An Idea by night:
you are the nondescript
feeling between the grooves of the air
and my body,
the moon swelling in my stomach
and I have wings.
I try to write you
and you gather bones
just to crumble again,
the backsides of letters
and straight line reality
of form and material--
withering in a strand of syntax.
you are the sun again
running your fingers across my bedpost,
the back of a chair--
as if tracing the contours of a place
you half remember.
You have knotted me with joints,
I too crumble.
Mural In The GlassFall once fell in colors here,Mural In The Glass7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you could hear the rust whistle
merry go rounds
still swinging from the hurried departure.
But they are sounds of another time.
is lost in the grey
as rain falls
a heavy patter, a baby's bare feet tapping--
I see the mud tracks fade on the kitchen floor.
I hear the door close in its hinges.
was once uncreased;
among gnawed pencils--
an attention deficit.
Later, the folds of my lids sunk deeper,
dusted with charcoal;
a sophisticated gaze hung on a wrist
In Search of an Old RecipeDown a wintry lane, where streetlampsIn Search of an Old Recipe9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rise from dimly lit snow hills and the
town is lightly covered in frost,
I pass an old neighbors house and
a village café. The gurgling noises
of a brewing pot and the sugary smells
of rising dough
always met with long conversations
or quiet contemplations, an old friend
or a new friend and a hint of the past.
Something that started the day and
ended the day with company and
a dash of hope
that time can always be paused
and people can always gather.
And behind the rising steam of
tightly gripped mugs, you can always
find laughter, stirring its warmth around
tables as we reminisce.
And sugar is sprinkled over cookies
and pastries the way snow is over the world.
And no matter how far away,
I can always make it home
on nothing more than a memory.
Perhaps these are the ingredients to make peace,
down wintry lanes, where feuds are blanketed
and grudges melt away into cups of coffee.
ShadowsShadows10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Their lullaby is the guttered water
falling into sewer drains;
Their fragmented dreams are
of tumbling leaves and taillights,
disappearing into the nighttime hues.
They wake to the stampede of suits and briefcases,
Their blankets have blown away.
Drifting in the wind with yesterday's news.
Chapel WindowThe parish waits nowChapel Window2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls;
cobwebs align them
like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in a broken window,
gather in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic.
There is a cemetery,
my eyes seek out the sermon,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as rays fall from a cloud,
shear the shade,
heave a new flame to the candle box,
and measure the weight in these empty rows
as pools find where hands still clasp,
but dare not go further
like a visible hush.
Forever NightShe didn't look back, she couldn't bear to. Back there, there was too much pain, and hurt and hate. No, instead she looked forward, but there was nothing there either, just an endless stretch of road, ribboning on forever into the distance. Infront of her was her future, behind her, her past; she was torn between two worlds. But she couldn't go back, not now she knew what she did. She took one step out onto the road, out of the safety of the light, into the darkness and cold. The light behind her flickered out and the night engulfed her. She felt a breeze blow her hair, as if taunting her, reminding her of what she'd done. A scream sounded and she panicked stumbling along the road before tripping and falling. As she lay there she cried and an owl screeched, mocking her and shattering the void of silence. It was only now, as she struggled to find her footing, did she realise that the scream she heard was hers. Again, reminding her that she was truly alone with darkness as her only frienForever Night11 years ago in Mystery & Suspense More Like This
HurakanThe television hisses in and out of consciousness, warningHurakan8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the impending flood. We make ourselves safer still.
We hear him coming from many hundred kilometres
away in the distance, a deafening, thunderous boom
as the wind thrashes like serpents against
our thin windows and dark, glass mirrors.
He enters the room and turns
a full circle three times, showing
how well he is managing
with one leg still intact.
His voice roars as
loud as a tropical
storm whilst he
chants the words:
ScrutinyAnd when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,Scrutiny7 years ago in Open More Like This
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
~ T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
I am going through the keyless gate
to watch and wait,
to wander here and there among the proud,
among the white and old whose wisdom rots, repressed, untold:
the soporific royals wreathed in leaves of gold.
And to them I shall read aloud from the Book,
read of the sins their lips have took
and upon me they shall look and patiently reflect
I am lost in my own depth, I will say
in a slight, impartial way
(for I lack violets and an antic princes love)
and they, floating through their channels deep
dare to drown me in my sleep and in their orisons remember
So shall I be a queen bone and ash,
of crawling worms and sullied, melting flesh.
Kissed by death, I shall burn upon a pyre
knowing only distance and desire and, rising from the fire,
I shall step with soft, unfettered feet
Why the Willow WeepsToday I asked a willowWhy the Willow Weeps9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The reason why she wept.
She spoke to me so mournfully:
'I weep because he left.'
I listened while she told her tale,
Her branches bent in woe.
She'd been the oak tree's bride-to-be;
The lovers were betrothed.
Willow was so devoted,
She stood up straight and tall,
Had eyes for him and he for her,
'Til Birch Tree came to call.
