With wings it flies
Up into the night
Currents and rain
To fight through
Gliding and striving
with every beat
not making very
much headway
Strength wears thin
Drive dies within
can’t go as high
as I thought I could
with wings.
Image by: NatureWorks (http://mrg.bz/tqQHY3)
millions of seconds
have passed
your face, your fingers
blessed this place
your breath, your light
too long excused
your scent, your feel
with no trace
remembering
I am graced
It came upon me in a rush
The lack of your form in my space
The blinking brakes of your tailgate
Signaling goodbye in morse code
The dust that settled in your wake
A song I never will unhear
A failure of
Mythic proportions
Epic forgiveness
Wrapped in a wrapper
Of cellophane
A heart shaped box
And a pair of lying eyes
That I never could resist
It’s seagreen, the glasseye
I avoid its crystalline glare
Above is a portrait of mermaids
Amid a green smog
I glance around and wonder
How much the rent is.
heaven does not wait for us
the souls who are not souls
she is not allowed her arms
to wrap us in her embrace
the sky so bright can only
be alight with stars of us
to twist and toil, cook and spoil
upon our earthly plane.
So I challenged myself to go to Oneword.com and write a short poem in 60 seconds using whatever word popped up. I was stunned for a moment when ‘ski’ was my word. But I think it turned out ok in the end. Here’s my ‘ski’ poem. Let me know what you think.
To ski, to fly
Down powdered lanes
Of glistening white
To fly, to race
Letting your weight
And instinct lead
To race, to see
Obstacles racing near
A blur as you pass
To see, to feel
The freedom of your flight
The oneness with the mountain
To feel, to love
The solidarity
One light, one night.
Was it a joke
The way you loved me
A prank played upon a silly fool
Were your friends waiting to hear
The outcome of my tears
The ending of our years together
Was it pure jest
That you laid upon my feet
Filled with stars and rapture
And glittering promises to keep
To keep
His lips taste like pink lemonade
Tinged with blackness, temptation
His teeth are eggshell inside his lips
He jingles his spare change and smiles
Blueviolet light from neon signs
Flash in his thistle hair
Twinkle, twinkle, the night is silent.
Eileen Maki 