Six word story: Graffiti"I understand statues, but why people?"
ghostingthe moon brims overspilling tears ofpearl manna acrossyour hair.your skin is blueporcelain veinsstretched beneathpale festivities of flesh.we are stuck insunday best smilesand i am lightning-strucksmitten and ashenburnt out by yourgrace and by yourilluminated ship-in-a-bottle eyes.i'm sorryfor the ache inmy ribcage thatmeans you're gone.
the fifth dimensioni am lying on the grassin a suburban yardthinking about biologyand chemistry but not physicsand wondering why how whatexists in a fifth dimensionthat nobody sees.they told me i should think lessbecause it overheats my brain -or maybe that was a book i read.i stumbled across a mindpressed into a diary as icleared out an attic - dust motesrained like skylarks fromthe pages, spiralling upand out on sunbeam-elevatorssending spikes of silveracross grey city skylines.imagine - a word filledwith power and beauty andhurt and worry and magicand everything and nothingall at once. a word thatmakes the morphine of mortalityand trembles like the stringsof an old violin. i knowsuch a word. come closer.i will whisper it as gold dustin your ear.imagine-
editi am reciting resuscitating my poem.it's been quiet for too long.it needs to breathe grieve.i am rewriting rewiring my song.i'll turn golden wings to nevermoresteach the words to fly
ninashe rose from her bench in the cornerand tangoed her way through the grassin delicate tiptoes of thunder.she waved as the people went past.and conscious of how small the windowshe whispered her tale to the trees,and let loneliness speak to the songbirds:she sang poetry out to the bees.with a tear like a pearl in the sunshineand a cedar-wood hand in her palm,she smiled at the beggar-boy's musicand broke the black sparrow's heart.
saturnineyou and i areoil on wateror maybe debrisof colliding planets.we come togetherlike waves on rock;you the ocean,i the sandstone.you have signedyour life awayon my bones. inthe library, withthe lead piping, youmurdered a child andcame back with a witch.everything has gravity,even moths. see, howthe light is drawn tothe night butterfly. it's allin the eye of the beholder.two days ago thatsooty insect was amber.now it is replenishedas it passes through firebecoming a dust smearmoving to a new levelof being.you told me you believedin reincarnation. but, yousaid, with a good life, youdo not become more complex.instead you shrink - it isgod's gift to the burdened.man tobeast tobird tomoth.shapeshifter shaman. youalways were a loki of atrickster. your coyote breathwinds volatile on my earas you whisper the meaningof the universe into my dreams.gravity exists to facilitatecollision; collision exists toend gravity. circles withincircles of heavy conce
never let a poet nearin the echelons of the forestmelancholy shimmers;cerulean skies echoing a soliloquy.the trees sing, mellifluous,rejoicing in camaraderie with a zephyriridescent voyager.mountains stand purple oligarchycaverns and chasms open beneath;phantasmagoria of stars imprisoned.swallow-song skips, swan slip-skatestourmaline lake coiled belowpath scattered auburn winding by.carnelian-caught wing flickers moth-lightthrough silken-streaked caliginosity;calligraphy in cliff-crests.lyrical lullaby, luminescent fungiruby-capped, or yellow whispers of pollensonnets etched in spring-song.
purlieui am spreading out wideto the range of my bordersthinning as i cover alarger surface area(it's always that answer)i am roaming a widening habitatmy own safari park extendinginto auburn-grey suburbia.i will roar at the businessmenand prowl outside the park.i steal clothes from the washing linesand leave them strewn across the roadlike a trail leading to a teenager'slove-nest in the bushes. i want to watchas the people frown.i am painting this town purplewith fear and i am having the timeof my life in captivity. the onlyway to escape a cage is to thinkoutside that ingot-barred box.look, fireworks! that's myimagination burning up as ithits the atmosphere. now i'mlimitless. to infinity and beyond-until my eyes spring shut againto the sound of deaf keys in afriendly hand.