There
were
Blue Jays raiding
my dreams
this morning.
Lewd as
mean hatchets
in their
rough
untimely
screams.
Albino blue
blood eyed
babies
insistent
as knotted blades.
Arising,
in a starved
fire,
with a mind
unnerved by
the foggy dew of
wilted dreams.
Again,
as fortune has
kindly delivered
it so,
if I tip forward just
a little...
Salted palms
pushing back
and up
and over
in erratic
labored
windmills!
May I share
in the misfortunes
of desperate space
and learn to
graciously
blink
with a wonderful
defeat(does it need to be so?)
The light,
having
just caught the signal,
removes blackened
obstructions
from the
space between leaves.
What shall we do
now
you blueblood-eyed babies?
What can we
do
in this
restless
mountain song?
Showing posts with label poem by Leila Elliott. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem by Leila Elliott. Show all posts
Monday, August 1, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Dearface
Look
at the tales that
lay
in these twisted
sleeping palms.
They are
the daybreaks
worst greeting.
Arched
knotted fingers
that
weave through
shattered air,
silently etching
muted
jade
regret
into the
breath of pillows.
Sister!
Look,
at the clothes that have been ungraciously cast upon this
splintered floor.
They beckon so
longingly for your removal
that
their heads have snapped
in shame.
Was it the nitty gritty
night?
Assessed from the
agitation of coquettish
heels.
CariƱa,
oh dearface
look,
the exit is paved
with curious insects
and
as your grip on the
floor is released...
See?
The knob will turn
with
natural elegance.
at the tales that
lay
in these twisted
sleeping palms.
They are
the daybreaks
worst greeting.
Arched
knotted fingers
that
weave through
shattered air,
silently etching
muted
jade
regret
into the
breath of pillows.
Sister!
Look,
at the clothes that have been ungraciously cast upon this
splintered floor.
They beckon so
longingly for your removal
that
their heads have snapped
in shame.
Was it the nitty gritty
night?
Assessed from the
agitation of coquettish
heels.
CariƱa,
oh dearface
look,
the exit is paved
with curious insects
and
as your grip on the
floor is released...
See?
The knob will turn
with
natural elegance.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Queen's Lands
Outside
the benevolent hum of commuting automobiles
buzz saws
hydraulic cranes and
wailing children
persuaded
an exhausted spine,
aching for reprieve,
to curl
rapidly
towards the cushion.
A mind clenched in disordered thoughts
warily moved into sleep.
Shadowed forms cloaked and hooded
in
blackened vellum
danced
the steps of
beguiling lies
as the drifter
abdicated from the throne.
Walking
in humid meadows that had once been flood plains
she couldn't hear a thing.
Hopelessly exposed
to a light
that relentlessly plunged into ancient spiderwebs
and beheaded
the most alluring
of nettles,
the walking turned to plodding
and
as milky air parted between the footsteps,
there was before her
A heart.
Yes!
A heart
This heart!
It could be seen on the horizon of
a blushed cream sunset.
And this heart
was envenomed
in envious threads
and this heart
was guarded by
nefarious ivy.
Yet what was realized
what was made very clear to the onlooker
was that this heart was as any other
this heart was not special
this heart was not different.
This heart longed only for a mother
a mother with a thousand hands
a mother who hears all the cries of the world
this mother.
And what came forth,
before,
and after
was a
great
heavy
sigh.......
one that could awaken
and
as the dust from shattered concrete
swirled
and began to settle
in the doorways
eyelids softly murmured open.
A pale hand held open
in a vulnerable gesture
and in the palm
a fly
resting,
in a tiny heap
of shattered armour
weighed heavily .
Her eyelids stopped flickering and settled
to feel
the end of its life.
She arose and cupped the fly
in her hand
and as she brought this hand
towards her mouth
she whispered a few
careful words.
Outside
the trains had ceased running
streetlights began their nightly duty
shhhhhhhh.......
come on
let's go.
the benevolent hum of commuting automobiles
buzz saws
hydraulic cranes and
wailing children
persuaded
an exhausted spine,
aching for reprieve,
to curl
rapidly
towards the cushion.
A mind clenched in disordered thoughts
warily moved into sleep.
Shadowed forms cloaked and hooded
in
blackened vellum
danced
the steps of
beguiling lies
as the drifter
abdicated from the throne.
Walking
in humid meadows that had once been flood plains
she couldn't hear a thing.
Hopelessly exposed
to a light
that relentlessly plunged into ancient spiderwebs
and beheaded
the most alluring
of nettles,
the walking turned to plodding
and
as milky air parted between the footsteps,
there was before her
A heart.
Yes!
A heart
This heart!
It could be seen on the horizon of
a blushed cream sunset.
And this heart
was envenomed
in envious threads
and this heart
was guarded by
nefarious ivy.
Yet what was realized
what was made very clear to the onlooker
was that this heart was as any other
this heart was not special
this heart was not different.
This heart longed only for a mother
a mother with a thousand hands
a mother who hears all the cries of the world
this mother.
And what came forth,
before,
and after
was a
great
heavy
sigh.......
one that could awaken
and
as the dust from shattered concrete
swirled
and began to settle
in the doorways
eyelids softly murmured open.
A pale hand held open
in a vulnerable gesture
and in the palm
a fly
resting,
in a tiny heap
of shattered armour
weighed heavily .
Her eyelids stopped flickering and settled
to feel
the end of its life.
She arose and cupped the fly
in her hand
and as she brought this hand
towards her mouth
she whispered a few
careful words.
Outside
the trains had ceased running
streetlights began their nightly duty
shhhhhhhh.......
come on
let's go.
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