November PAD Chapbook Challenge 30

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 30

Memories

Memories
are not carved in the bark of trees,
they are neither drawn in caves nor set in stone.
They are ships that drift into the endless sky;
fog,
      frightened by the morning breeze.

Memories
are like withering flowers
stuck between the pages of dusty books;
they are healing bruises on a weary skin;
wounds,
             turning into pallid scars.

Butterflies,
they are evanescent butterflies;
fading lines of letters to our aging selves;
burning leaves; pathways hidden in the wilds;
voices,
           echoing through darkened lanes.

...and the strings of our hearts
still remember the old melody
with the lyrics written in the sand:

when we sing, when we play,
to the seashore comes the tide of times,
and the memories are washed away...

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 29

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 29

Paid in Full

Mercy is power:
hiding inside commercial, partly
formed into sounds comme merci.
Mercy is power.

Mercy is womanly:
stronger than it appears, only
sharper than any blade or spear.
Mercy is womanly.

Mercy comes quietly:
stepping on every fear lightly,
washing away salt from tears.
Mercy comes quietly.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 28

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 28

He really must be a bird

He waltzes around in his swallowtail,
almost sprouting wings,

I am at his beck and call, as he smiles
and whispers some lovely things.

Graceful and cocky, with those of his kind
he easily flocks together,

in twitter he's better than two in the bushes,
he's always in high feathers.

As high as he makes them fly at our home,
once they are ruffled best;

soon there is one in his cap, and he could
have knocked me out with the rest;

in case I have any, he clips my wings,
and shrugs water off his back.

"Some things will never fly," I say,
"however loud they quack."

I leave him on the sofa, probably
wondering what I mean

when I tell him to go to bed with the chickens
and get up with roosters 
instead of me.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 27

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 27

Narrow-hearted

I love the most the ones I know.
I don't know many.

To those few I give my love.
If I have any.

Among those few is you, and I
may sound vocal,

but there is God to love the world - 
my love is local.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 26

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 26

Subjectivity of Freedom

(sevenling)

Free choice is not your invention,
neither is grace of forgiveness:
they are not yours to offer.

Wherever your good intentions
lead you, follow them closely:
leave me alone to suffer.
I'd rather be choice-free than choice-less.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 25

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 25

of Earth and Plant 

Your skin is rough against my touch.
New life will still fight its way through
and offer tender malachite stalks
to lacing whips of raging sky.

New life will elbow its way through: 
you raise it well, you turn your back
to lacing lips of raging sky,
drink up the pain. New life is strong.

You raise it well, you stretch your back
towards the sun until it's down.
Drink up the rain - new life is strong.
The water seeps into the air

towards the moon until it's down;
you welcome flames of rising fire,
the water dies into the air -
alive again on waking leaves.
_____________
Pantoum remix of "Elemental song"
http://keinerschertsich.blogspot.ru/2013/11/november-pad-chapbook-challenge-17.html

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 24

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 24

dance in the rain

Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, 

it's about learning to dance in the rain.

~Vivian Greene~

sprinkling, drizzling, raining, pouring,

drop, 
        drop, 
                drop, 
                         - stream,
step, 
       step, 
              wet, 
                     - scream!

spinning, jumping, laughing, soaring,

people staring, gasping, pointing,

wind - sharp, 
                    cold - whip,
face - hot, 
                skin - slip,

running, falling, sky-anointing,

shrugging, talking, arms flailing,

up! 
      de-
            fi-
                ance,

eyes smile! 
                 drink! 
                          dance!

people leaving, 
you - staying.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 23

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 23

Early Spring

I blink 
green sprouts from under icy ground 
pushing through crystal crust.
I'm stiff. I stretch and puff
the icicles off branches in the garden.
I urge reluctant streams 
of melted cold down the road; 
they do as told, but halt
as soon as clouds wrap 
around the sun. I stand here stunned. 
I feel the wind get stronger.
There's something wrong,
as even if I hold my breath
- the wind's still blowing. 
Now it's snowing
and I start to panic. 
Like a tender lover, 
with remnants of my warmth 
I cover shooting buds and sing 
a lullaby to waking bears.
I stare at the sunset
and, in wonder, I wonder if 
maybe I shouldn't be 
here. 
Just yet.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 22

