I did not know it then, that I would stop the drinking, meet a brown eyed European, make a child, stay within reasonable proximity; none of that seemed likely as I lay on my back in the low springy bushes planted along the intersection crossing points of Fitzgerald Avenue. It was a few hours after I’d started on…
Category: Poetry
ZERO HOLD
You don’t know hesitancy: the speckles, for a moment, stop an endless blinking canopy. Eight legs always find me A planet in the clearing, a sun switched off and blanket holes. A near good memory for most Who really do not know. © A2Kdavis (K Davis) 2016
Ghost Story
…out of it last night cold on the deck rocking the chair to forget. I saw stars and thought, how small they are against the sky, and me so large. I sank back and blue rivulets of smoke found the gaps in my hand. Today, I’m nowhere, a Shade pacing the floor,…
The Nurse’s Hand
How gentle the nurse’s hand, at the back and under the knee; how gentle the nurse’s words as they press in on panic. They put the flowers just so, pat the sheets so the chin is at rest, take the weight and touch the brow. They know the patients know that death is at the…
360º
I look down at my feet sometimes stretched out on the couch my ten knobs, the high arch, the ocean behind or the curtains, or the wall with recent paintings and the works Mingus gives me to show his love and devotion and as I look out along my legs and see a giant relative…
The Match
You lit me up A stroke of a match The flame Needed warmth To light my way forward Enough to fall off the edge of the world I fell apart Gathered up the broken pieces My hands cracked Trembled Placed it back together Shows I’ve been looking in the wrong place I have no books…
Man catches fire
I had the nerve to talk and the presence of mind to hear the reply, which pierced the ear and fell and swirled about the entrails. I could not understand, but I saw a smile and a shade of pale skin glow, and now you’re down on me like a shadow. Maybe I…
4th sonnet
Our star-struck eyes first met as the sun cracked the dawn sky, and I, long lost to the mist, fell for the radiance of your smile. You lacked nothing I ever wanted; you eclipsed the glorious day, and the darkness fell as the shadow crossed your pallid brow. You turned away, and I’m burnt…
from Antithetical: Poet as Worm #2
* I was going to say compare the aborting of emotion richness complexity and compare a pop song to the symphony, Haydn, Mozart then Ludwig, Mahler, fleshing it out to over an hour and more, when I realised we sit that, twice, and longer, in theatres, and Beethoven is Kubrick, or Spielberg, you don’t have…
from Antithetical: Poet as Worm
* It is good, yes?, to be reliable, and bold, like the engine, feed coal, soil, Mr. Diesel’s modified; or a coil humming particles, muons excitation in the gravity of time pulling everyone wired so, a round sub-molecular redundancies: nought; the armed guardsmen, the drivers; class; system; Courts, of Papacies, and vested interests; sound ideology…
Untitled
They tell me I have PTSD I look up at the paint peeling on the ceiling I do not believe them.
The Old Reporter
One leg up and one down, two fingers at the keys. It was the way, then, to tell the world about frozen lakes and big winds; how the officer was a crook (or so they said) We sat in rows when we were there, and the sports boys told a good tale, swung imaginary clubs…