Piece Seeker

it’s no real surprise, he’s half-cocked
and attacks with pad locks
on his eyes,

once ol’ boy shrieked and shattered
and soul fragments were floored
then scattered

now he’s a one man search party
on grim mission of
recovery,

draggin’ grey meadows with
comb overs to recover
missing pieces of a
missing boy’s
body,

if still exists his
piece that fits, he’ll
surely find it

and if not, he’ll stroll on by
like he’s already
found it

into knowing light
of lamp that
love lit.

image: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/126100858294538656/?lp=true

image: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/292452569529785291/?lp=true

WonderWolf

i’ll be your hulk n’ skulking
WonderWolf in thunders
spittin’ bolts at your
worst terrors,

i’ll pace the gate,
it’s hard this fate but
there’s no ghost’s yard
i’d rather wander n’
glare at moon and beg
it’s protection here
for you,

so draw the blinds,
crawl inside, as
you so do
.

image: http://getwallpapers.com/collection/cool-wolf-backgrounds

image: https://www.boredart.com/2017/11/majestic-wolf-paintings-will-leave-amazed.html

Knick-Knacks on my Tracks

there’s a chewed up box of
kick knacks left on
my train’s brain
tracks,

hear the whistle sound off
in distance, wind’s resistance
depletes with my implied
insistence,

light teases at the tunnel
like eyelash flutters when
flooded with sun’s
brilliance,

there’s a chewed up box of
thumb tacks left on these
diesel heart’s cracks

and the tunnel eye’s
now bleedin’ black
and not only in
appearance.

image: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/480618591457102022/?lp=true

image: https://thoughtcatalog.com/christine-stockton/2013/11/16-peoples-terrifying-encounters-with-the-black-eyed-kids/

Emergency Landing (over Bermuda)

i propose for boy,
a demotion,

’til he handles his steel
like he never split from
basic training,

wavin’ dull blades like
he’s landing
pilots,

sittin’ congested in
in sky’s stuffy
cockpit,

more dud than
hot rocket,

a bulb dimmed in
working socket
.

image: https://www.icytales.com/bermuda-triangle-mystery-solved-incidents-which-make-famous/

image: https://history.howstuffworks.com/history-vs-myth/devils-triangle-been-swallowing-up-ships-for-centuries.htm

Last Slow Dance (Song Ends Too Fast)

Loosely inspired by the gifted singer/songwriter Mistki’s ‘Two Slow Dancers’ from her album, ‘Be the Cowboy’.

first kissed at last dance
of closing season
,

nervous tips feelin’ up hips shaped
by most skilled and nuanced
hands in heaven
,

two slow dancers scale buckling
walls and kick through the
stippled ceiling

to climb up and into clouds
stalled over school
gymnasium
.

image:http://www.dancefacts.net/

image: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/488640628314669768/?lp=true

image: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/555068722806841692/?lp=true

Woe to the World

we’re so blind to the ways
we’re all blind
cliches,

and i’m not so inclined
to abandon all mine, no time
today for tomorrow’s
poorly pen spray

i drape black gloved hand ‘cross
my face and moan my cliches
in heavy overlay.

cello strings swell raven’s
tar wings as a record
skips from overplay.

image: http://grandcentralatelier.blogspot.com/2011/03/joshua-larock-new-paintings-and.html

image: https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-martyr-the-resurrection-of-Van-gogh/706952/6458249/view

Here and Gone (and i long for Angel's Eyes)

each crooked step, each
shallow print left just fades
like tissue wave as death
train speeds away,

thought i’d have riper
regrets n’ cheeks would
rest less cement n’
more wet

than tight-strung tongue when
heart’s wings unfold soft
n’ golden to say

here or gone, i’ll love you
in all my restless,
deathless
ways.

image: https://www.artmajeur.com/en/elena-kotliarker/artworks/8931745/the-angel-wings-series-3-the-white-and-gold

image: https://fineartamerica.com/art/paintings/abstract+angel+wings

Coffee in the Courtyard

ivy alone, dressed the stone
in spring courtyard

as breeze confirmed my deep
need for autumn cozy in
morning shivers
like these
.

the service was beyond
exquisite, the food too,
but i was having
none of it,

just somethin’ hot and
bitter for mulling over
midst sporadic
puckered
sips,

kissin’ at dear dawn
with frosted
lips,

and naggin’ was my guilt
over the pittance tossed
as server’s tip
.

come next sun, i’ll return,
n’turn back to stone and
atone for stingy slip,

i alone, sit dressed in stone
in winter’s yard and
ivy’s grown over
my bones.

image: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/295408056782828149/?lp=true

image: (some rebloggy site i can’t seem to find again, my apologies to original photographer)