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 22

When you arch your back and gasp

scribble your love on the walls
of my aging heart, put it in fine
calligraphic ideograms, fold it in scrolls
to be kept in my fleshly shrine;

shine your love bright on your lips,
in your eyes, let its light reach
out beyond all pain and eclipse
scars of the past, seven lifetimes each;

leech me with love, let it bleed
down my spine and stick to me like a remora;
make love into a casket for shattered dreams,
whispering to my longings: memento mori...

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 21

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 21

Go Figure

"Aw, well. That's it, enough of you!
Shove your excuses up your lazy pants.
Right, say it! No, on second thought,
you know, just go - you make my hamster sick.
Three years I've spent - three precious year! -
on you, pathetic, selfish... Oh, you know,
even curse words appear too good to waste
Wait, don't come any closer or I'll scream.
Or, better, I will dial 911,
I'm doing it right now. See? That's right,
go on and put your hands up,
roll your eyes, please, help yourself
to my shoehorn. And take your staff!
Or rather, I will mail you all your junk!
Leave, don't forget to slam the door
just as you would, and don't you dare call,
I'll switch my phone off, I'm doing it
right now!.. There!.."

He left. She pushed her tears back;
lied down with her phone in her hands;
she switched it on and stared at it
for hours, awaiting him to call.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 20

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 20

Always Awhile

What's a century for the world?
Our life's hardly even that long;
in the hustle to live and belong
'always' is a relative word.

We make haste to care and feel:
day is young and night never ends;
we are quick to call people friends;
not as quick to build or to heal.

Love is instant, so is pain:
our friend becoming our foe
feels like there's a part of our soul
dying over and over again,

but true loyalty knows to repent:
once a friend - always a friend.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 19

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 19

Love/Hate Theorem Disproved

Given: I love; you don't 
Hypothesis: you hate

I care about you - you care for your dog;
I think of you - you think your lunch is cold;
I miss your touch - you find things to touch;
I know all about you - you know Freud by heart;
I like you, 
poke you, 
comment on your posts - you meet your friends, 
you drink, 
you have a life;
I hate to cry - you never see me cry;
I hardly sleep - you do, but not with me;
I want to be with you - you want a Ford Mondeo;
My world is you - your world is all the world.

Thus: hate is not the opposite of love
          the opposite of love is unconcern

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 18

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 18

In Vino Veritas

The words I said... I did
...I didn't mean
...I mean I didn't, if I did, I'm sorry...
sorry if I did...
I say...I want to say forget,
say you forgot,
you won't remember what I said
...I said what I had never meant
to say or ever meant
to want you to remember...

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 17

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 17

Elemental Song

who can't admire earth?
its solid womb engenders life
and takes it back into the depths;
it suffers and endures all,
without prejudice absorbing blood or rain;
it welcomes all: whatever race or faith;
its skin is cracked and callused to the touch 
in deserts where the sun has no heart;
but in a green field on a summer night
it suddenly feels like a mother-land...

where can one hide from fire?
its scorching tongues speak Death;
it eats away at life, licking the plate;
the Hell is its eternal host,
while on a festival fire commutes to heaven
where it works a shower of sparks;
once tamed it shares light and warmth,
it saves, it feeds, it comforts,
and with its magnetic dance it fascinates;
its freedom runs uphill in glowing red poppies...  

has anybody ever seen the air?
yet we can never find an airless shelter;
it seeps through life, it's life itself;
and even death lets air come to its aid;
air travels through and over generations;
no time it fears, no distance feels too far;
it shapes the mountains, and smoothes edgy cliffs;
and blows apart whole cities without effort;
it carries ice, and snow, and rain, and withered leaves;
it holds the earth in its secure embrace,
and touches our face in gentle reassurance...

what are we but a splash of water?
and what are we without its saving grace?
it blesses spring with blossom, fish with home;
it bores into the flesh of land to be its soul;
up to the sky it rushes with the heat
only to fall again, to crash and bleed through streets;
its mighty waves play the eternal tag
till they are stilled by frost and put to rest;
and in the rising sun over the tops of trees
it's born from air on the waking leaves...

