Shelter from dirt and cinders
Against polluted skies In cosmopolitan cities Where cars zip and whiz With no care of crashes Or harms done Soaring sanctuaries with minarets Composed from craggy crevices Centuries old subsisting In knowingness Of truth and light And all things brutal
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Sun glares over cacti
Skies cloudlessly bright Sits on grassy dryness Elbow rests Thoughts of consumption Tastes of emotions, souls, lives Inflammation engorges Boundary + Less A consolation prize
When he did not win What he truly wanted Gone unnoticed For lack of drama Whole without rescuing Garnering no attention Trapeze girls intercede With their skillful glances Her quietness overlooked Like washed out photos On egg-shell painted walls One tacky petal Slowly disappearing On a grandmother couch Disregarding her worth A carnival token Never his first choice When possession of the soul
Exceeds the evilness of man Neither mean spirited or cold indifference But simple sadness and deception Of oneself with total self interest Petition the heavens for guidance Since misery portends the final outcome Only an awakening from pettiness Will redeem you from becoming Like those you seek to demarcate Seemingly so easy
Like falling from a cliff The nothingness of the sky Answers my lingering doubts Memories whisper on the winds Glimpses of phantoms from what was Sun flickers between blinds
On neglected windows-dirty, dusty Quiet settled morning gray fades Over treetops Peach drifting to white wispy blue Announcing a day Draped in light colored smog Not yet darkened by sweltering heat People murmur busied With work…of no import Or sit daydreaming Out windows At barely green trees With hope late predicted frost Does not decimate Budding blossoms They sit sheltered From cloudless dry crisp Winter air that chills bones Causing noses to run Red dried blood Whipping about tangled locks Of unkept hair And watering eyes Summer will peak…decline Renewing the solstice turn Of circular patterned continuums Embracing planted abundance Grown to green lushness To be reaped…replaced Thrashed to brown fertile decay To be reborn in early vernal mornings Dandelions watch
As people wait For buses, cars, other rides They bloom and die A city block oasis Creeping-time ticks Boredom raping hearts Grown to blow away To other side streets Un-protective waste Only to survive Consuming life To annoy overzealous gardeners During overcast days |
AuthorI'm Kelley Gallop. I live in Virginia and when I find time I write. Archives
December 2021
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