Saturday, April 24, 2010

In Search of A Reason

The confines of the chiffon curtains
grow unbearable in the warm,
too warm for autumn, day.
They shimmer with light,
burnt orange, a wild dance
with morning.
Sounds echo beneath the cream canopy,
travel in strange patterns,
bounce off copper posts,
to create a unique tune.
Dense with the burdens
of yesterday, her crimson
thoughts merge with the opus;
creates a song stuck on replay.
She searches for stamina,
the strength to emerge
from the safety of her world,
to see past the indigo yesterdays,
find a reason to live,
to enjoy the gold’s
of today.

Going Forward

Toes burnt, curled
in different directions,
shredded by the coral sands;
the long twisting trail of crimson
indicates her struggle;
the effort exuded,
just to make it
this far.

Closing the Door

I slam the old cabinet door,
my frustration released.
It bounces back; blood
begins to drip from my lip.
A step back, a glower of menace;
I slam it again and again
until I force it into position.
Immediate satisfaction;
the contents remain unseen…
for now.

Her Secret Letter

The carpet, threadbare
shrouds the truth
concealed beneath.
Worn, creased yellow
read again and again,
a stain of her time.
Memories laze deep;
banned from speech,
kept from sight,
she hopes they will
once again fade
with the mornings light.

Ballroom 5

The sound is deafening…

The rhythm of conversation
floats throughout the packed room.
Laughter echoes alongside whispers;
everyone is talking at once.

The waltz of sociability
evident in the prominent posturing
mingles with various odors
fermented from so many bodies cramped together.

Elbows bump arms, hands cup derrieres,
mouths slip against ears; the naughty sweetness
of over imbibing spills forth.

Lust grows palpable -
virgins concede defeat;
rakes break from the unexpected
to search for the stable;
prudes turn toward passion
to forget their control.

Within, a part of, yet at a distance
I watch the theatrics alone…

even in a room such as this.

Glass Figurine

Her anguished mind descends
beneath an uncertain morning tide;
emotions shredded by the sheer
force of the undertow
are tossed haphazardly by waves
into unstable breakers.
She struggles against the pain,
gasps for breath, now left
battered upon the abandoned shore
grains of sand embed into her tattered
flesh to forge her into a fragile figure
ready to be shattered.


Helpless I do not know if good intentions prevail among the elected, among the appointed, leaving me apprehensive that the fate ...