Thursday, November 28, 2019

Wings



you stride with your walking stick
left to right, left to right, along corners
up the stairs & alleys
along subway doors

i can't imagine what you may not see-
not this winter season full of greys 
but the magic of spring
you
young gazelle, 
raising your face to raindrops

i know you believe in angels 
though
you see, i see not one, not two but many
hands, including myself 
reining you from falling onto the tracks
guiding you along
wishing you nothing but good
tidings 
along your journey 

white hawk on tree
silent sentinel on the watch-
my morning, a gift-


Posted for dVerse OpenLinkNight.   Happy Thanksgiving to our US friends!  Thanks for joining in when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Monday, November 18, 2019

November morning



i shiver
my skin grows out from darkness
ghostly pale silvery moonglow turns
lightning hues of rose lavender blades

a blossoming of perfume
petals unfold, fingers of clouds & stardust
a beauty unimaginable
at the crack of dawn

i rise
raindew on my eyelids




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille.  This is a 44 word post with the given word - CRACK. Thanks for your visit.

Monday, November 4, 2019

notes to myself



be 

 the bluebird swelling with songs as sun rises

 the tide storm dancing with kelp

 the pearl drops on fallen maple leaves

 the electric guitar strings of wind's murmurings

 the light keeper in darkest of nights 

be 

 madly in love with life

 unapologetically, myself 






Grace@Everyday Amazing

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by Kim Russell.  This is a 44 word post with the given word - KEEP.  

Monday, October 28, 2019

the moon, the sole witness



Her eyelashes are heavy by restless nights.   The backpack strains her shoulders as she nears the destination.

She walks faster now, knowing the path towards the forest trees with giant roots climbing out of boulders.   The shadows are draping every crevice.   This is the barrenness of harvest or pestilence.   She almost lost her bearings.

You can't stop now (voice in her head).

She steps into the clearing of stones.   (Only the wind hears his whispers).   Taking out a black case from her bag, she reaches for the knife.   His knife, bold & black, pressing familiar on her palm.     

There is no hesitation - she plunges the knife & breaks the case.   Small bones and dust caved into tunnel beneath.   The ancient trees will bury the remnants of her broken promises - finally. 

After a long exhale, she retreats, growing smaller as a candle light.                



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Prosery, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.    This is a word post less than 144 with the given line:  This is the barrenness of harvest or pestilence from All Hallows by Louise Gluck. 

Tuesday, October 22, 2019

autumn musings




Who braided the hair of the weeping
willow tree & left a shoe?

Sky is brilliant shade of blue

as maple leaves shimmer in red and gold


The sun moves slow as red & black
woollybear caterpillar on a dead leaf  


Why did the crab apple tree bind  
itself with sea glass?

The forest floor is soft book 
of needled pines and misplaced leaves

A river running low

smelling of dead fish, caught in the tides

Do you know what the earth meditates 

upon in autumn?

My skin itches from pollen, tea bags

and unanswered questions





Photo by Grace@Everyday Amazing 


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - The questions as a Poetry - Hosted by Laura Bloomsbury.

Thanks for the visit.

Monday, October 21, 2019

autumn burn


autumn leaves
darkening eyes, wind-curled blades 

on pathway, fallen from
maple trees

one by one
i tread with gratefulness 

i'll (always) remember how you 
torch the sky with brilliant orange hues

your rust-yellow fingers  
quivering with fire & sundust

my eyes are blinded 
by beauty






Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by De Jackson.   This is 44 word post with the given word, Quiver.  I have been spending time outdoors, enjoying our beautiful but short autumn season.   See you in the poetry trail.


Thursday, October 3, 2019

scattered needles//subway//



your silence is bell
ringing rust in my ears
swarming buzzing 
                             bees
my sunken eyes, lost pages
of a book
i stumble, fumble, 
                              mumble

i hold my lighter 
but i can't see my feet
the cut on my right hand
a growing fire
i am falling, 
                   falling
faster than autumn leaves

your silence is drug
drowning my veins in darkness
do i dance with dirty needles
in all my days
until i,
                   that nobody 
become a sterile sheet
you pass by on the street  
               -somebody, help me-



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - A first hand experience watching a young man in the subway train, addicted, high with drugs, in our regular commute.      After our ride, someone reported him for help.   

Tuesday, October 1, 2019

Ode to an avocado




dressed with lemon,
garlic, olive oil & mustard-
a chef's delight

but i like you best
bare
sliced open under rough snake
skin
velvet ripe & creamy
belly

drizzled with sugar
& cold milk,
bowled dessert
of indolent summer days

plump smooth,

slivers of ambrosia      
your taste is only rivaled
by my other childhood memory-

cloistered nuns
making candied purple yams
stirring over
& over
flaming giant pan until
rough fibers turn sin-

fully lush
as nectar oil

decadent food 
for gods  
hand-bottled for sale in market -

pear-shaped
your green womb
wraps me tight like seed
coconut-shaped

pining for tropical sun-
   


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - An oldie but good poem for today's Poetics by guest host, Lisa Fox (Jade Li).   Join us for a food-inspired prompt at 3pm EST.

Picture credit:   here

Thursday, September 26, 2019

the heat of autumn




the music you stir
is knifing sweet as apple cider
you sing the words
with guitar strings cool as rose-ribbed lamp

if only they knew
you are flint that fires me up
striking at core, waking 
at first light, your name

on my lips, sudden rainfall
as if world leans away from 
scream of darkness 
to deep dive of blue kiss - 




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - MTB - Metaphorically Speaking - hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Title and poem inspired by Jane Hirsefield, The Heat of Autumn.

Monday, September 23, 2019

autumn dusk



as leaves turn
to autumn rust

my white roses bloom 
where once the soil was arid

extinct of fallen green apples  
(now) i hear buzzing bees, wild rabbits 

& flight of geese  
i watch as wrinkled sky quickly turns, 

swallows amber light, 
hungry as coyote





Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by Linda Lee Lyberg.  The word to be included for this 44 post is Extinction. Thanks for the visit.

Note:  I actually saw a pair of coyotes in the common park. The community is aware of this and all the signs are up to be careful with walking early morning or at night especially with pets.    This is the reality of urban living now, co-existing with these wild creatures peacefully.