Painting Words

My life...  
my legs they have kept far away from me
From the loft
From the rafters  
In the night come rumbling  
The pans had fallen from the shelves  
 
In the growing distance  
My home  
In the growing distance  
 
It has spread before me
And no longer reaches the gingham  
The hem and floral petals  
Shiver in the wind  
 
Something grows in the space  
From here to there..  
an emptiness  
And yet it grows  
 
My smile haunts my forehead  
It creases and is spittled with heat  
My smile had fallen from the shelves  
Along with the pans  
And my Mothers booming laugh  
 
My Mothers laughter echoes the distance
It is like lightning crack  
When I awaken from it  
And can no longer find my step  
 
I reach ..  
I pull away with timid hand
I am the field mouse  
I am the scarecrow off her post  
I am beauty on an island  
Of memory and remorse  
And the Sea
She folds into browns  
The screams of the cicada

  
                  tick    
      tock            tock    
 tick                       tick    
tock          |___         tock    
    tick                     tick    
       tock           tock    
                 tick    
The hands of time keep moving  
Without stopping    
                                or s-l-o-w-i-n-g down  
But in my mind I’m drawn toward some surreal dream  
To somewhere in –  
                                 - and out of memory  
   
Maybe it’s the    
                         nostalgia  
Maybe it’s the    
                        melancholy  
Maybe it’s my    
                        fondness for the sentimental of yesteryear  
Perhaps the recollection of life    
and times m  
                      e  
                        l  
                         t  
                             i             g  
                                   n               away  
                                              into an illusion    
Born from the subconscious    
                                                 Rising up to the surface  
   
         Time becomes relative  
     b  
         e    
        n  
   t    
    and    
            w  
        a  
     r  
        p  
            e  
                 d    
in my mind…  
When something    
                     Like  
         “The other day” may mean    
                 -decades ago-  
while recent fleeting moments |||| escape ||||  
                                                    Only to be captured  
                                 By distorted colors    
and purported words  
   
I become entranced    
                   O   O  
          By \_ Dali _/    
  and his    
interpretation    
of   mind  
and  
        time  
as the  
           persistence of memory  
m  
     e  
         l        s  
             t      away…      

 
(written for Eerie's "Painting Words" comp)


See there, how the wheat stalks, sway,
hallow’d, dressed in gold and gray.
Storm clouds, laden, bound and brewing,
shallow whispers, what’s ensuing.

(I need a resurrection in the rain)

Should the devil come to meet me
crossroads, dry and dusty greeting:
“Halloo there, son, your soul, I’ll need;
a sip of death, for a cool breeze.”

( I walk among the rows of grain)

I shan’t embrace the imp as mine,
Image on some “wanted” sign;
outlaw, grinning, from the pole,
awaiting some unholy goal.

( O Lord, my God, I hear your train)

Fence posts run along forever,
unpaved roads and bread, unleavened.
Prepare, now, for the Feast of Days;
here comes the wind, here come the rains.

( Selah, to the righteous ways)

Commissioned, by needs so profound
the salt that stings an open wound.
Pathos bringing its own cult
hangs the entire wall all by itself.
 
The gallery  to make you gulp
the pleading eyes that ask for help.
Spray can etch a pentagram
to be a lion not a lamb.
 
A spell of everything so wrong
holds the futures on a slender string.
To feel and greet just suffering,
the bubble floats, should we just sit?
 
So tied with no initiative
or pull down tomorrows hopes decal.
The sign that time won't heed our call
 Extinction - Rebellion will succeed.
 
And children not deafened to the need
to make their future evergreen.