I finger the intricate stitches

of love remembered and worn.

Dusk of time crawls through

windows of my soul

in silver shaded hours.

Silhouette of her love lingers,

darkness of night lifts

as bathed moonlight fills

chambers of my heart.

I sift her spirit through

hourglasses of faded time,

embracing her image

as I rock solemnly

in her worn rocking chair.

Fresh jasmine of her scent

soothes my skin.

Tears no longer line

my brittle heart

as I gather the love

inside her shadow.

Fragmented echoes

hear the bell

of final call.

     Eight legs.  Each counted, gingerly.  He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not.  Last, the body.  He loves me.  I place him gently in the tank I have for him.  It's filled with all the fauna of his native land.  It's important he's comfortable.  There's a small branch there.  Currently, he hides behind it.  My boy is shy, just like the Pointer Sisters sing.  The tune hums in my head, almost involuntarily.  I show him the fly then.  Grasped between tweezers.  It's important the fly be alive.  He likes it that way.  I lay the fly gently in it's tank.  "You're welcome!"

I'm fixing a hole,

revealing my soul,

born from the roots- long past.

A self pit prophecy,

trapped, full of blood in rivalry.

The destroyer, disguised-

pinned across her heroine's chest.

Protection has worn the necessity,

on engraved fissures of heredity.

I sift across pages held; listed

on internal bookshelves, to turn to,

in, and against myself. Looking deep-

a search of remedy. Amongst this distortion (eventually) I find my pain in burrows,

to suppress what lies within

my spurious trench. A reaction- I jump in.

Feet take off, to sudden delusions

of certainty. Protective possessions

are hit broadside~ I discover them

furled up, obsessively tight.

Sources of deception; in review,

I reveal that tripped reality

under classified sheets; exposing

the browbeaten-double-dealers

in bullet vests. The fervent heat

blisters my chest. I feel it knocking, an unwanted guest. Have you guessed?

You would be surprised....

it's the No. 1 cause of homocide.

Charged with instincts, can

attack at risk. Except, in a case-

every pat down and frisk,

it solves one; the crime

reveals the damage done. And still, regrettably lurking. All genes aside,

let the blood dry. I must remember,

it's more assumption than a bearer of deed.

A villain's contortion; but

who planted the seed?

~Jessi (poem)

#freeverse

#funwithrhyme

I drink a cocktail of moonlight.

Steep the canyons,

oh so neat.

Left behind a pony~

short legs (about 4),

lug'n its cargo~

still, I'll take the rail

on the rocks,

or I'll be fixing with

Death in the Afternoon.

Straight up, and

stemmed with intentions.

Drenched in dark.

I'm reach'n for my limit,

in a twist

I hear the free flow'n falls;

sip it up,

take it in.

Still~ my usual,

I stay dry; bit fashioned.

But here in this moment,

I'll just drink another cocktail of moonlight.

~Jessi (poem and image)