She was so slim and clothed in white,
She caught the oak tree's eye.
He left his willow lass behind
With no decent 'goodbye.'
Her true love left but she is strong,
And so she did not die,
But rather bent her head in pain,
All out of tears to cry.
~Alex Cherrysnot~ All Rights Reserved
EscapeI'm trying to escape,Escape10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
trying to get away,
trying to ignore what they do,
forget about what they say.
No move I ever make,
can ever be one right,
every simple thing I say,
always starts a fight.
I'm sorry I'm not perfect,
the way I'm supposed to be,
the thing is your slowly killing me,
why can't you see?
I'd really like to run away,
where someone would understand,
to someone who could see my pain,
and gently take my hand.
In case of emergencyI saw the roots of prairie grassesIn case of emergency7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like carrion beetles in their yellowing shells
Nibbling angrily, at the concrete beneath my feet,
At wood sheared to fence posts near the road.
The very earth they rejected, drawing what peace they could.
When did stained glass become the standard?
I have forged narrow mountain paths and stumbled over
Bottle caps secreted between the mica flakes and quartz.
In this city, in the sectors most pregnant with age,
Trees testify shamelessly into the sky.
Clandestine, one coils his reach toward
A flimsy cable, twisted and strung precariously
From corpse to shabby corpse, on and on.
Graceful and altogether stoic, another refuses to wince
As the merciless force of a school bus violates its skirts.
All the monstrous lizards reduced to macabre exhibits,
I fault them for dying. With cold blooded savages
Of the biological nature, the world was better off.
Save the best for last is never the real philosophy.
Find me the soul that cares for what happens to its carca
take what you willhere,take what you will2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
press on my temples and watch
bronze turn to milk beneath your
wait until morning and ask me then
to walk on stones turned belly-up
by the breeze
barefoot, so that red beehives
pattern my feet.
push gilded grapes between my lips,
let your hands fold origami
over my throat to ease me
into someplace else:
hypnotism at its finest.
this side up.i am sending youthis side up.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
an empty box.
please fill it
with all fifteen
pieces of my heart.
and i expect
all fifteen pieces.
i am sending you
five-sixths a sheet of paper.
on which i pretended to write
a letter about how i am not
a porcelain doll
that you may play with
whenever you please.
[and throw in the closet
whenever you don't.]
i am sending you
your kiss stains.
it took three bars of soap
and five hours
to scrub them all off
i am sending you
salvaged from the bridges
that i burned.
if you squint, it looks like
a pair of lips rolled around
the words "fuck you."
i am sending you
every song that reminds me
Do Not Fly AwayDo not fly awayDo Not Fly Away7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
this night before the moonrise
touches your soft hair,
spread out there behind your head,
a cascade of ebony.
Do not fly away
this night before the dawning,
and I get to see
the sunrise of your bright eyes
looking warm in the daylight.
Do not fly away
this night before returning
to hold me closely,
wrapping me in your warm arms
where I may find rest at last.
Do not fly away
this night at all, but stay here,
pillowed next to me,
whispering a lovers words
as the morning wakes us up.
CirclesCirclesCircles6 years ago in Open More Like This
Watch the circles
as the water falls
drop by drop
into the pool
giving birth to circular ripples
and occasionally, if theyre lucky
ring true for awhile.
as the storm ends,
into the smooth flat water.
I would walk across that placid surface,
merge myself into that peace,
but the very act
across the very peace I crave.
Can I become one
with that stillness,
merge into the calm,
or will my very doing
disrupt the dream.
-she seeks solace-1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
from the crevices of her mind
because it's the only place
where innocence still remains;
and it is the only place
where she can think
without the corruption of the world plaguing her mind.
All His Milestones On FilmAll His Milestones On FilmAll His Milestones On Film7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Starring Sanjay Dutt as Sand and Shadow
Ta-da: his childhood came unwrapped
like his mothers parcel at the boarding school
set in hills far north of Dehli.
It has to be said he was brilliantly packaged
- in silver and stretched,
a song on religious ecstasy
played with a spoon on foil,
The projector's pur
grew coarser with each flicker.
In this cage, every feature
is a première to her, every detail
apprehended for the first time
Soot came up when the silk was torn,
up from thirteen streets in Bombay,
up like the sand when child's castle
is kicked down.
He became a creeping figure,
a shadow, a smudge,
grit on the reel.
If only she could restore him,
replace each shell on the battlements
but no. The boy is spread on celluloid like a sand angel.
Dust and a pistol are all his remains.
And in truth, she is dust,
billowing between frames.
'Best Friend'You left me here,'Best Friend'9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
alone in the cold.
I can almost see the wind blow.
It brings back memories,
memories of you.
The way you used to smile,
you know, back we were two.
three musketeers minus one, "best friends".
The warth of your hug,
and those silly jokes you told,
while trying to cheer me up, force one smile out of me.
I opened up to you, telling you everything.
& now thinking back I realize...
you told me nothing.
