Black and white

Noell Oszvald

Is where sky & road
meets

&
collapses

Salt chafes my back
Where

he rides me hardest

The weight of him in my grain
His kisses

land on my hands
like two small birds 

I can barely rise

above burdens that weigh me

down


I write this poem 
to put an end on this curse.


Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - 55 Word Challenge
and Izy's This Poem is a Curse

Shared with Poets United

Of spring dreams

Lust by Elisabetta Trevisan

Peel back the grey,
for winter is long & bare

of tulips, daffodils, roses 
crimson as the sun

Snuff this lonely candle
until watercolors brim the canvas

Insatiable & lush
of colors bright as tangerine

The day ripens like a fruit 
whilst night unfolds emerald garden

Hold me in your arms
like a spring bouquet, my love
  

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub & 55 words for the G-man ~  Thanks for the visit ~

September moon

I stand by my window:  red skin  

As heat coils on last summer day

Lingering sweet as nectarines  

I lay down pen & verses – stay

As tonight is harvest moon, pinned

So low in sky, orange bouquet -   

Let’s celebrate, I say.   You grin-

Light spills – sunset, moonrise, flaming

    

Each seed, each grain, a wine so sin-

Fully lush, we collect & weigh   

These nights as silvered gems, claiming

Them as ours, one-of-a-kind   – stay  
  

I sway

 into the night:  plump orange

A pearl drop above thick maple trees, 

Or a mirage,  silvered  grey  as my hair 

I take out  my  white veil,  now  worn  frail

There is a time to forget,  letting  tides  fall

But tonight, when moon wraps the sky, 

luminous purple,   radiant  bride, 

Remembering is all 

you  

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub  -  Tonight is the harvest moon ~

Poetry form:  tetrameter-trimeter ballad form, using the rhyme scheme: ABAB, ABAC, ABCB.

And 55 moon-lit words for the G-man ~  Thanks for the visit ~

picture credit:   Tumblr.com

The mellow sounds

1992 - Sade

She sings blue 

    diamonds, cold as ice

Saxophone croons low/slow
  
    swaying, undulating silk

Fingers snapping to

    rhythm of raindrops falling  

I turn wet 

    percussions to crackle/sparkle 

My blood turns red/violet sky

    as I recall your hot burning kisses 

I'm melting, I'm sliding down/ground  

    as she sings blue

diamonds, cold as ice

    
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Jazzy inspired poems
and 55 melting words for the G-man - Thanks for the visit ~  

color of last night's moon

she is 

dreaming 

of  his face drawn 

silver and shadow, turning 

towards  her  by  the window-

at last,  the mystery will be  revealed

holding  her breath,  she imagines a

cold mask of death, when at last 

the  moon's  gaze  is complete    

she is awed by his soulful 

eyes, color of sadness 

equal to her

own 

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub and Flash Fiction Friday for the G-man- 55 Words    

Picture credit:   Elena Kalis

Of storms

I.

the wind picked up

at night, swirling of empty nests

and cluttered leaves-

sounds of crying rose,       

reverberating the red-tiled roof

like a ship’s moaning

as it flounders in the unexpected rough sea-

until the trees, bare of songs and frost,

knelt, bowing down in reverence-

in the way of nature

everything passes, including storms.  

II.

the wind picked up

at night, swirling of empty nests

and cluttered pages-

suddenly,

wailing sounds       

reverberated from red-tiled roof-

a lover bemoaning

the quickness and parting of kisses –

wild and sweet-

the trees, bare of songs and frost,

trembled under the moon’s soulful eyes-

the storm passes,

taking everything of hallowed vows-

including ours 

Notes:   I wrote this in two versions based on the weather last night.  The fierce wind knocked out cable connections. 

Posted for : Part I. Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Ella's Edge - Wow!

and Part II. D'verse Poets Pub - Imagist poem

and Friday Flash Fiction - for the G-man - both in 55 words.

