Saturday, April 27, 2013

coming back by leaving

 
i left around the month of
dog days -
     an afternoon
when the world blew up
survival was
split time
     'tween heart
          AND mind

you left too
a journey to
     never-LAND
places denied you by
    
     suckling infants
     car rides
     low tides
     rising incense &
     daily lessons

i waited
     in orbit
circling in a vacuum
     (absolute zero will freeze your - )
playing out my
con-tin-gen-cies
     to invoke

gravity pulled me
to a place
i never left
     when you
     teleported
     back from that
     far away look

ETA
on schedule


©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Written for dVersePoets ~ Poetics Trip the Poem Fantastic

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Pulling















Skies drop crystal rain waves, black sheets of reality overdose

Wiper blades alternate - slip slap - blur clear - with a lean forward

Wildflowers, satin rhythm, my images of you draw me home


©Eusebeia Philos 2013

A sijo, written with some freedom,  for dVerse Poets ~ Form for All hosted by Samuel Peralta.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Green


Nine go out today to protect
our emerald diamond,
the commons,
home,
from visitors who
menace,
swinging clubs
cut and hardened from
green forests
of ash.

They'll try to
run us out of
our home,
taking the field to
own our turf.
We'll slap
some leather and
keep them from
advancing until
we go on the
attack,

hoping to breathe
the raw intoxication of
a spring victory.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Written for dVerse Poets Pub ~ Poetics - SpRinG hosted by Claudia

Sunday, April 14, 2013

DreaMed Monster















Sunset was hours ago,
the moon made no mention
of itself.
I stood in the middle of the plowed field,
taking in the black sea of space around me
spreading from tree line to creek,
how it pressed in my chest,
short calibrated breaths,
the odor of soil and
its freshly sprayed cologne
made its way to my senses -
     not chemical,
     organic, yes, manure
     from dairy cows
     reserved for the day
     when it returned to feed the ground.

The D-cell Maglite in my left hand
and the Smith & Wesson Airweight 38-special
in my right back pocket gave
some reserve of confidence to
continue to the end of the property,
back a half-mile from the house
that already looked small, distant.

Why didn't I turn on the back porch lights?

I stood before the depth of forest,
my appointment complete,
feet settled slightly in a grip of
greeting from whatever had called
me each of these nights.

I knocked on the door,
shining my light on to the first
row of trees standing sentinel to
the gathering beyond.
A slight breeze produced more sound
than thought possible,
branches scratching their itches,
trunks twisting to get a better look,
leaves falling, hitting the damp forest floor,
sounding like footsteps approaching.

I twisted the lens to narrow the beam,
a flash of darknes as the bulb went cold and
x-ray images lingered on my retinas for
a brief moment before
real-time video returned and
I saw two yellow lights
beyond the edge of swaying trees,
focusing on me,
unblinking.

I turned the Maglite around so the head
now snuggled in the meaty base of my palm
and the six D-size battery tube became
a hefty club held slightly away as a
warning not to come near.

I heard a snickering laugh in my head and
ignored the impulse to process it.

My boots felt as if they would slide off my feet,
sticking slightly in the ground as I
stepped to the right,
following the furrow of tilled earth
conveniently lined parallel to the
primordial theater before me.

The yellow orbs,
eyes, I surmised,
moved with me,
cautious step by cautious step,
never relieving me of their focus but
for the briefness when they passed
behind the scaly bark of a tree trunk to
reappear on the other side.

It knew I was here.

The 38-special came up in my right hand,
my elbow tight against my hip,
carrying like a Prohibition gangster.

Ludicrous. Who keeps laughing at me?

The length of the field I walked and
the eyes came with me,
extending an invitation to enter the wood.
To the left I returned,
never unlocking the gaze between us,
peripherally other pairs of eyes appeared in
the ensuing hours to join the standoff.

This game wearied me for
I was not going in and
the eyes were not coming out.

I stood at the back door of the house,
flipped to lie on my other side,
fumbling for the keys until I realized
it was not locked,
pulled the sheets up to my chin,
before stepping through to
wakefulness,
I wondered would I return again
tomorrow night to the forest edge as
I had every night since coming off
the medication.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Written for dVerse Poets Poetics ~ Monster

Brian Miller has us writing about monsters over at dVerse Poets. I let my imagination go and wrote the first thoughts that came to mind and followed them through to some kind of strange conclusion, a monstrosity of creation, if you will.


Tuesday, April 9, 2013

your love is like a paper dress


you announce yourself like a letterhead
wherever you go
engraving your persona
here I am

all the makings of royalty
crave the adulation
cherish being observed
live on the looks

your affection is cheap
men leave their marks
ink stains mix with tears
love marked junkie

your heart slips off quickly
ready for love post-disaster
ill fitting
does not suit you

stay away from passion's fire
emotions erupt
spontaneously
affection burns

crumpled in the hands of loveless brutes
not to be worn more than once
you give your love away like a novelty
it cannot last

men read you like yesterday's news
worn out
short-lived disposable
your love is like a paper dress

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Written for dVerse Poets Open Link Night ~ 91