Let the Seed Decay

I dream in ways

my mouth cannot articulate

in ways my hands refuse to write

I am a prisoner inside

and there are bars

the world will never break

because they are made from fear

of death and losing all that

I have hid inside them

for so long.

let the seed decay

and never bloom

it will be better

understood that way.

.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/aerophish/3845885019/

Spiced Dawn, Eclipsed With Venom (Collaboration with Ben Ditmars and PoppySilver)

She bathed in surreal/resembling a dream/an incubus hallucination/trance, vagary and wrath/in the shadow she dwelt/mystified by death/it curved around her thighs, thoughts and heart/while daylight teased her lips/leaving strings of fire like saliva/caught between the stars/her soul had met its match/had suffocated lives long past/she had seen the doorway/invited him to witness it/he only had to offer her his blood/a simple sacrifice/yet more than picturesque/aesthetic qualities/one might taste/but never know/he would be a part of her/lost within the vast miasma/of her ventricles and veins/there he would swirl for longer than a lifetime/and a day/treason lingered in her soul/smeared with distaste for heaven/she absorbed his apathy/inhaled his sadness/such a succulent whirlpool of transparent fear/ beyond the pale of human skin/passive velleity turned raw emotion/the timbre of a voice/becoming one/within the walls/fingernails dug deep into/the fabric of eternity/and stretched time as it was known/pierced the core/ripped the dreams assundar/death was pungent/spiced with life/merged/they breathed/rapidly/let snakes hiss around their feet/venom writhed through their auras/oblivion never tasted so sweet/or putrid to vainglorious believers/in the craft of celibate demise/souls decay/if day by day/our sins become our passion/and she was more than vice to him/a guilty pleasure/sweet dessert/engorging all his senses/tasting, touching, hearing/more, than even five/he felt her on a cosmic plane/away from earth/she tasted his primal/raw/surge/engulfed him/released him/an orb unto the night/forever in her aura he remained/shone like a star unseen before/when she panged for more/he yearned for more/both/breathed/continually together/forever/continium/they had eclipsed the dawn/

(c)2013 Ben Ditmars and Poppy Ruth Silver

Poppy's Website - http://poppysilver.weebly.com/

Telescopic Memories

I never stopped
and thought of time
like gravity or motion-
maybe oxygen draining
from an underwater tank
or the wrong end of a telescope
where everything is smaller
than it was a minute
or a year before.

 
     http://www.flickr.com/photos/darksidex/414679569/

Shoestring

 

Image Source

 

you are the pebble in my shoe

I can't shake out

and I will wear the pain of you
until my sole is worn

tie myself to you each day

with courage and a perfect loop.

Shades of Us

Let me red your lips
Let me blue your mind
We are just two purples
Green around the gills.

Yellow in our hearts
Will fade to orange,
Like autumn leaves,
And crumble brown.



http://www.flickr.com/photos/29468339@N02/6100889042/in/photolist-ai7DL7-aiNNEE-8LiRjt-az2t2E-886Cg9

Submissions for Thrush

I sumbitted a few poems to Thrush Poetry Journal. The editors liked my voice but the poems were not accepted. I was a little sad because I've been a big fan of the publication and their use of social media. But, at least I get to share the pieces with you now. I hope you enjoy them.


Forged Within

It’s funny how one day
becomes a week,
becomes a month,
and soon a year
has passed where
we’re no different
from the last in
essence, yet
appearances will
tell a different story;
we won’t see the crows feet
Looking from inside ourselves
but others can and never understand
that every imperfection has a story-
laughter, love, a loss-
and we alone will see
true beauty forged within.



Pounding Rain

Cigar smoke
in the pounding rain;
her hand, outstretched
a distant light,
sifting through the plume
with ashy fingernails
she strokes my hair
reminds me,
she still cares
in hazy, blind surroundings,
Burning from the flame,
Her lips put out.

A Couple Poems

Playing with Fire

Breathing the inferno
dancing in the flames
walking on hot coals
to you across the steam.

I'll Never Tell Myself

I'll never tell myself
I wish it were the past
and all I have become
has withered on the vine.

I'll never tell myself
that life has lost its luster
while I breathe and
feel my heart.

A Few Short Poems

Terrorist

You came from nowhere
with a bomb strapped to your heart
hoping to explode.

I write

I write because
sometimes it hurts
and I need love
beyond a person's touch.

Observe My Hue

Observe my hue
fading to a grey
and then chalk white;
written on a sidewalk
in the rain.

Witch-House by a French Colonial

Note: Before reading I ask you to imagine some future civilization coming across these words a thousand years from now. This poem is all that remains of American culture.

*****

French doors, porched roof

beyond a gentle garden

and a child’s swing set

swaying in the breeze.

Picket fence obscures

a shelter skeleton

hidden by dense foliage.

grass winds up old stone

to meet a single door

and windows boarded shut

presumably to scare off

children wanting candy.

Plumbing

I poured summer down the drain,

The last of it; the end of it.

Sunrays splashed on flowerbeds,

Spiraling with fresh mowed grass

Into the vortex of another year.

I saw the faucet trickle out

A few fake spiders and a

Lit-up pumpkin.  The cycle

Had begun again.

I thought of this poem whilst pouring some long flat, unfinished beer down the drain.  It was Summer Ale from Sam Adams and likely the last I will have of it until next year, seeing as how it's seasonal.  So, I got the idea of actually pouring summer down the drain from that. As you can read, I'm not very good at these poetry explanation things, but I thought I'd give it a try.

The God of Sex

I dreamed I met the God of Sex
A humpback trickster Kokopelli
Playing flute and charming women
As a rainbow serpent.

He called himself Tonacatecuhtli
Lord of Our Sustenance,
Who warmed the earth
And made it fruitful.

None argued when he changed his form
To Priapos and then Adonis
Bragging that his death brought on
The anemone and windflower.

It was, he, the young lover of Venus
With a permanent erection,
Two arms, a club and lotus
In his hands.

Yet it was also Inuus having sex
With different animals, and
Shalman off at war or
In the underworld.

These and all thoughts raced
As Gedi showed us fire,
And then became a faded
Drumbeat in our ears.

The Whopper

Flame grilled beef

Lettuce, onions, mayo

Tomatoes, pickles, cheese

Between two buns of sesame

Consistent and unchanging;

Stability in life.

Corporate Garden

Scientist farmers water beans with beakers
As all the birds sing status updates.

Strawberries ripen free of frost
While fingered stems do calculus.

Power lines crossbreed with lilies
To become herbaceous flower stalks.

Honeybees discard their combs
And dump honey into cereal.

Irrigation channels wine
To numb the nature of reality.

.

Psychadelic

Papier-mâché trees with cardboard trunks,
And starry lights
Attracting gnats in posh berets
That speak obnoxiously of French Ballet.

Steam powered busboys clear tables
With their steel-gripped robot hands
Singing songs of woe in binary –
They know you won’t decipher any.

Holograms of cushy chairs
Disappear as you approach,
Become a bed of spiky cacti
And poke you all-night with their lie.

The moon is visible for just two seconds
Before it’s blocked out with airplanes pulling banners,
And fireworks to conquer nature,
Enforcing merits of consumption.

Even wasps text one another
Sipping nectar maitais, talking politics,
Deciding where to find the next hot market -
So they'll invest in caterpillar futures first.