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the unknown blended into a singular form
an onion growing in my inner backyard
a layer a day, I peel away timidly, slowly
nibbling away the bits with a salty tongue
sometimes, ravenous I would climb inside
all the things I do not know I find in there
inside their double, triple, quadruple layers
their strength I steal to fly the fearless sky
turn my perspective into what I do not see
everything small and much too surreal
all the thick layers overgrown, break apart
they float in the sea of fading memory
I cradled everything I do not know inside
safe in the small walls of my childish dreams
they look upon me with inquisitive eyes
waiting, dwindling in my undiscovered self
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Blythe's Original Poem:
All I do not Know
Could the unknown be a singular, solid thing?
A giant onion or cake sitting in my back yard?
I nibble away at the edges most days, timidly
Lick around the corners with a cautious tongue
Sometimes, ravenous, I throw my whole body
At it, and find that all the things I do not know
Are solid enough to hold me up, strong enough
To throw me up toward the sky, and with that
Change in perspective, I see that all the things
I don’t know are much too large and much too
Dim to be a pearly overgrown onion, or a waxy
Wedding cake on steroids, and floating higher
And higher above all I do not know, cradled in
The safe enclosure of the small tract behind my
Childhood home, I can look down onto me, into
The depths of my groaning, undiscovered self
Read Write Poem
Poem Swap with Blythe at Pro Tempore. Rather then re-edit the poem, I decide to reinterpret it. Read Blythe's own revision of this poem here.
All I do not know
Thy burning kiss
how can I sleep while all around
orange rays burn into ambiguous surfaces
heating thy night in morose operas
coercing upon thee one wish
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields
dream in a cool mist of thy selfish ice world
'tis a blush of delight in the summer breeze
and bend a brighter brow beneath thy burning kiss
in the burning June
Patchwork Poetry. Lines in green are borrow from these poems:
A Summer Shower by Henry Timrod
June Night by Sarah Teasdale
The Summer Dayby Mary Oliver
Monotonous Melodies
these pages of me
scatter in monotonous melodies
against the dark moon
wings of popsicle sticks on my back
waiting for a sign
the night slowly slithering away
One Single Impression
I never thought
I never thought
of you
as being there
in the corner of my life
existing
so close to me
time slowly digested my days
but I never thought
not in the split seconds of solitude
not in the hours of hopeless insomnia
did I once thought of you
being there
now you're gone
I never thought
I would miss someone
who was never in my thoughts
until the last hours of my life
will I ever thought of
never thinking
of you
The above graphic (I added the background) was created with Wordle which I found at Flyturtlefly.
Splinter
yesterday, against admonishment,
I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in the clear blue sky
all around me
tall whispers of green earth
I was in a forest, wind hymning
a song so bitter, it hurted my ears
I huddled in the cold, my mind splintering, unbending
in a sweat of liquid fire
I woke from consciousness
all around me blackness
winter was still inside of me
Patchwork Poetry. Lines in red are from these poets:
Robert Hayden
Mark Irwin
Gregory Orr
William Carlos Williams
Summer Rain
thunderous sky shouting above
embracing the city into night
the sky drunk on water
suddenly unfolds
rain splatters down
in verticals strikes onto the pavements
street lights flicker on
huddles of umbrellas banging against each other
a sudden pause
into the daylight we stumble
umbrellas wet with drowsiness
pavements splashed in liquid sky
we yawn with no awe
One Single Impression: Transience or permanence
Sleepless
a sliver of night
slipped in between the waking hours
an insomniac awaits
Mad Kane's Poetry Prompt: Sleep and Insomnia
Sunday Scribblings: My Nights
Train Napping
one eye half closed
he slips into a dream
tangling in the motion of trains
daylight gone out of the sky
a blue moon mocks the road
with gleeful glances
spotlighting here and there
time traveling through the darkness
Mobile Dreams
a canopy of stars
swirls in your yogurt cup
ocherous straw wines
crashed bits of gravel
all drenched in the silver sky
mobile dreams
ready to be pluck by anyone
Friday 5: crash, yogurt, straw, gravel, ochre
Bleeding
a cup full of bleeding words
thrown out by you to me
they paced among the soils of yesterday's screams
settling uncomfortably
into the concrete pages of my heart
One Single Impression
Reflection
reflections deceive
two of you
two of me
for a moment
a match made blurred
colliding in the double glass panes
under saturated graffiti and dirt
I glance over
you're no longer in view
One Single Impression
Yellow
her shoes
shaded in bright sunlight
stands just a few inches away
across the platform
silent in her movement
yellow warmth
replaces the cold concrete
each step
momentarily brightens her path
One Single Impression
Gone
she left without leaving
packed a big suitcase with tiny locks
all her small possessions
blank books and empty wishes
traveling through a jungle of new land
she slipped farther and farther away
placing new distance between us
sheltered in a small box with walls
she dreams of yesterday's voyage
Totally Optional Prompts: Absent Friends
Bent
the wind and rain press you against the walls
you held onto your umbrella
your precious fingers bent
fragile in their silent crusade
volatile echoes of your thoughts flutter in the air
having no way to clarify what they are
you chase them away
into the fantasy withheld in your mind
even the reversal of time
could not find you peace
Jigsaw Poem using words by commentators at Poets Who Blogs
Digital Daydream
spring drifts away
spiraling into a digital daydream
into the land of summer blues
a million pixels of aluminum quivers
tucked under the white folds
of cross streets and vanilla skies
a crowd walks
sedated in their task
without care
without knowing
a zephyr soon to send
them into another dream
Monday Mural
Date
love falters
on the edge
a smack on the lips
a kiss of no reprieve
Mad Kane's Poetry Prompt: Dating
Waltz of night
a virtual memory delayed
her mind diving close to the edge
catching rays of terrestrial impulses
in the deep end of her bi-ocular mind
dreaming in an ocean full of alien words
moving through an unfocused waltz of night
soon to be waken by the daylight of tomorrow
3WW: delayed, edge, focus
Writers Island: Impluse
Faces
photo by Frances at Blogjem, who kindly let me post it here
they stare but they don't look at you
their faces crimson with lonely joy
their bodies pressed against the wall
happiness escape their lips
as their eyes looks downward
hoping for you to notice them
hoping they would be caught
before they fall
downcast into despair
hoping every day
to be taken home
Writers Island: Liberation
lissa