...you are a summer field
ablaze with crimson flowers
that are caressed by gentle breeze
and cleanse my skin in dew...

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 16

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 16

Brunhilde

She was called the bane of men;
cold and merciless with words, ruthless
in a fight.

Never dresses, never skirts,
no corsets, nor the crown – armor
shining bright.

Stunning beauty, noble blood,
she made knights, the bravest hearts, falter
and retreat.

No one dared to cross her path,
she was said to be the queen no one
could defeat,

till one day there was a man
brave enough to throw his glove, bowing,
to her feet.

He was graceful and agile
fended off her fierce ripostes, smiling
when she cursed,

but before the sun was down,
he grew tired, and his strength waded,
unlike hers.

She attacked, her hits still strong,
dancing to the clang of steel – silent
royal, grand.

As they pulled their helmets off,
in a thrust she knocked his sword out
of his hand.

Panting, he put up his shield,
and her sword razored his sleeve cutting
it to strips;

so, he lunged and by her waist
drew her close, pressing his mouth hard
against her lips,

and the sword, about to strike,
froze half-way and fell, as his fingers
touched her wrist.

What can seem a mortal blade
can be but a blade of grass dying
to be kissed.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 15

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 15

What a wonderful world

(gwawdodyn)

A baby cries to show from its birth - 

he is the center of universe!

How cruel he'll deem the world when he's told:

the sun doesn't move around the earth.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 14

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 14

Finiteness

I looked into a human body;
into the spirals of our essence,
the sequences of letters, codes –
life spoken into our vessels.

I’ve learned we carry generations,
so many genes are still suppressed,
and we are just a combination
of genes not read and genes expressed,

which means we could be all Shakespeares,
Lorcas, Garniers of beaux arts;
we could be geniuses or heroes
or play the piano like Mozart;

we could run marathons for hours,
or sing like angels, dance like swans;
if only all the genes of ours
could be miraculously switched on.

We could know wisdom of the yore,
or have the bluest eyes of Newman’s;
but even though we could be more,

we never could be more than humans.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 13

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 13

Helpless

people always age
time would stop for no one
people never change
casting every stone

whether trained or not
people grow tired
people grow hot
always have desires

people always need
freedom, water, air
wounded people bleed
kind people care

miles always last
lost is more than found
people clutch their past
go and come around

people love and hate
people can't be holy
wisdom's always late
pain is always early

there's a time to thrive
there's a time to wallow
help yourself to life:
suck it up and swallow

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 12

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 12

Wishful Thinking

The dress was perfect.
I thought I saw an angel
when you walked the aisle.
We kissed, and of all my life
it was the happiest day.

            The dress was perfect.
            You were the perfect bridegroom,
            and I think I smiled.
            It might have been my best day,
            had it been me in that dress.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 11

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 11

desoulation

Have you ever seen someone
who doesn’t look their age
and you thought they were older?
I’ve seen a house like that which wasn’t old,
but death itself looks better.

The roof with its decrepit crippled ledges,
the slanted fence, the morbid countenance
with hollow windows-eyes and missing
doors made it seem ancient – the house
was mere 10-15 years old.

I wondered if it had an owner who
could have some people come,
take care of the streaks of filth and mold
on its pale walls – the smeared mascara
on a crying girl’s cheeks is less poignant.

The panes were broken-down, the house
was derelict, raped of its youth, and,
being a miserable sight, it looked …ashamed.
The house reminded me of a heart
without a living soul inside it.

_______
 inspired by the RD picture of a dying house
http://amyjacksonart.blogspot.ru/2010/07/robert-dawson-contemporary-photographer.html