misty eyed

somewhere in me beneath the mists

is a city on fire

burning like napalm bombs

im pissed,

and somewhere, even deeper

is also a calm feeding the flames

 

Advertisements

[Kha-nar-see]

Even the commute in this neighborhood

is like riding with ghosts

Relive, revive

Drown

I’m even starting to forget the face with the name

Come, Time

Come,

time to put away childish things

emotions strewn about the floor

pick em up

shove em into your toy chest

let them rest away

where those who won’t break them

will scoop them up to play

by A. Long

Going Back

I am going back to her

to compare battle scars and sip

double dipped hot chocolate

To rekindle her light

I’m going back to her

yellow princess dresses

black boots, made for stomping

when she was all kinky tresses

To her questions, wonder, and guesses

To when she loved without  prejudice

before any man had come between us

To August

Tumbling down

a leaf as i leave you

with smokey memories and warm nights

I guess the Fall came fast enough

but there were days that stagnated

i needed

Reading the signs of change

like clasped hands cluctching knuckle skin

so long summer

catching weedles in the weeds 

stinging needles from fat rains

immaturities

brown eyed honesty

i guess we both knew the end would 

come for us

always,

always and never.

 

History

 
Where cloudbursts tore a gash
in the shoulder of the ridge,
uprooting ferns and hedge,
a maple and an ash,
a honeysuckle vine
and wires of gold ground pine,
the slide exposed a vein
of mica, groundhog den,
a zone of luminous clay,
revealing rocks like teeth,
a seam of yellow earth,
and brought to light of noon,
after half a millennium,
there in the mud, a shining
coin of the Spanish king.
by Robert Morgan