Ten Ways of Looking at the Crossroad

I.  

The sky is a glass

Of mourning blackbirds

I stand rooted, a weeping willow 

At the crossroad    

II. 

A sign 

Falls flat on grass

Knocked down by errant wind-

This ceased to be a cross-

                                           road    

III.

Two sisters stood at the crossroad 

One chose the sun, west of the forest   

The other chose the moon, east of the river

When they met again after a year,

Their faces were maps

Their hands were cups

Hued of their journeys 

IV. 

At midnight

Your reckless heart rips away

The bandages

And follow the unmarked road 

V.  

From the distance

A crossroad

Strikes a shiver of excitement

Like choosing an ice cream flavor & toppings- 

VI.  

He walks with me 

And the crossroad turns into 

A boat ride in the canal

VII.  

At the crossroad

I felt every pebble, gravel & slab

beneath my feet

VIII.  

Death arrived

At this crossroad

Early Sunday morning

IX.    

When she gave an ultimatum - 

The crossroad  

Became a street marked with dynamites 

X.     

Your face is

A book

Stamped with crossroads

I have yet to figure out

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics - Fated, hosted by Merril Smith.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Five seasons of fire

I.

This fire is a cold
seed, buried deep 
in field, breathing death  
& scent of water-
lilies

II.

This fire is red
deer, wallowing in dust
running free on forest 
roaring to wind's end-
less chants

III.

This fire is confetti
elusive, beyond my     grasp
bursting around,      above me-
star in the sky

IV.

This fire is crawling
all over walls & floors
I can't stop it
  eXplOdiNgGGGg, .....    .


V.

This fire is burning
-tongue on tongue-
-skin on skin- 
you, erasing darkness



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight, hosted by Mish.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Ten secrets

I.       You fold me

         in secret places

         with your words 

II.      I am burning red

         among yellowing leaves

         tempting- 

         an apple

         made lusciously ripe

         by your secret thoughts

        

III.     The tongue itches

         prickling under thorns 

         as marauding bees descend 

         You regurgitate         

         spilling the secrets of seeds 

IV.    The taste of spice  

        of a stolen afternoon

        The music that springs

        By the strum of your hands         

        My love, the secrets we serenade to              

  

V.     The starlings weave

        a million of them over the lake

        a dance

        to a music

        only the wind secretly plays 

VI.    This bleeds

         inside, gaping blue despite

         your attempts to stitch it close

         Teeth, elbows, claws

         This secret lives 

VII.    Your heartbeat is my music 

         Opening me to secrets 

         of sky and faithful earth

VIII.    Kiss by kiss 

          You unwrap me

          As blackbirds flew

          Under secretive eye of the moon  

IX.     You sugarcoat it

         With cinnamon & vanilla 

         Richly layered with strawberries 

         Still the stink of your dark

         secret haunts

         you

X.      I paint my secrets

         with autumn jewelled hues

         and seal them with beeswax-

         Death, pry them loose from my stiff hands

         and throw them to the river gorge

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenlinkNight hosted by Gayle ~  Written in the style of Wallace Steven's poem:   Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

Thanks for the visit ~

Ten ways of looking at a leaf

I.      arrange me 

        on a moon-shaped plate-

        leaf-curled -

   

II.     empty of seed-pods

        the leaf 

        with still water

        withered to ground

III.     night wind whistles

         as blackbirds huddle 

         above city street lines- 

         not a leaf in sight-

IV.     a yellow leaf falls

         striped, puckered by frost - 

         followed by another leaf

         bright as milkweed butterfly -      

V.      the clouds are moving -

         like bees carrying all the green 

         porcupine leaves with woolly hairs

VI.     spin-dancing leaves

         call me

         i come over and join them

                    

VII.    your kiss,

         soft as a pine leaf         

         budding of spring 

         rain

VIII.   your face,

         a leaf

         scented by sun

         against my palms   

         my whole world 

IX.     leaf by leaf

         our memories lay

         in tidy rows

         still 

         above the black moon 

X.      i walk under shadows

         of trees

         without leaves

         without ending 

  

Picture credit by :   Emily Blincoe

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar, Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg ~ Inspired by poem of Wallace Stevens - Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird ~

Ten Ways of Looking at Music

Photography:  K. Sparrek

I.     The gramophone is pillow
       cradling her sleep 
       whistling a music only she hears 

II.    The silence
       between the waves
       curled back string, taut - 
       the music in repose

III.   She walks with music
       of summer wind
       each step, cursive rhythm 
       
IV.  His words pierce her skin
      Swelling into scar
      Not even green tea
      nor music can soothe

V.   The digital music is light as air
      She walks
      with the clouds, cottoned to
      sun
      
VI.  The drums & piano keys
      war against each other
      His chest rises 
      with each horn's long call

VII. He was dancing as if the red ants
      are nibbling his feet
      The music must be sweet 
      as sugar 

VIII. Sleep eluded us
       So we order music
       as midnight snack &
       mambo as zombies

IX.   When the moon is new
       music draws us
       a star in our palms 
       
X.    She seeded music in winter-
       By spring, 
       it was hopping with orange-        
       breasted robins 


Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Inspired by Wallace Stevens' Thirteen Ways of Looking at Blackbird
& Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~