It is too soon
to prune but wilted petals
wave provocatively from
bowing gardens and here
among bent stems the sun is pleasing to my back and shoulders.
Pulpy worms are sweet to scavenging tongues of hungry birds
plucked without warning from spidery veins of leaves.
Elongated roots relentlessly war with nicked and bleeding fingers
tugging at reluctant stems. I know it it is too early but chaotic gardens
long for control once again.
There is a need for
lips pressed, the press
of hands seeking.
Here in my
straight back chair
hold back the firestorm
with elegant hands
and with your lips
claim the hollow
of my throat.
Scatter silk like
autumn leaves.
Allow me to fall
like the ripe flesh
of sweet fruit.
artist: Lu Jianjun
Waiting for you became a ritual,
listening for the sound of your footsteps
in the pounding rain.
The taste of salt still remains
upon my lips where you left it
and in dreams you are evoked
by the wings of seabirds where I have
pressed our memory.
At daybreak the tide retreats without
leaving you at my shore and it is
there I accept loss.
At the hollow of my throat I have etched
your name somehow declaring us sacred.
I’ve unfolded us like origami
Ripped apart our borders
Dissected the shadowed corners
of secrets, forced them into
the light to mourn like the hollow
bones of birds,
I have renamed us where every
memory is not an ache beneath my ribs
and every thought is not an assault on the dead.
My heart is the flush of peony
the color of healing scars.
Thank you Free Verse Revolution!
In the sweet summer
below the rusty fasteners of
an old swing I pump the air
with the spindly legs of childhood,
dream my wide eyed dreams of whirling
pathways to the beckoning sun.
My heart leaps at the sight of a brilliant
rainbow and with small fingers I reach up
to swathe its colors over a bluepalette sky.
Now I know about life,the real truth of it.
Now I know the swing is just freedom.
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You were a bright star
In the darkest sky
You were the red tulip
Among the garden's flowers
Every society or circle
Was proud to have you
It was not a surprise
Many were envious of you
They told lies and gossips
In every chance they had
They finally could succeed
In disgracing you anyway
All those liars and gossips
They were in my favour
I could prove myself as
The only honest lover
All other lovers of you
Judged by ears and eyes
I, in contrast to them
Used just my heart's eye
Ears and eyes on the head
Could sometimes be deceived
But who can see and hear
By heart, never gets lost
Beautiful poetry …
There is a walk I know, among the trees
How much you always loved the solitude
The dry, fallen leaves cracking beneath our feet
An overcast afternoon, fleeting warmth as the sun
Wove through the clouds overhead
The fall colors, which you couldn’t stop talking about
You always had a way of looking at things
As if for the first time
We’d sit there, beside the creek
Because there’s always a creek in my dreams
Sipping water, eating grapes, maybe strawberries
As you reach in your backpack
Surprise me with a chunk of banana bread
You made the night before, for our special day
A simple reminder, to never let go of these moments
Because for all the broken promises, things left unsaid
This is all that really matters in the end
A walk in the woods, sitting by a creek on a fall afternoon
Eating smashed banana bread with…
View original post 60 more words
Summer scatters her shades
in daring colors of red and green
asymmetrical patterns splayed
over fledgling birds taking wing
above silent fields and late blooms
of lilac the deep blush of peony
clinging to a bowing trellis.
A flicker of burnished feathers
dripping with dew flitting above
rolling wheat fields.
Bowed stalks laden with crusty leaves
tender stems beaten to the soil
in need of assurance
the promise of rebirth.
Kabegami Art