Happiness

is finding old photographs
you & me

smiling carelessly 
by beach and island cove  

moments seized & held
like south pearls in farm

smooth

as youthful cheeks, reckless  
of stolen kisses         

dyed-orange wrap & caps
glows like summer sky 

iridescent

on sepia, burnt golden & 
amber, flickering  warm       

as white sands fade, 
falling into dusty albums

except 

me & you  

Posted for Poetry Jam - Happiness and Flash Fiction 55 - For the G-man

picture credit:   here

On autumn's last day

I.    For Flash Fiction Friday 

You smell of sea tide this morning,
Rough, unpinned edges, eager to soar away
Stretching wings in grey-blue sky, hearing only heartbeats from warmer shores

But I am unlike those geese migrating southward 
Season after season, roots dig deeper, leaves huddle closer 
For the last time,  I taste the plump pomegranate seeds you offer me    


II.   For D'verse Poetics

I will wait here by river's edge -
Wrapped in heated blanket of us
Sunlight flickers low in white mist
Maple trees still, breathless statues

As winter drapes like bridal veil 
I will wait here by river's edge -
Writing poems and letters to you
As you sail, wingspan gliding wide  

The days and nights collide like dream -
Icy crystals drops, snow castles -   
As I wait here by river's edge
Writing songs, words flowing like wine 

Ferments the anticipation
My hands weave our pictures and words
Into the emerald-spring frame -- 
Here, I will wait by river's edge


Posted for:   Flash Fiction Friday - Tell a story in 55 words - For the G-man.
And for D'verse Poets Pub - FormforAll - Quarterns - Written in 4 quatrains.

I was driving the 10 lane freeway yesterday and saw a flock of geese flying southward.  Winter, though light, is upon us in the city.   Thanks for the visit.

picture credit:   here

The ghost of you

-moonless night-
not a leaf nor limb
swayed in breeze 

I heard you breathing at the window

-stained ink- 
mug beside empty chair 
and upturned book

At first the goodbye had a lilt to it—
maybe just a couple of months—
but it was a beheading 

-sword slow motion-
crumbling inching-bit,     
i wanted 

quick death



Lines from Ghost Elephant by Jean Valentine


Posted for:   Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Hallow's Edge
and Poetry Jam:   Choices
and Flash Fiction Friday - a post in 55 words - for the G-man 

                                                               picture credit:   here

The red velvet cupcake

fresh salad and pumpkin soup,
my dinner for the last months,
or to be more precise, my diet to be slim as a vine  

autumn leaves are filling the ground -
speckled yellow, dotted golden and papered cheese - 
reminding me of harvest, buttered corn and roasted turkey   

my stomach grumbles with each spoonful,
thinking of cupcakes lining up in the bakeshop -  
chocolates, lemon and most of all, red velvet cupcakes -

"She said that the cupcakes are the best desserts, easy to make and
you don't feel guilty as it is a single serving.  One can be very creative
in its presentation, using flavored icing and toppings."

my finger idly traces the orange peels like broken glass on the table linen 
-- ironic that what is kept away is most often in one's thoughts -- 
sugar temptations, sprinkled or whipped, whisper at every turn 

only the mirror knows my madness,  
with expectations heavy on slim shoulders
I fork the salad greens, pressing down on the craving at every turn.    

"Just two-thirds of the way up is perfect as cupcakes expand when baked, 
and if the cupcake pans are filled any higher, the batter will spill over when baked. 
Any less than two-thirds, and the cupcake won't "dome." 

i found a big pine cone, broken petal and famished rain, fallen star
beneath the needles leaves and maple tree, and I took it inside,
feeling kinship with imperfect beauty  
  

~0~0~0

                                                Dexter theme cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery

her lips quivered with thoughts of red velvet cupcake

topped with whipped cream and cherry syrup --

it was a constant battle between her sugar tooth

and dieting for an hour glass figure to please her fiance 

after three months,  she finally gave up and binged --

the cupcake was sinfully sweeter than his kisses

First post:   D'verse Poets Pub:  Post-modern prose
Second post: Flash Fiction Friday - For the G-Man - A post in 55 words.

picture credit:   here

Of this morning sun and peaches

the sea tide followed you this morning, 
clinging to your hair, dripping of corn and sun 
bursting at the seams with rounded seeds 

the shell case broke open, replete with seeds, 
and for the first time, my tongue tasted morning, 
naked, lush pulp, succulent fruit under bittersweet sun 

nothing prepared me for you, flaming the sun 
sky with words drizzling like apple knotted seeds, 
staining my room forever silky bold, unlike any mornings 

this morning, sun dawned, tinged red of pomegranate seeds


~0~0~0~



She wasn’t petite  nor blushing peach lady.    
Tall with broad arms, sturdy legs, like her Dad
except for soft brown eyes.
Fiercely ambitious, she tackled her career,
like a charging bull.   

