Unshackling the Aftermath

those steel cages

they lowered the bar

along with the boom

now I limbo under

sub-basement expectations

while my anticipations –

once tenacious

if not effervescent –

sink

in their cement shoes.

 

those concertina’d fences

they sliced the ligaments

tethering light under my feet

now I stoop under

chains draped across

crumpled wings

while aspirations fizzle,

fireworks damped

in grey drizzling doubt.

 

“you will never…”

they swore under oath

razing fledgling sprouts of inspiration

straining toward Siberian sun

ad absurdum.

now I excavate cremated élan

sifting through visions in ruins

while I put the lie

to their premature obituary

stargaze with impunity

 

dare to dream again.

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Tarry and Feather

I hit send

and perch on pins

determined not to linger

in the knotted shoulder interval

between my accelerated pulses.

through the fissures in cyberspace

I smell the acrid plumes

  • your smoke signals

fuming in fumes.

you fan them furiously

horrified that I may hear

that detector blast –

its caustic accusatory bleat.

 

I hit send

and tuck my limbs

careening o’er rollercoaster descent

braiding lost stanzas

of breath between

wind-torn tresses

as they lash

my puckered cheeks.

beyond the shuttered sash

of the hurricane’s eye

I glimpse the tiger claws

  • unsheathed sentinels

steeling your heart.

you pounce and pad

lest I palpate the panic

as it lacerates

peels the sclera from

mis ojos llorando.

 

I hit send

and pluck an achromatic dirge

from the frayed threads

of our woven unravelling.

yanked through thirsty tears

in the fabric of spacetime

I echo within the repercussions

  • your tortoise shelled saturninity

a caterwauling sonic boom.

you beat a phantom retreat

the envy of Custer’s cavalry

while I reel, Virginia like

across the dust marbled pages,

script unscripted.

 

I hit send

Guest Barista Aurora Phoenix-Beauty Prevails

My most recent piece that the Go Dog Go baristas have shared. Be sure to stop by and check out all of their tasty concoctions.

Go Dog Go Café

Tonight’s surreptitious peek

Through steel barred window

Reveals hazy soft horizon

Rosy wisps at the treeline

Reflected on a curl of razor wire

Cruel unforgiving implement

Impervious to beauty

Yet passes it along.


Aurora Phoenix is a wordsmithing oxymoron. Staid suburbanite cloaks a badass warrior wielding weapon grade phrases. Read more of her confabulations at Insights from “Inside.”

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Horse Hockey

that dead horse I keep beating

resurrects, unrepentant

a riderless tyrant

bleating with shrill nasality

its mulish and woebegone

doggedness

cloning the nine lives

of multitudinous

cat herds.

sheepish,

I chew off

my hooked tail,

await

  • hibernating –

regeneration.

Guest Barista Aurora Phoenix- Heaven Winks

My most recent guest piece at the warm and welcoming Go Dog Go Cafe. Stop by and share a cup of camaraderie.

Go Dog Go Café

Stardust flutters earthward

Snowfall it’s clever disguise

Grounded, glitters

Heavens wink in sparkles


Aurora Phoenix is a wordsmithing oxymoron. Staid suburbanite cloaks a badass warrior wielding weapon grade phrases. Read more of her confabulations at Insights from “Inside.”

View original post

Bitch, You’re In Prison

they said

bitch, you’re in prison

as if

this most salient of facts

jump-suited in sallowing orange

had, even for a moment

escaped my attention

in situation inescapable,

conferring status inhuman.

 

they snarled

bitch, you’re in prison

when I dared suggest,

with temerity

unbefitting caged station,

conversational decorum

contravening jailhouse crudity,

because after all

what do you expect here?

 

they scoffed

bitch, you’re in prison

when I longed

for scintillating discourse

or cerebral stimulation

in lieu of

drama-mongering gossip

and mind-numbing TV,

indicative that jello-brain

is indeed the goal.

 

they guffawed

bitch, you’re in prison

when I scribbled

angsted dreams

upon torn paper scraps

quilled with the clots

of my spurting soul,

mocking the futility

of artistic aspirations.

 

they assert

bitch, you’re in prison

social stratus

lower than dirt

on a slithering snake belly,

cessation of upward mobility

death of a worthwhile future

deadpanned fait accompli