Summer trotted up the stairs, mid-afternoon
Smelling of patched memory
Weaving its way, precariously,
Out of distant, neatly cursive clouds
Spaced out like Dickinson's carefully meted verse
On the arched, gray-blue south-east.
The pale pink of a birthday bouquet
Crept out of alstroemerias
And drove off to the grocers
Looking to barter -
Uninvited affection, for a morsel of cheap hope.
The memory of a moonlit night
Stirred the gathering gloom
Glowing ghostly, like the struggling sun
Overtaken by thick, steel-gray, coastal city-fog.
Memory - spiked with citrus vodka, go-karts and disillusionment.
Truth made a reckless leap,
From glossed lips to a curly haired shoulder
And huddled, whimpering like a hurt puppy
In a corner of wood-brown, insecure, escapist eyes.
Dashed dreams were wiped on a napkin
discarded hopelessly, at the lunch table.
April 23rd & 24th, 2011.
Smelling of patched memory
Weaving its way, precariously,
Out of distant, neatly cursive clouds
Spaced out like Dickinson's carefully meted verse
On the arched, gray-blue south-east.
The pale pink of a birthday bouquet
Crept out of alstroemerias
And drove off to the grocers
Looking to barter -
Uninvited affection, for a morsel of cheap hope.
The memory of a moonlit night
Stirred the gathering gloom
Glowing ghostly, like the struggling sun
Overtaken by thick, steel-gray, coastal city-fog.
Memory - spiked with citrus vodka, go-karts and disillusionment.
Truth made a reckless leap,
From glossed lips to a curly haired shoulder
And huddled, whimpering like a hurt puppy
In a corner of wood-brown, insecure, escapist eyes.
Dashed dreams were wiped on a napkin
discarded hopelessly, at the lunch table.
April 23rd & 24th, 2011.
Such Sharpness comes with experience and reality and a lot of prowess in telling them.
ReplyDeleteGod bless.