Nothing worth knowing, anyway.
Whatever happened? Did you just get bored?
I'm not always cheery, not always interesting,
but I thought best friends was more than that.
Maybe I was too eager,
eager to believe I finally had someone,
some to call my best friend.
you were the closest to it,
almost the closest I'd ever had.
now you're just every other "friend" in the hallway.
The woman with the garish...The slugs chewed jagged crownsThe woman with the garish...5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
out of brand new ecru tulips,
and the rain filled them up
until they drooped,
made lazy by the weather.
But Spring blew smoke
like the woman on the park bench
smoking a Pall Mall
and whispering into a black cell phone,
her bright red boots toe-deep in water.
Her umbrella, spine flicking drops
into the flower beds,
yet to bloom,
made the park look gothic
But when she left,
her breath steam
against the air,
boot heels clicking
against the stone
The flowers peered up,
Blinking against the rain.
AngelicaAngelica (My Final Prayer)Angelica11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Darling jaded Angelica, can you hear me call?
Can you hear me from heaven; can you hear at all?
Is the sky blue life up there treating you so kind?
Sometimes I wish to join you and leave this world behind.
Oh Angelica, you cried so much before you had to leave
Was dying really the only way to save your sanity?
Angelica you'd died of a heartbreak I'll never understand.
You were already dead inside, though I was there to hold your hand.
Oh my stained Angelica, with your tainted soul,
Have angels bathed you tenderly and filled your growing hole?
In heaven do emotional wounds show like cuts then bleed?
And is anyone up there giving you the bandages you need?
Have they wiped the dirt of heartbreak yet so far away?
Are you beautiful again my love? Can you stay that way?
Has heaven purified you so that you'll never hurt again?
Is it really a new beginning, or…is it just the end?
Angelica, do you miss me, up in the sky so free?
When it rains down on the earth, is tha
-you sometimes f o r g e t-1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
who you really are
beneath the facade
— — because it is too painful
to acknowledge your sins.
OverTell me,Over4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Are you lonely ?
Lost within such a Labyrinthine heart,
Ruling from somewhere up so high,
Glaring down at me with those eyes
There you stand,
So opaque and obscure
With all the little pieces of us,
Twinkling in the distance,
Cannot fill the spaces between
Those that separate our hearts.
And I can't even say your name,
I wish I could just tell you
Someday I will find the strength
To say these words to you
What are you really playing at?
Flawless BelovedSo many people, swimming in a sea of facesFlawless Beloved4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And you were once lost to me...
Though I'd searched, the place was never right
Timing was off just by a few minutes,
Moments slip like grains of sand
Falling down the hourglass of my heart...
From the moment I first saw you,
I know it sounds much too bold
But I knew you'd follow me home
From there, knew one day you'd be mine
To have and to hold,
Someone who compliments me perfectly,
Going hand in hand with my own ways
And so flawlessly intuned with my soul...
For so long I had wondered
Why there was so much darkness within me,
Why I was surrounded by it
Why it consumed me so completely...
But most of all, I wondered why...
It felt like I was missing half of myself,
Like I was incomplete
And without you, I am.
Without you, there can only be dark
There is no light,
And I know it's cliche' but...
You will always be my light
Even in all of this darkness.
Two halves of one shell
Drawn to one another
From across vast distances,
I HideAll that I am and all that I doI Hide4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is riddled with pure destruction,
Laced with toxic cyanide;
Never to be touched by mortal hands.
Can you buy a simple soul from me?
No, what I know is not for sale,
And even in your dreams
You could never see anything so pure.
Always saying things like
No, never, broken, so damaged;
Eternal, forever, always, so permanent,
And nothing can ever repair it.
You've stolen such things from me
That cannot be spoken of,
And yet I still must go on knowing
The true source of all this despair
My entire world is dying all around me,
And all I can do is watch the embers burn;
White hot, like the deadly pure magic
Which I am no longer to use.
Addicted to you and all of your charm
Not because of who you are
Or because you treat me well,
But because you cause me pain.
I've always been in love with pain,
Ashen cinders burning to a black death
Always wanting, but never feeling more;
At least I can feel you now
You're the only one in all the world
Who has the p
Conversations with an old poetHe is grey-whiskered furniture, a pub fixture;Conversations with an old poet8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
akin to the ashtrays and rickety seats
frequently occupied by bickering students.
'What is poetry?' they asked him one inebriated evening.
He thinks back to some long, hazy hour
when a glass of bourbon sought its six brothers
and a vast expanse of blank paper confronted him.
'There is purity here,' he mused,
'it would be barbaric to taint this beauty
with crude splotches and scribbles of ink.
Far better to leave it clean.'
The bourbon gave him a clarity of thought:
the unmarked parchment was perfection,
a masterpiece of condensed meaning;
a post-modern wet-dream of unfettered potential.
'What is poetry?'
He emptied a thoughtful pint
and then, with reverence, placed before them
a pristine page from his notebook.