stopped by aunt bea’s to deliver some costco items she had asked for i told aunt bea that i had had a very interesting conversation with an elderly woman who was in one of those electric shopping carts the kind with a small basket in front which seemed to me to be ill-suited for a warehouse market a market that generally sells supersize items and that basket couldn’t have held more than two or three of anything but we had a nice visit however i said to aunt bea i still can’t figure out why she just didn’t order the items online and have them delivered aunt bea smiled and said maybe she wasn’t shopping for any particular item but for what you provided
sometimes when a fever runs high and i am alone in my bed all my fears swirling in my head creating such dread i would swear i feel your gentle hands wiping my brow and speaking softly that all will be well and that i am not alone
the night has found your dreams and returned them to you you need not wander alone along the shore of expectation skipping stones of desire into a murky sea come lie with me before the dawn touches your lips and before the sun tolls the noon day bell breathe in the beauty of the gift of a day with love
i see you in the night sky outlined in a pattern of stars i hear your voice when the wind blows through the tall pines i feel your lips against mine when the rain falls gently in the spring and yet i feel alone as i walk from day to day a shadow cast by my own yesterdays
my hands pass through each dream as i reach out moist fog lingering only for a moment then evaporating into the ether leaving me standing alone with my prayer book turned to a page without words
fragrant whiffs of music
from his yard sale saxophone
caught a breeze
and sailed across the field
to call me one last time
before he heads back
for final conversations
with family and friends
afraid of being alone
when his voice
is the only one
to be heard
now he says
he’s got no children
something the first wife said to them
made them feel unwelcomed
even when the welcome mat was out
so now he’s tired of trying
to have conversations
when no one’s listening
better to just pack up
and head home
before
more
snow
comes
the music box
has a secret
it will whisper
it to you
in its tune
somewhere in this room
was the beginning of a grave
a small shallow home
in the earth
a place of rest
for a small child
the music box
spends its days alone
no one to play with
no one to abuse it
a jury of her peers
said she alone
was guilty
but the betrayals
of a teenage mother
no money
no lover
no family
no time
no sleep
she
a l o n e
This poem represents my third response to the third challenge series between Jade and I. This challenge is somewhat different in that the prompt is now an audio prompt. Each poet provides the other with five instrumental songs (so that the song’s words do not interefere with the poet’s) from which the poet is to write a poem. Jade has written her first response which can be found here.
hold your breath
and do not move
the scent of death
is in the air
a strong fragrance
so alluring in night
when you’re alone
with your tears
paging through memories
as if history
could be willed
to change
with your thoughts
the mesmerizing scent
seems to flow beneath your feet
embracing
crawling
up your body
reaching for your mind
trying to close-off
all thoughts
of
tomorrow
the sand of the sahara
fears no man
nor pay homage
to graven images
on walls of up-scale malls
nor will it listen to your
whimper of
but what can i do
for it is the undefeated army
that marches on your cities
and villages
salting not only the earth of carthage
but every parcel of land in its wake
and it shall not stop
until you wake from your sleep
and see that one man is never alone
there is always another
standing in the shadow of fear
hidden from your view
within the ancient ruins
of political rhetoric
but you
you
do not hear
the timeless voices of the desert spirits
imploring you to listen
to see the vision of the future
when all that you will know
will be sand
sand
holding the ashes
of every conqueror of this land
and every dreamer
who chose
not
to
act
Read Between the Minds 