But, when he finally proposed after 7 years,
She melted, purring like kitten.                    
Nowadays,  her smile eclipses 
diamond-studded ring which she proudly wears.   

First post:    Posted for D'verse Poets Pub:  Tritina

Second post:   Flash Fiction Friday - A post in 55 words, for the G-man.   An office mate recently got engaged.

Thanks for the visit.



picture credit:   here

Black orchid

Among five daughters,


she was black orchid among roses. 

Deep-purple veins on mid-wife's hands, she believed in destiny.   

Upon meeting him, wanted to marry him

though he was playful with ladies.

No cussing tongue, wild temper, stopped his wandering eye.   

Drama and fireworks were their bed pillows.    

When he unexpectedly died, Grandma withered, 

palest velvet-rose.  


Posted for:   D'verse Poets Pub:  Writing characters 
and Flash Fiction Friday - Write a story in 55 words for the the G-man.    


Picture credit:   here

Dreaming

Photo by Chapala Dmitry

                   she sees

                   dragon-sun rising from the west,  
                   silk-clouds gliding towards earth 

                   time moving backwards,
                   spider webs undulating to sky    

                   youth: wiser and prudent 
                   aged: carefree, daring

                   caught in a dream, 
                   tangled, she took her pills and went back to bed 

                   her nightmares were more bearable
                   than the reality bearing down on her,

                   harsh and unforgiving 

Posted for:   Poets United:   Dream Catcher - Playing with the ideas of dreams/nightmare.

and Flash Fiction Friday -  A story in 55 words for the G-man.  Sorry, I am late.   I was so tired playing lawn garden bowling in the hot (Thursday) afternoon, sponsored by my company.   It was so much fun though ~   

Picture credit:    here 

Words at the tip of my tongue

at the tip of my tongue,
it dances slowly, 
awakening spring bud, 
unfurling pink leaf


it dances slowly
ballerina on tiptoes
unfurling pink leaf 
stretches arms wide open 


ballerina on tiptoes 
like a cocktail glass,
stretches arms wide open
leaps in mid-air, lingering    


like a shaken cocktail,   
awakening taste buds,
to leap in mid-air, then lingers      
at the tip of my tongue

~0~0~0~0~0~0~ 

I prefer the verb        
          to the noun
                when I am
                     with you


                        dripping  
        
                    so slowly
       
               or faster
       as I want to
 or moving up
and     down


as I like to


sweating
cradling hips       
gripping  arms


writhing to music   


at mid-point, adding dashes--


and punctuation points ! !, ending with a sigh~




First post:   D'verse Poets Pub - Pantoum form
Second post:   Flash Fiction Friday -for the G-man - Tell a story in 55 words ~
Shared with Poetry Jam - Verbs    


picture credit:  here

On a Friday morning

    

i drain glass of wine
quickly, 
as you tell me change of plans

masking disappointment,
i smile, lifting your spirit,

outside it rains    
road looks long, 
endless hill of battles,
seesaw of expectations versus reality 


tipping sky grey 


outside, two birds fly,      
wingtips of symmetrical feathers, 
embracing rough wind        


unsteadily,
we reach for each other 
    

Posted for :  D'verse Poets Pub:   Balance
and Flash Fiction Friday - Tell a story in 55 words - For the G-man  - Thanks for the visit. 


picture credit:  here

the road

he waits beside car, turquoise sky, in stone-cobbled streets.

drumming hands to Havana song, he wonders if his knocks will be answered.

sun strikes ground in orange haze, crinkling crooner’s voice.          

it's been over 10 years since he left the country, still wrapped in time capsule.  

suddenly rushing footsteps, door opens, 

music welcoming, embracing him.     

   

Posted for Flash Fiction Friday - tell a story in 55 words.   For the G-man.   We enjoyed an office lunch treat yesterday in the open patio, and listened to a 3-man band from Cuba, singing Spanish songs.

