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Literature Text
Heart and mind racing,
still pacing my cage.
Blindly retracing
each step just to gauge
the odds that I might
get through this in one piece.
Too tired to fight,
yet unable to cease.
still pacing my cage.
Blindly retracing
each step just to gauge
the odds that I might
get through this in one piece.
Too tired to fight,
yet unable to cease.
Literature
Curtain
I resurfaced,
the taste of salt and rare coins in my mouth.
I moved upward
like a swimmer
and kissed you properly so I might not
be alone.
The streetlight poured silver down your chest
through the open window
and your hair
sank pale and fragrant
into the edges of my vision
in the dark.
I could not see your eyes
so much as sense them,
as if they were familiar stones on a path I only walk
when I am in love.
I watched the curtain swaying nearby,
numb and ornate and rhythmic,
now and then touching your shoulder
the way I used to wish I could.
It moved like a sleeve
just before a hand emerges,
restless yet un-alive,
prophesying in half-
Literature
A Glimpse at the Truth
It's the rise of the perfectly manicured eyebrow. It's fascinating. With every sentence I say it creeps up just a little bit further. I decide to try and get to the end of it: “Well, and you know, these things happen and then I had another job and, you know, book burning went a little bit further down the list and I didn't really get around to it and when I finally came to her apartment, there was nothing there. I think I turned in the wrong person. Can you give her back?”
The second eyebrow sets herself in motion. “And you don't think that with your careless treatment of this very sensitive matter you just made the evidenc
Literature
For --
Bloom, bloom, bloom,
by the window, by the sun,
by the cooling shade of soft green cedar,
bloom, bloom, bloom.
When the chrysanthemums baldly raises
its heavy head to the dim-lit skies,
or cicadas shrill in train-speed rhythm
buzz and rest their wings on your shivering thighs
do not fear the world, the strangeness of Nature,
do not flip your pale small eyelids and waver.
Whenever burly oaks grow, wild-strong branches wide,
and benign barley bend and bow in a smile;
No - this too high; No - this too low,
Bloom, bloom, bloom.
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This one was inspired by the series off severe panic attacks that I've been dealing with over the past few days.
© 2014 - 2024 johnhmaloney
Comments3
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Hope you are okay now. They sound awful ,glad I don´t get them.