When Darkness Comes (Daylight): Poem 3


Daylight friezes trim heights,

Stony edifices still standing

Ancient decaying battles,

Fading listless gray above

Technicolor tile mosaics.
 

When darkness comes daylight
 

Photoshopped to his taste,

Scrumptiously thin-thin waifs

Adorn full fashion billboards,

Eye-catching corners round

Apartment ledge jumpers.
 

When darkness comes daylight
 

Poised for the leap, these

Downers decorate the city

Like gargoyle guardians,

Villains to pop protagonists

Puffing smokey smile rings.
 

When darkness comes daylight
 

When sirens slice vulnerable

Sleep like death opened out,

Who can hear the whispers,

Tunneled mice scampering,

Twisting babies suffocating?
 

When darkness comes daylight
 

In frozen wincing skies hidden

Behind baby blue blinds drawn

The day’s delusional dreaming,

But when the darkness comes 

Noble neon lights us illuminate:
 

When darkness seizes day’s night

Small Favors

  
Small favors, thank goodness for them, like finding a dollar on the sidewalk

or pulling up just in time to nab the last parking spot.

Still underpaid and broke, struggling, the dollar shines like a 

ribboned gift nevertheless.

And yes, a spot probably opens up for those who wait, 

but all drivers treasure time.

Larger small favors look like winning the raffle at the company picnic

or an impromptu sparkling conversation out of the blue while 

perusing the nonfiction aisle at the bookstore.

Unsuspecting, like those bracelets.

My beloved’s gift, the one I wore til it broke as I shed the last

shred of clothing, naked before a lover’s gaze,

my panties catching its piney speckled beads

and shattering its thin knotty hold on my ankle.

The wood bead’s dull clink on the ceramic tile motel floor. 

While the other, a punishing thick relentless reminder, black 

plastic prisoner’s promised ring, cut into pieces, stabbed in shouting outness,

that one that wrongfully shrunk skin and tamped tibial boxes, receding like

the mote of my motivation, and then gone, freed–but only fake freedom.

I cut it at its malignant root, vengefully scissoring its mad fastening.

And the final ring to replace the broken ones, a gift, simple plastic beaded 

black, silver and white, sweet, puerile and true to salve the wound

and psyched out phantom circle chain.

A charm, a trinket, a child’s delight, and one small favor thoughtful and big–

infinite to me. 

 

Writing Poems Amid Artificial Sounds of Trains and Falling Snow While Pipes Burst and Birthday Boys Skated

  

The train traveled far today so the whistle sounds faint
tired, perhaps, of the snow-muffled shrill of un-restraint.
 
A cool stove lay undisturbed, cool iron clean, all the day
while the ground leaked, forming my father’s bed a lake.
 
Two daughters slept and awoke to buy birthday boy gifts,
then flew home the helicopter, remote, controlled, adrift.
 
A husband fished for answers in a plumber’s busy way
only for rejection’s sake he pleaded dearly for his case.
 
For tomorrow can right itself in rhythmic steel drumming
and pulse below a calm repose in boredom’s humming.
 
For neither burst of pipe nor creativity’s pace may shatter
the week end’s closing call to the summer’s opening gala.
 
The hours longer and shorter still when poetry awakes
in bed the daylight long with trains, pipes, snow, skates.
 
An inspired screen tortured hard frozen bits slow falling
while thunderous trains traveled ever on, never stalling.
 
Words dry up, writing sours, turned to poetical blather
time to gather up my wits and return to other matters.

(and so ended my poetry half marathon)

 

Late Awakening (Haiku)

  
I awoke too late.
The alarm clock in my dreams
Dripped down a table.

 

Photo Credit:  Salvadordaliclocks.com

I took the poetry half marathon (thepoetrymarathon.com) challenge yesterday, which started at 6 a.m. The object was to write one poem an hour for 12 hours. I underestimated the difficulty of the task, especially with so much life interfering, but did end up finishing and producing 12 poems, which I will post for the next 12 days.

The day did not start out auspiciously with a late awakening after a tough time falling asleep the night before (might have been the late night chocolate bar–just a guess). So I had to start off with a bit of a cheat as I was pressed for time (Haiku is still poetry, no?).