Marian and I collaborated on a piece for Real Toads - 1st year Anniversary Celebration.   This is the first stanza of the road:

    Straining to hear
Broken eggshell pieces on white plate of the day,
    drops of leftover rain
scattered leaves on brown feet of the road--
    bouncing from leaf to leaf
where does one find the path on these highways?
    in surround sound--

Please read the entire poem here.  Thanks for the visit.

picture credit:  here

Like a river

when you arrived,

i didn't know what name to call you 

my eyes were blind,  

yellowed cheeks, a fading blue star        

your touch was 

a cold crystal grape in winter,

but i knew you like the roots

suddenly growing on my feet

arching to taste your skin,  

unripe mango, salted with earth 

i see your face, bright as the sun 

stirring my blood, river deep   

as i write my verse, 

untie my bow and cut my fears 

let me drift towards your voice,

warm red wine, storm-washed shore   

you have searched for me 

for the longest time  

tell me now:  

i am yours 

~0~0   The second part is my offering for Flash Fiction Friday  (55 words) for G-Man    ~0~0

puffy red-rimmed eyes,
clothes, all black, her favorite color
telling me her daughter’s father passed away
yesterday


   lingering cancer  
           wife and 2 young children    
                  funeral  is this Saturday 


her adult daughter had quietly received news. 
he had left them years ago, when she was 


  doe-eyed lass
          blissfully naïve,
                 and pregnant. 
  
forgiveness came like a river.



Posted for :  D'verse Poets Pub:   Ars Poetica :  Poems about Poetry
and Flash Fiction Friday :  Tell a story in 55 words.  Welcome back G-Man ~ Based on a conversation with my co-worker this morning.


picture credit:   here

A broken heart

unfulfilled promises
lies and empty words
a broken heart


it happens everyday
they say


but, how do you move on ? 


how do you mend
a broken heart?




you can't


you live with it


scars, freckles, sorrow, bitterness, regrets


and write songs,
and pen poems,
painting, sculpting,  


until you feel the rain falling on your cheeks

                                               Al Green- How Can You Mend A Broken Heart 


Posted for:    Poets United:   Thursday Think Tank:   Music
and Flash Fiction Friday:   Tell a story in 55 words - for the G-man


Lyrics:   here
Picture credit:   here

How far to walk

gazing stoically,
eyes tired, hands wrinkled
from daily toil
she carries on slim shoulders


he grips phone like lifeline
Sunday’s conversation routine
about their daughter, his struggling
business, needs of her own family 
 

folding creased $20 dollar,
she slips into black sturdy boots
wondering how far she has to walk
before she can go home.

Posted for:   Poetry Jam - Internal and External Limits
and Flash Fiction Friday - Tell a story in 55 words.   For the G-man.     

Today, March 8,  is the 101st anniversary of International Women's Day. "It is a day to honour how women's stories are woven into the fabric of the world.  So let us mark this day by finding ways to ensure women and girls’ access to education, healthcare, jobs, and credit, and to protect their right to live free from violence."

picture credit:    Adde Adesokan

Asleep

color of morning is white
and cold


freezing rain falls on her face unheeded
eyes closed,     


she hears crashing
waves of sea,  sun-drenched words 


leaping, reaching her core in 
unending refrain


she moves closer, marveling
connection 


the string, she cannot cut 
not even in death.


so she sleeps
bubble-wrapped in marble,  


waiting for his rebirth.

Posted for Poets United:   Think Tank:   Rebirth - I read some of the posts and thought I will take another route to the theme.        
And Flash Fiction Friday 55:   Tell a story in 55 words - For the G-Man.   Thanks for the visit.

"In 1987 I was asked by his Widow Christina to carve a figure called "Asleep" in Carrara marble as his gravestone. " 

Artist: Peter Schipperheyn, born Melbourne Australia 1955-  Title:  "Asleep"  carved 1987 Dimensions: 460 mm in height by 2020 mm in length by 800 mm in depth [life-size figure].  Medium:Carrara Statuario Marble. Present location: Mt Macedon Cemetery, Mt Macedon. Victoria.

Story and view of the sculpture in another angle:

http://www.peterschipperheyn.com/asleep.htm   


picture source:   http://imgur.com/gallery/BeefO