ONLY THE GROUND

featured in the poetry forum October 31, 2017  :: 0 comments

Only the ground could break my fall.
Only the ground could cover my bones.
Only time will tell where and when.
Only time will buckle my knees.
My feet will go out. My torso will weaken
and slink into its coffin. I will fall
headfirst into the darkness or light.
I have no idea how it will end.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
eternity will meet its finality.
Only the ground could break my fall.
Only time will buckle my knees.

editors note:

We’ll all land in land… in time. – mh clay

IN SEARCH OF MY BRAIN

featured in the poetry forum April 5, 2017  :: 0 comments

I feel like a human experiment.
Thieves have stolen my brain.
I have no sense of timing.
The mirror does not recognize me.
I feel a dimness of sight.

I walk the streets confused.
I lose myself in these streets.
I am in search of my brain.
I am stuck in traffic.
I am deaf to the sounds of birds.
I am at a loss for the simple things.

editors note:

Yes, petri dish denizens, we be. No brains, no reason; just drive. – mh clay

OLD HOUSE

featured in the poetry forum December 17, 2016  :: 0 comments

The old house is haunted
by things that should be
tossed away. It holds
on to memories and
turns on the nostalgia
of broken dreams.

The old house needs a
new owner or a good
cleaning. It pulls you
in and throws you out.
It makes you long for
things that worked,
but now are broken.

editors note:

In a depressed market, maybe renovation is best. – mh clay

EACH LEMON

featured in the poetry forum May 2, 2016  :: 0 comments

Each lemon
I bring you
is a rose,
a symbol
of love. I
bring you a
bagful of
lemons. I
bring you eight
or seven.
I lost count.
Each lemon
is a kiss.
It is a
message of
love to you.
I want you
to know that.

editors note:

When love gives you lemons… – mh clay

VERY PLEASANT

featured in the poetry forum February 20, 2015  :: 0 comments

The spring sun can be
very pleasant when
there are no hands on
the clock and no job
waiting to be done.

It is so very pleasant
to know there are no hands
on the clock and the job
comes with vacation
time and holiday time.

The spring sun shines on
as I lie in my couch
at home having a
very pleasant dream
about handless clocks.

editors note:

Let’s make Big Biz this way; install handless clocks on every wall and a couch by every desk. – mh

PEACEFUL

featured in the poetry forum September 19, 2014  :: 0 comments

She carried out my execution.

She was dressed in red.
I nearly ate my heart.
There was something about her.
I slipped into nonexistence.

She was dressed in red.
Perhaps it was foreshadowing.
I nearly ate my heart.

I was speaking in tongues.

She filled me with anxiety.
I could not move to save my life.
I was speaking in tongues.
She made me disappear.

I walked in green pastures.
I laid down in a meadow.
I found a peaceful end.
I disappeared without a trace.
I tired of myself.

I could not blame her.
She was kind enough
to end my misery.
I felt her hair brushing on my face.

I found a peaceful end.
I ceased to exist.
It was useless to resist.

editors note:

Ethereal, external executioner to carry out our self-sentence; assisted suicide. – mh

BEAUTIFUL

featured in the poetry forum March 8, 2014  :: 0 comments

Youth is not immortal,
though a heart can remain young.
One July morning
I called her beautiful and meant it.

She thought I was silly.
I thought I was brave.
I was longing for acceptance.
My heart was weighing a ton.
I was far from Don Juan.

She was the woman of my dreams,
the most beautiful creature.
I wanted to shout it out.
She made me face reality.
She brought me down to earth.
She beat sense into my heart.
I live with a curse ever since.
I continue my journey.
I still believe she is beautiful.

editors note:

This beholder is the best Don Juan; a true believer. – mh

LIVE THIS WAY

featured in the poetry forum August 31, 2013  :: 0 comments

I find comfort in the not knowing.
I am a lazy detective,
like a fish out of water.

I find comfort in the long evening.
I find no lightning in a bottle,
just the wine inside.

I live this way.

I find the heart too fragile and weak.
It does not soar like eagles.
My gloomy eyes do not shed tears.
They are just serene.

editors note:

I prefer wine to lightning, myself. But, exercise for my weak heart couldn’t hurt, could it? – mh

WHERE THE SEA ENDS

featured in the poetry forum March 4, 2013  :: 0 comments

I’ll meet you where the sea ends,
where the sky is eye level,
where boats are houses
or shipwrecked. I’ll meet you
where the horizon is at your
feet, where the water drowns
the sky. I’ll meet you where
there is no movement, where
one just sits and stares at
the blue sky at our feet.
I’ll meet you where the colors
of everything are off and
the only color is blue.
There is such a place, where
the sea ends and where
the sky is at eye level.

editors note:

When you meet on that shipwreck sea, bring a lifeline; enough to save two. – mh

THE SECRET VOICE

featured in the poetry forum September 1, 2012  :: 0 comments

The secret voice
finds my wound.
Like a needle
it pricks me.

With immense sound
it shouts in
my ears and I
start to bleed.

The secret voice
lingers like an
echo that won’t
go away.

It bores through
my skull. It will
not take pity
or forgive.

editors note:

Those ceaseless accusations, if heard by all, would be exposed as unfounded. That’s the secret. (Luis has recently released a new book of poetry, Songs for Oblivion. Read our Mad Review of it and see how you can get a copy.) – mh