Tag: poetry

The Gray, Brutal Desperation

the price of wet socks
by Keith Landrum

when mother nature is depressed
she cries for a week
but some say it’s god
taking a piss
on all of his sinners

and really
either explanation
seems reasonable

because there is
a gray area
void
of color
or warmth
a place without
smiles

and that’s where I’ve been
standing
on the front porch
under leaking gutters
watching the gray
float from the end
of a desperate cigarette

as the weatherman
defends his honor
with science
declaring
all of this rain
all of this gray
all of my blues
nothing
but a simple
brutal wind
designed
to
burn
the
hearts
of
man

—–

Keith Landrum paints, works, draws, writes, and drinks in Chattanooga, TN. His work can be found in various print and online small press publications.

Hum

Hum~
Catherine Zickgraf

Hum

One day he showed up humming in her
head every time she tied her shoes. She
woke up once on her roof ledge, fingers
spread and wired blue to umbrella tines.

Even miles away, the voice still preyed
upon her. So she hid under his stairway,
hunted by slithering soundwaves, tying
her throat to seek peace in dead silence.

___________
Catherine Zickgraf has shared her poetry in Spain, Puerto Rico, and throughout the continental US. See her perform at youtube.com/czickgraf. She hosts Augusta, Georgia’s MAD Open Mic every Thursday, yet homeschooling her boys inspires her the most at the moment.

The Brush of What Was

Girl With a Hairbrush
by Elaine Walton

Walking down the hallway,
I pass by your room and see
a mark on the wall
that damn mark on the wall
where you threw a hairbrush
in a fit of anger.
my hand reaches out
for it for you
and i close my eyes as if
blocking out everything
but this right now
will turn back time
and you will be here again
poised and ready to throw it again
if only it would make me hear you.
As I touch the wall, tears try to tell the truth
and i open my eyes to see
who you are who you were
who you will always be
in the dirty clothes on the bed
shoes on the floor
books stacked on the desk
pocket change on the night stand
windows unlatched but curtains drawn
i know what your room used to hold
sadness tears disrespect anger resentment
and thoughts of you
race through my mind
just like you do every waking moment.
i think of all the things you won’t do ever again
laugh cry graduate run drive sneeze smile breathe
my knees give way
the floodgates burst open
tears flow in silent testimony
to all that you were
and all that you’ll never be
and now that you’re gone
i vowed to keep my eyes full
of everything we had the chance to do
and not on things we’ll never do
so i embrace everything you are
dirty clothes on the bed
shoes on the floor
books stacked on the desk
pocket change on night stand
windows unlatched but curtains drawn
because the mark on the wall
that eternal mark on the wall
is proof that you were and always will be
my sweet angry loving spiteful beautiful child
with a hairbrush.

—–

Elaine D. Walton was born in Birmingham, Alabama in 1970. She writes poetry about about all aspects of the human condition. Elaine graduated magna cum laude from The University of Texas at Arlington in 2002 with a B.F.A. in Painting and lives in New Jersey with her dog, Majik.

These Deigning Burns

Leave off the Slave’s Soft Cruelty
by dGabe Evau

Leave off the slave’s soft cruelty
The worms that eat your mind
Beware of friendly sympathy
To feelings not your kind

Ours a wretched lot, to bear
the joys of Spring, + bury them
Some would deign to take our
rotting corpses + marry them

Truth is splashing in the stream
Follow footsteps into dreams
Winding paths, terrible wrath
Nothing’s what it seems

Fire burns to carbon dust
Sturdy stones in which we trust
Precious metals, clothed in rust
fail to shine, yet beckon us

                    on into the Nightmare,
                    Midnight’s vanity
                    Dawn discovers right where
                    we left our sanity

*****

dGabe Evau is the last bohemian and poet-magistrate of Cambridge, MA.