Poems

Stormy Weather

Posted on by A. Long

I awoke to the silence

asking it to quit talking

the voices

were worse than before

gasoline ignited frights shook me from my sleep

obnoxious ringing in my ear

its the pitter patter I hear

barraging my window in an endless echo

a choppy c note bangs on my heartstrings

I’m a loser

just drown me already

either put me out of my misery or save me

getting pushed further into the abyss

of my subconscious

conscientiously considering breaking down these walls

and burning hidden skeletons

how long can I hold on to this life raft

my arms are strong

conditioned

to pull others back from the brink

yesterday I stared into the deep

slept walked into the river

and then started to sink

fighting to breathe was too heavy

so I cried a lullaby

I sleep in the eye of a storm

a hurricane

that isn’t done

 

Poems

The Gamut

Aside | Posted on by A. Long

Soft day, be velvet soft,

My true love approaches,

Look you bright, you dusty sun,

Array your golden coaches.

Soft you wind, be soft as silk

My true love is speaking.

Hold you birds, your silver throats,

His golden voice I’m seeking.

Come you death, in haste, do come

My shroud of black be weaving,

Quiet my heart, be deadly quiet,

My true love is leaving.

–Maya Angelou

Trust

Posted on by A. Long

Trust me

like Pharaohs calling to rain clouds in a drought

Boundless grains of salt parch the Earth

I watch the skies open mouth

Trust me

as sure as death is to sing swiftly to cold bodies

Let’s make ours warmer

fill the space in the universe that propels us closer

The truth without trust

are only falsities lying in remission

repeating omissions

waiting for lies to come to fruition

Trust be nimble

& I’ll be Jack jumping back to the candle stack

that first lit these rhymes for you

Just trust

the way infants knowingly cling to their mothers

small fists of utter dependence

We sway with an unparalleled rhythm

and the pyramid kings have all gone home

I now call you to stand at your throne

I trust you to answer with that

regal swagger I know you have

This is me at my best

throwing down dented armor and all other guises

I trust you to tell me the truth

or do you not know what your disguise is?

Tucked in, patiently pacifying your disgust

I peer into your eyes sometimes

and only see what could’ve been

 

 

 

The Ghost In The Mirror

Posted on by A. Long

Who’s that ghost in the mirror

fighting through the pain of being alone

making friends with the walls

ignoring phone calls

falling into the floor to find feeling

reeling about how so much is missing

searching obituary listings, dissing

half ass acquaintances  who crossed over already

steady crying jaded tears and drinking beers

bitchin about an empty bed

a hollow kitchen

and a house that’s hardly lived in

pickin dirty dishes out of the sink to eat on

So long since kind words were spoken

silence sounds like broken pipes

bursted, rehearsed it,

that pretty smile fades

numb

as she jumps

off the stool in the living room

Fool, you can’t kill what’s been dead

said the lover

Get me out of your head

fleeting meetings of our heated greetings

are all at an end

bend back into the fold

ascend or stay

either way just do it with out me

learn to bleed

read between the lines

friends

you can allow yourself to live again

 

 

Annabel Lee

Posted on by A. Long

womansface

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

–Edgar Allan Poe

Happy Halloween Guys! 

Nightstands Sing

Posted on by A. Long

on the nightstand are three empty shot glasses

she reaches across a squeaky mattress

to pour herself another

and another

until the levees break

such a cliché she thinks

slamming down a few more drinks

kicking the animal twisting in her covers

can you get out now

i prefer to sleep alone

he rolls onto his back, grabs his sneaks to leave

she tries to cuddle up with her sheets

but they smell of him

Throwing on some clothes

she stumbles onto the streets

as the clock reads 4am

the flood gates open

singing, voice booming with lightening

so loud

she doesn’t even realize she’s screaming

the city deaf blind and dumb to her pain

wandering, lusting for connection

spiraling into a migraine

she falls into a tricky building

enraged she kisses her forehead to the bricks

They call her gorgeous

They call her brown eyes and silk for how she feels

in that moment she might’ve wanted to die

but she stopped short of an concussion

banging her head like percussion

shook a few screws loose

nameless she couldn’t

remember her address

just this lingering scent of a boy’s shirt

lost

she searched for him long gone

passed out on a park lawn

caked in her own juices

found by the  day

bathed in sunlight

knowing she was alone now

more than ever

They call her sugar and grit

They call her baby and Ms. Independent

And she’s got children somewhere

that should call her mother

Bluebird

Posted on by A. Long

there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I’m too tough for him,

I say, stay in there, I’m not going

to let anybody see

you.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I pour whiskey on him and inhale

cigarette smoke

and the whores and the bartenders

and the grocery clerks

never know that

he’s

in there.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I’m too tough for him,

I say,

stay down, do you want to mess

me up?

you want to screw up the

works?

you want to blow my book sales in

Europe?

there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I’m too clever, I only let him out

at night sometimes

when everybody’s asleep.

I say, I know that you’re there,

so don’t be

sad.

then I put him back,

but he’s singing a little

in there, I haven’t quite let him

die

and we sleep together like

that

with our

secret pact

and it’s nice enough to

make a man

weep, but I don’t

weep, do

you?

–Charles Bukowski