalued she quickly became,
as is apparent beside her mole.
She did not sense his acid rain
that flooded her poor soul.
Her heart was not enough to give.
Love transformed into fear.
Devoured by pain, each day she lives
with scars carved by her tears.
Categories:
watermarks, angst, confusion, lost love,
Form: Rhyme