Breaking Horses

You are getting closer.
I hear the crunch of sand
and the skitter of stones beneath your
boots. The scent of tanned leather stings
my nostrils and fingers of steel butterflies
inflict fresh flesh wounds.
Your feathered crop gently brushes my shivering
shoulders, it floats over proud bones luring me
to the killing fields.
With no where to hide nothing can save me.
You have always known how to break wild horses.

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Wild Geese and Gilded Rivers – Holly Rene Hunter

Thank you so much Kristiana and FVR.

FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

This is a day of sun kissed

stones and blustery winds,

of wild geese adorning river banks

their graceful necks and gilded feathers

remind me that I am nothing more than

an  observer  to that enchanted world.

Graceful  limbs of oak reach across

slanted waves to weightless clouds

passing by.

Dipping my fingers into green and amber

circlets I hold my reflection in cupped palms.


Copyright Holly Rene Hunter

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

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A Winged Bird

I can scarcely bear the splendor of the world.

It’s wonder humbles the wisp that is me.

Minutiae of eyes and speechless tongue

astounded by the promise of a sunrise.

Elegant trees lift their mottled arms

flecked with leaves of gold and green

an ancient cache of living things

To be a winged bearer of no possessions

a flicker of color in the highest tree.

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awakened

birds shelter  in my throat settle softly into a warm berth inert until they are shaken.
Awakened  they beat their wings against fiery walls, tumbling from  a Kafkaesque mind biting ears with teeth  like blades piercing the heart with unsheathed talons.
What is sacred they swallow.

Karol-Bak-2

art by Karol Bak

Resa and the Rock Star – night music

House of Heart

 

 

 

Remember back when you were a rock star

and I was a hippie angel?

How enchanted  we were with  our

heart  and souls bared.

Do you remember now that you are so far

away that night  you came to me

and I came to you and the rest of the world

slipped away?

We held one another,  made love and cried

and vowed to never to speak of how every time

the lights went out you hurried to my side

so tender, coming and then  going.

Young and in love, we named that month Eden.

Do you remember our anguished goodbye

Neither do I.

 

Resa and the Rock Star

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Dedicated to Resa @ https://artgowns.com

 

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the twilight hours

I feel you in the pouring rain

violent or soft as a summer storm.

A distant star you appear only to fade

into the night from which you came.

Decaying gardenias fill my room with mortality

a treacly specter of  memories.

Wounded hearts are slow to heal

I have become indifferent to pain.

We are a wasteland,  all poetic breath died with us.

I long for the scent of earth infused with deep roots

the soothing sounds of chimes swaying from the

limb of a live oak,  soothing sounds for the twilight hours.

Image result for paintings of dying gardenias

 

The Sea Wall

Scattered and exposed

beneath the rolling waves

I am sand surrendering to

the pull of the rolling tide

with no where to hide the

towering waves sweep me

up into the mouth of the beast

who is too weak to hold me

and I am  swallowed by the sea.

 

You are the seawall

a granite buffer between

land and ocean

Hardened with obligation

you stand your ground

when lightning strikes and

breakers crash  you do not

back down.

In your stony silence you

are not afraid and that is

the disparity in you and I.

 

 

Primitive

 Across a velvet backdrop
stars hang like crystals
strewn across the heavens
softly glowing lanterns
encircling tiny tealights
that wax and wane with
the out breath of sighs
dislodged they plummet
a streaking spectrum
in  the heavens
to vanish over mountains
plunge in to the sea
or diffidently fade into
a dark horizon
we are like the ocean
ebbing and flowing,
tumbling waves of unrest
altering course or still
as tide pools
hostage to the moon
until the heat of night
inflames our primal hearts
come out, ignite, be the fire.

 

 

 

WordsforHer3-Karol-Bak

art by Karol Bak

Send me a sign

 Pristine  as the south seas

Those eyes of blue green 

An angel without wings

I sent you a message

did  it  drift out to sea

I’ m watching  I’m waiting 

On the other side 

send me a sign

 

 

 

 

Islamorada

This morning  I threw wide
that carved door of souvenirs.
The scent of sandal wood
filled the air and  missing
you was a stone bruise.
Tonight  I will walk down
to the shore,  that galaxy
of pearls and tumbling  waves
of frothy champagne.
The mangroves are filled with
flickers and blooms and the
sky glimmers with silvery mirth.
I could stay here until Spring among
the  honey cake dunes and not think
of you at all.

 

renesoto

google art