Come my love to the roots where snakes dance. Legless muscles wrap scales in circles across pine bark, scratching the imagined itch that has nothing to do with skin. They wait for nymphs to skip blissfully by, ignorant of danger then swing from branches high-attained and snap fangs into fur scalps soft on slippery tongues.…
Fog deep by dawn shrouds gold sun in amethyst rugs. She flourishes through wintry air smatterings of loose threads that weave with hoarfrost crystals to tapestry the Anemoi visible to mind and vexed skin. Toffee sighs blow. Non-finalist entry in this contest: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2831195-National-Poetry-Month-April-30th-noguestI will fully admit, there doesn't seem to be much going on here…
Lay me upon rhododendrons burgundy with blood long ago spilled by my grandmother’s knees on flowerbed bricks, on kitchen linoleum, on hospital bed rails. Lay me upon weeping azaleas and day (deprived) lilies holding the final strands of her hair within their roots. I will celebrate her life at the last with their death, for…
Shrub roses raspberry and spiderwortpurple by the locked garden gateonce colored rainbow our irises, but since my sentence started, I find smiling buds distasteful.I don't want to spit on their blooms,but dark clouds close in like wallssuffocating my view. It’s possible I could let the sunshine in…through fence picket prison bars.Tunnel vision was fated by…
We stir up sand running at speed to climb clouds towards a milky galaxy we’ve labeled the ethereal Heaven. Yet what do we use to achieve our goal, but plastic supplies stored in polyester bags. Eternally, we remain ill-equipped to face the ex-wife when we keep fingers laced with her abuser. Man-made madness so consumes…
Yesterday, Nereids opened sleep-blessed eyes in subaquatic crystal caves, not knowing they’d never return. Yesterday, Nereus washed his hands of his daughters, sent them in mists and drifts over selkie rocks to play with the seal-maidens where he did not hear their incessant laughter reminding him of shared grief. Yesterday, A lunar mind hemmed in…
Eldritch brambles climb the sky leaving no root-work behind to trace their trail. Only a gale hovers weaving in and around a thorn belly so the elderly doe sees but a friend, a rain cloud to bring her drink again to hydrate shoulders still housing organs fighting to live. One careful step, next, another. She…
I found you cold, full of hot air that could never warm your skin, only the sky red in both our eyes for lack of pulse beneath a rhyolite veneer. Not blood but glass cut through our veins, made us rough to exfoliate others’ skin. They became better for the knowing of us. Our lessons…
A marked path, pristine, sterile dirt finally buries all trash, litter, mutated monkey bones. Synthetic beauty of art and architecture: an acceptable loss to bandage over ever-bleeding deep human scars of utility, efficacy, and convenience that forever plagued the autotrophs. The last artist loses himself in fog, enfolding his essence between ancestral trees. He finds…
Lipstick stains on deciduous bark endure, undetectable under the blush of umber notes hung on stiff arms ready to be torn by the wind, drifted down a creek like a microcosm of the oceanic message in a bottle. Love-letters are effaced by silt and diluted fish filth if not found at the precise moment characters…
National Poetry Writing Month
Keeping the world immersed in stanza.
About fantastical places and other stuff
"The silence of the night awakens my soul"
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Saralyn Caine Poetry 