#nightdwellers #beginningline

#freeverse

#playonwords

    They sat there silently for a few moments. He stared at the space between them. She was only inches away but he knew that he couldn’t reach her. He wanted to say something, needed to say something, but he didn’t know what to say. Anything he said would be too little, too late. The space between them felt infinite. Suddenly she grabbed his hand in her smaller one and laid them in the center of the stone bench, a bridge connecting the two. He quickly looked first at their entwined hands, and then up into her face. She had once been beautiful. Golden brown eyes and skin, dark, untamed hair, and a lively expression that left an impression that was not quickly forgotten. She was a shadow of that woman. He could not bring himself to look at her, her skin now pale and sickly, her hair matted, her eyes full of pain. “I want you,” she said in a soft, hushed voice. His eyes widened in shock, but he still couldn’t look into hers. He was afraid of what he would see there. Or maybe of what she would find in his. “I want you to be the reason I wake up in the morning, because tomorrow isn’t enough anymore.” And this, more than anything else she’d said, terrified him. He knew that when she had talked about it before she wouldn’t actually go through with it. She was too ambitious, had too many dreams. She was living in the hope that a brighter tomorrow was around the corner. And now that too was gone. He looked up. She was staring at him as though he was her anchor to this world. Her eyes met his and he saw an all-consuming sadness. So much goddamn sadness. Her eyes bore into his, searching for answers to unasked questions. Answers that he couldn’t give. He glanced down again at her hand wrapped around his. When had it become so fragile? A flick and it would crumple. She had once been the strongest person he knew. He made as to hold her wrist in his hand, and then saw the scars. She jerked her hand away and hid it in her pocket, staring him down. Daring him to mention it. Perhaps she had just been strong for too long. He turned back to her eyes. Her heart wrenching eyes. He looked past her at Ethan, who was animatedly telling a story to a few friends, and their eyes met. No, he didn’t love her. But he would still hold her while she cried, comfort her when it seemed the whole world had turned its back on her. He knew that there were some wounds that would never heal, scars that you could never possibly see, but he also knew that she was broken and he wanted to help fix her, help her because he knew that she couldn’t help herself. She saw his answer in his eyes and something resembling a smile flickered across her face. He loved her enough to believe that if saving her meant sacrificing his own happiness he would do it in a heartbeat.

Knowledge opens the shards

of frozen ice to reveal reason why

mind is helplessly chained to wall,

unleashes boundaries from pen -

a new awakening of amber glow

as sun filters mind breaking shackles,

opening up knowledge to consume

the ancient stones, infancy of truths.

Abandoned harmony of life threads dance

kneeling in balance of life bursting forth

like ripe, dripping peaches of wisdom,

resonating on night wind – savage possession

kindled with pain and pleasure entwined,

budding wisdom and time-worn realities,

maze of verity cursed by thirst of all-knowing

reaching for promise in distant starlit skies,

yearning to share bounty of far flung vistas.

Knowledge drives wisdom on wings of fancy,

breathing beneath tangled debris of mind

following different roads to same destination,

fulfilling fiery wishes of uncloaked secrets.

Mystery is disguised by masks of seeking

the bruises of battle scars leading the way,

cherished thoughts of enlightenment unlock

puzzles of mind, opening clear view to lost images.

Windows of light glimmer throughout the denseness,

healing begins and filters through opening mind,

a cocoon awakening to that which you seek

in moonlit sonatas sharing what is meant to be.

Knowledge is not about learning alone but sharing

wisdom imparted in simplicity before submitting

to the mindless grave, watching knowledge march on.

Addicted to

writing,

I shake poetry

out of my sleeves.

Drunk with

celestial parade

of shiny words,

tumbling into

rising sun,

praying to

the muse hiding

behind me

in black voids

of rejection.

Time down drain

of moneyless pit,

coded language

that only writers

understand.

Roaring visions

and echoes

resonating,

seeing the world

from my perspective

without winning

or losing.

Mood changing

poetry therapy

polished trances

as I crave

the high

that only writing

can bring.

I drink of it

deeply in

vertigo

of love.

Lifted into

the glass prison

Rows of silk and satin inmates 

Some hanging

Some hanging

by their threads

Face-pressed windows

Potted nightshades 

Dark red siren lights 

Sitting down at a table

Ordered a cookie and Coke

Your face clawed by tears

Stared back

 I soak in the darkness of empty phrases

mighty tempest dwelling in my head

skies opening to storms that rage

unharnessed fury of mind in a cage

awareness tumbling in staggering words

solemn ink spatters verses on blank paper

unsteady rhymes fall off my edges

shell burst of fury leaving remnants behind

impaled on pen, unspoken verbs thrust forth

tears of blotted shadows leave no traces

ripped pages, one bleeding word at a time

empty mirrored thoughts echo despair

inscribed messages escape from the storm

sentiments unfolding, crackling in wind

voiceless wordsmith pens ivory words.