I Prefer Not To.
i thought
that you could see me
through the lens
which rend your heart
the foment
of foreboding heed
that sought
to play your part
with every waning
flaxen tide
thus waxing
unquashed tears
comprised
of unseen sorrows
as they fall
into arrears
this blood yields not
to yarrow
‘neath the fields
of monarch sky
the piercing
of your arrow’s wound
seals fast
our love’s demise
Unpublished/Original work
Each entry should be more than 50 words but less than 500
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Submissions will be accepted: 3/1/2017 through 3/31/2017
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View original post 39 more words
once
i walked
a lone procession
in the blossoming
wake of a cherry
bloom daydream
lost
in thought
as threnodies
cried peals
of Zeus’wrath
helpless
in a gaze
transfixed
counting down
each drowning
footstep
tread upon
tremulant flesh
yet shone anew
as our minds
fell behind
racing hearts
failing
to bridge
the frigid waters
on that day
when i long held
truth
as the subtle sky
absconded
with your song
“oh look!
a pretty* girl”
*subjective
don’t assume so much
my ~friend~
why not instead
show respect
and treat her
like a human being
use your brain**
**the one in your head
think of her experience
endlessly accosted
by lotharios
on dalliance
decency
staunchly objects
to your crass
objectification
luckily
there is yet a bus
awaiting
at the local station
destination: evolution
join the ranks
of humankind
should you choose
to thus forgo
please know
you are no friend
of mine
whatever
i have known
in thought
through observation
has trickled
through the
hollow holes
that hearken
solstice winds
in shapes
and sounds
from profound
to mundane
demanding
their address
effortlessly
spent
like pleasantries
appeasing
pastime purpose
presently
with serpent’s tongue
through absent blessings
fed to flames
then cleft in twain
on the overhung edge
of our sanity
dissimulated
a tragic isolation beautifully expressed by Ryan Kelton
would it be so bad,
he asks himself
on another night
spent like a thousand
nights before,
to be alone,
to lock oneself away
from a world
full of cuts and bruises;
thorns and thistles–
all the hit and runs
of modern love,
they are meaningless
in the end; they amount
to nothing.
tonight, the stars
shine brilliantly
over a city
full of people
with hollow chests;
they sit low
in the sky like fruit–
you could almost
reach up
and grab them
to bring them down
to fill the hole
in your chest
where your heart
once was–
but all
you get
are shadows filled
with what was,
and is lost.
1/30/17
Beautifully composed uncertainty from the wonderful Lois E. Linkens
there sits the cornerstone.
in the summer,
its almost entirely swamped by weeds.
the autumn winds
see them off,
and golden leaves tumble over dry rock
like acrobats
in a dried-out circus.
the winter frost crackles over,
and melts in the icy midday sun –
but nobody campaigns.
springtime summons
her clearest skies,
breathing new warmth
into the frozen stone.
i wait for the first daisy,
and smile
when it sprouts.
i know the first daisy will come,
it always does.
but with you –
with you, i do not know.
yet still, i wait.
suffering
is not
quantifiable
pray not
think it
quaint
never
is it
justifiable
it is
only
pain
diminishing
the human spirit
with every moment
passed
dare not
impose
upon its merit
lest ye be
a heartless
ass
arid mist
of rhapsodic
waxing
long sought
to dismantle
the essence
only to reveal
its Gestalt
assigning
attenuous tenets
composed of pretense
to valence
resigned
but love validates
existence
through open commune
of fluid mind
with trust
respect and
shared silence
nascent intimacy
airs triumphant
while astute observation
inherently deferent
endures
for these are the matters
of consequence revered
Luna was a neurotic cat. A stunning, graceful, talkative, angling, gorgeous, Russian Blue, neurotic cat. She was my first cat. Not accounting for the numerous kittens any one of us had brought home with the intent of them becoming a part of our dysfunctional family (if you’ll pardon the redundancy). Only to have several weeks or so go by until one day my mother would announce that it wasn’t working out as she had hoped so she had to “give it back”. It wasn’t until years later in the most tragic foreshadowing of the century did we come to learn what she really meant by her ambiguous words. To my utter horror and dismay, it turned out she would callously drive these poor little innocent kittens out to some remote spot where she felt they would no longer be any trouble to her and leave them to fend for themselves. Heartlessly abandoning them without even so much as a second thought. This would be but one of an endless array of abusive horrors inflicted upon the innocent by my megalomaniacal mother’s hand. But for now, I can only digress…
Luna was our first cat together. After having been a couple for about a year and a half we knew we wanted to bring a cat into our family in spite of the fact that we were not living together at that time. It was on a typically sunny southern California day that we randomly walked into the pet store after shopping at the neighboring record shop. Situated near the entrance, was a large birdcage in which two ridiculously adorable kittens were playing with one another. Initially, we had found ourselves drawn to the black and tan striped male as he seemed vigorous and full of life whereas the other kitten was a female with a plain gray coat and seemed very timid. Though we hadn’t planned it, we agreed that it was time to become kitty parents. We had decided to go with the male but as we were just about to ask for help we noticed that the reason the female seemed so timid was because the male was incessantly tormenting her with brutal kitten ferocity. We resolved that we would have to rescue this poor girl from her abuser. This was the day we met Luna.
Once we had gotten her home and away from mister tyrannical kitty, Luna’s adorably unique personality began to flourish. To this day I have yet to encounter another animal as vocally expressive or with as vast a range of communicative expression. She would literally hold complex conversations with you and she made no qualms about stating her demands. One of her first nicknames was “angles” as she would relentlessly try to sneak in from the last direction you’d be keeping an eye on when eating any food which she so hotly pursued.
We thought it would be best to wait to have Luna spayed until she was closer to her “teens” or young adulthood. Shortly before we were planning on taking her to the veterinarian she somehow magically escaped our fastidiously tended sentry and was gone like the wind. This was a devastating period that saw Mira and I tearfully posting lost cat flyers all around our neighborhood and beyond. Just when we thought Luna was gone forever after a week-and-a-half of wandering in search of her, Luna just casually appeared out of nowhere and resumed her routine without falter. Little did we know the true reason behind her sojourn.
Over the course of the next few weeks, Luna began eating a lot more food and gaining weight. It took us longer than it should have to realize she had become pregnant. Luckily, Mira, being of keen mind, had the foresight to research the possible situations that might arise when an extremely neurotic cat is giving birth. Using the information she had found, Mira prepared a birthing kit in preparation for the big event. This included sterile scissors for cutting the umbilical cords, dental floss to then tie off the umbilical cords, plenty of clean towels and warm washcloths to clean the newborn kittens off with. Also, providing a comforting area in which to give birth. Mira had read that there are some cases in which the neurotic mother can become confused, aloof, or in extreme cases, possibly harm her kittens.
When the moment finally arrived, Mira’s insights paid off, as Luna was completely terrified and confused as to what could have possibly been taking place with her body and the goopy little miau machines that kept coming out of her. Mira and I fully assisted in every aspect of the births. One by one we tore open the birth sacs, snipped the cords, tied them off, and cleaned them up. All the while comforting Luna, who had placed her complete trust in us.
After the extremely traumatic event there ended up being five kittens. Two boys and three girls, one of whom was a runt. We named them Tiberius after captain Kirk, Linnell after John Linnell of TMBG, Ash due to her coloring and after Ash from Evil Dead, Rinoa after the character in Final Fantasy VIII, and Pixie since she was the tiny runt who we would ultimately always call Wettles, due to the odd chronic moisture issue she had during kittenhood. They were the fucking dorbsest things that ever existed and we had no intention of splitting up the family…
To Be Continued…
Max, or Not 
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