"Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky,
We fell them down and turn them into paper,
That we may record our emptiness."
Khalil Gibran

Sunday, July 23, 2017

The Resting Place

The end of choice, the last of hope; and all
Here to confess that something has gone wrong.
Philip Larkin


Iosias Sepultus in Mausoleum Patrum
Salvador Dali


It begins with a death. Preferably in the 15th century but any year will do. Even this year of our Lord. Cue a train of mourners – two abreast – they have apparelled themselves in momentary grief and clutch, perhaps, a symbolic rose apiece. For props, two stone angels leering from twin alcoves – inexplicably one wears a sly grin. Naturally, the overcast sky provides pathetic fallacy. An oaken door, bulleted with iron rivets, on a creaky hinge. Double doors would be better. They swing inward and this is where you come in. No expense was spared for your conveyance – four onyx horses wearing plumes or a long automobile in muted black. Bystanders cross themselves. Six men of equal height bear the palled form of what once was you. This is your room now, behind the barricade. The living step back, take a bow. A scattering of petals they have cast aside on the marble stairs is the only reminder of blood in the entire scene. 

Are you nearby, waiting for me in the wings? 


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The Weekend Mini-Challenge in the Imaginary Garden is hosted by Kim, who has provided us with Philip Larkin's poem, The Building, as inspiration.

Shared at Poetry Pantry # 363.


Friday, July 21, 2017

The Escape

Nap ~ Jose de Almada Negreiros (1939)
Fair Use


There’s a swing hanging lopsided from a cherry tree
in the front garden, and she still likes to dangle there
though her legs are too long and the branch above creaks.

She is often reminded this is her father’s house, his rules
and ‘no child of mine will run wild in the streets’
but there are beautiful boys with kind brown eyes

and they beckon with the promise to adore her.
Her new breasts were made to pillow a lover’s cheek
and the heart beneath to tempt its first breakage

but her daddy won’t let her out the gate to find her way
around corners so she dreams as she swings her legs
calculates the cost of a kiss and plans her escape.


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A little slice of life inspired by the video "Watch the Corners" by Dinosaur Jr ~ Music with Marian in the Imaginary Garden.