Sorry, I’m Closed Pt. 3

Cardiac arrest rests beats away Why can I not arise for a glass of water? Probably for these invisible chains Actually visible with invisible ink and black light Yet all are tragically out of reach Just like all other aids. I can hear the customers waiting Lined sardines shaking the bolt locked entrance. Swinging bells…

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Sorry, I’m Closed Pt. 2

The blush paneled table Encased by thin a plastic sheet Curled at its corners, Like dry autumn leaves, The corners which suffered From intentional banging of my hips And anxiously shaking fingernails, Scratching at the ribbed metal protectors. Torn up napkins Scissor hands sweating, Origami lilies spread out A faux glacial garden uplifted by thin…

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Sorry, I’m Closed Pt. 1

Parched, dry esophagus Thirst relocated from sweaty palms, A monsoon, a psychic cannot predict. The plush, twinkling velvet booth, Cherry lips of a bell pepper skin Ready to be peeled, Yet beyond the crusty layer An underlying pith Containing delicate cod-fish bones. I shake nervously.    

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Deliberation

Do not cry Because it is over Yet, Smile because it happened Long-winded thoughts seep, Exasperating the breath of my unconsciousness. How could “it” fly away? Of course, The osprey admires the water, But from time to time it needs To rest on the stable boulders Far from the sea it desires. Blessings come in…

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Dig, Dig

My first inclination Was that You didn’t look like other flowers. A beauty, hidden beneath  what I had thought I had known.  An undercover world, buried deep beneath the earth. I had to laboriously dig to find the love I have for you. Until that carved ember gem was found and tightly held against my…

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Intro

Masterful masses, Of queued cars cued by curved flags, To unload unorthodox belongings Belonging to wishful and wise Thinking theater majors or musical mimes Shy behind the black curtain Yet overtly open To the opera of awed auditors. To the thoughtful thinkers With thought out theories, And the introverts turned into Poets, prolifically producing and…

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Post-Fall Reasoning

Bustling The room is quiet But my mind yells LOUD In a haze of murky memories From times long ago That remind me Like hot breath on my neck So uncomfortable and unable to forget.   Although, yet, Here it is before me The sensation of cold ice on my boiling wrists What cools me…

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