∞ Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo). Today’s prompt: Day Nine: write a “concrete” poem – a poem in which the lines and words are organized to take a shape that reflects in some way the theme of the poem. 30 Poems in 30 Days All text and photography ©…
Paradise
Spring is a strange land when our friends are ill With Us, ’tis Harvest all the Year If grief — the largest part — My Paradise — the fame But just the Summer knows Think of it Lover! I and Thee I’ll be contented — so — When I am occupied — I have so…
Running
Desérables I covet thee desire the tree tap it and drain it catch it gather it amount it and boil it into the blood of my blood. It is the spring its temperatures bring release as your veins swell your sugar melts into buckets of sticky sexy sap. Paper crêpes a superhero cape candied bacon…
Alpha Omega
Sprung from primordial tears walk hairless nudes single animals, loneliness is pregnant with desire in a garden verdant with uneaten promise before our helpless humanity erupts where revelers cavort flesh upon flesh animal lust sins envy a dream of broken song lost in a paradise sticky with fruit of the loin bursting with fowl fertilizing…
Descent
Emptiness is a staircase a shell enters the snail slowly we descend our soles slippery retracing steel treads listening to the darkness cold upon our eyes a moment in Girona a photograph remembers our ascent along Roman walls I still close my eyes and taste the metallic clang of Sant Doménec’s bells — it’s noon,…
Light in Dark
“Let me go!” and I run into the shadow my feet licked by the darkness of the entrance I run from fear a present that tears at my covers pries the dusk from my eyelids it breathes upon my lobe whispers into my night “Fear not” and my pulse is buried in pillow I claw…
Twisted Sky
White wide weight on height Wire my camera does wear Twisted, tested, trusted outwitted Statue stitched, stacked upon a stack, my stance beneath Blue, my eyes bloom, boredom, blah, I blew it Sky paints my psyche, a sockeye spawns Light — bright loot lites truth from lies Barbed war wound, St Peter’s gate is barred…
Outdoors
I’m carried — we’re carried, nine of us, one by one — in a nurturing arm 13 and half paces from front door to a wrap-around porch from four weeks, three days and a piece of remnant carpet and the 2×6 walls of fir the box of our birth to a confined space of black…
Whence
I am love hard toiled and sown tender and fresh I’m cultivated made of spring made for harvest dirty and raw I’m a mystery simply made spicy hot a culinary adventure I’m of this earth nourished by attention craving isolation I’m a moment a hope I’m a seedling a promise I’m garden a possibility in…