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Written by InkArtist

~diagnosis dementia

this is the linger

           the roam

the slow fade of grey

matter

          & all that matters

unbalancing the nuance

of pause

a hyphen that rivals two words

like bookends

          an epigram

in the unnamed wind

          a hologram

that holds no color at all

this is the leaning barn

          the steeping tea

the aftermath of winter

to the juniper

          forgetting the fall

this is the wait

the way white clings on oleander

& its orphaned memories

& this

this defies the uncoupling

this becomes the distance of reach

in changing seasons

          the love of two hands

as if they could ever possibly anchor

the direction the moon

drifts

lah 4.18.17 ©

in dedication to some dear friends facing this disease.

I believe love conquers all.

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Written by InkArtist
~diagnosis dementia
this is the linger

           the roam


the slow fade of grey
matter

          & all that matters

unbalancing the nuance
of pause

a hyphen that rivals two words
like bookends

          an epigram
in the unnamed wind
          a hologram
that holds no color at all



this is the leaning barn

          the steeping tea


the aftermath of winter
to the juniper

          forgetting the fall


this is the wait

the way white clings on oleander
& its orphaned memories



& this



this defies the uncoupling

this becomes the distance of reach
in changing seasons

          the love of two hands

as if they could ever possibly anchor
the direction the moon
drifts









lah 4.18.17 ©

in dedication to some dear friends facing this disease.
I believe love conquers all.
#poetry  #love  #sadness  #hope  #disease 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Micropoetry

~u & i

pronouns hang in the hollow

of my throat

          trapped vowels, too hard

          to pronounce

lah 4.4.17 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Micropoetry
~u & i
pronouns hang in the hollow
of my throat


          trapped vowels, too hard
          to pronounce









lah 4.4.17 ©®
#poetry  #love  #relationships  #thoughts  #personal 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~esoteric

notice the stillness

     of water

how it carries us along

its softened edges

     holds us in 

     its fragile depths

the lull of a lonely lake

& its blue mood

     wet with reasons

lah  4.3.17 ©

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~esoteric
notice the stillness
     of water
how it carries us along
its softened edges
     holds us in 
     its fragile depths

the lull of a lonely lake
& its blue mood
     wet with reasons









lah  4.3.17 ©
#poetry  #reflection  #nature  #thoughts  #personal 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~obscurity

just beyond summer, it's

soundless

   like old love & lightning

how many months to remember?

how many whispers?

  warm pinks & spread wings

the way she bends the sun's distance

between a tender curl

of leaf-sprout

& a brief flowering

his touch, as quiet as nightfall

soft ground on the cusp

of evening

   an indecent, unblanketing wind

the dimming ache

  her hips

  belonging to the shape

  of moonlight

lah  7.7.15 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~obscurity





just beyond summer, it's
soundless
   like old love & lightning

how many months to remember?
how many whispers?
  warm pinks & spread wings

the way she bends the sun's distance
between a tender curl
of leaf-sprout
& a brief flowering

his touch, as quiet as nightfall

soft ground on the cusp
of evening
   an indecent, unblanketing wind

the dimming ache

  her hips
  belonging to the shape
  of moonlight









lah  7.7.15 ©®
#romance  #poetry  #life  #reflection  #love  #thoughts  #personal  #seduction 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~the color of a metaphor

wind is half-lost in a meadow

    where bloodroot opens

    after the night-flowering

it happens too slowly to notice

this perfect moment

carved into dawn

      of branch & wing

      old notes & rainwater     

how the dew settles

to needles of pine

like drugs for an addict

like unsaid words

of poems I wish I had written

    or the language

    of small birds

    a thousand miles

    from now

lah  4. 2. 17 ©

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~the color of a metaphor
wind is half-lost in a meadow
    where bloodroot opens
    after the night-flowering


it happens too slowly to notice
this perfect moment
carved into dawn
      of branch & wing
      old notes & rainwater     
how the dew settles
to needles of pine
like drugs for an addict


like unsaid words
of poems I wish I had written
    or the language
    of small birds
    a thousand miles
    from now










lah  4. 2. 17 ©
#poetry  #reflection  #nature  #thoughts  #metaphor 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~little wife lies

 

 

 

 

 

diary pages smell

like stale silk sheets

a marriage of dirty, wilted petals

& a dying summer

 

but she enjoys the chill

of winter more

 

the thrill of carving lines in snow

always makes her wet

as she spins like a half-lit star

on a northern dance floor

 

she is an august lemon, heavy with juice

 

& he cums in the shape of a god

as she worships

his dark night sky

 

her fingers find the form of his hips

& she falls away to yesterday’s knees

unzips wanting lips

to write throaty sighs on the shadow

of his thighs

 

her mouth opens

to hot silk milk of his veins

pulsing against

another strange headboard

another interstate motel

 

her nails trail the length of him

stretching to read his punctuated skin

remembering his braille spine

as she runs her tongue over

the curve of his moon

 

& swallows each

secret

endless

moaning

echo

 

then slips away
 

 

 

 

his salt, still on her lips when she kisses

her husband

goodnight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lah  10.13.11 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~little wife lies
 
 
 
 
 
diary pages smell
like stale silk sheets
a marriage of dirty, wilted petals
& a dying summer
 
but she enjoys the chill
of winter more
 
the thrill of carving lines in snow
always makes her wet
as she spins like a half-lit star
on a northern dance floor
 
she is an august lemon, heavy with juice
 
& he cums in the shape of a god
as she worships
his dark night sky
 
her fingers find the form of his hips
& she falls away to yesterday’s knees
unzips wanting lips
to write throaty sighs on the shadow
of his thighs
 
her mouth opens
to hot silk milk of his veins
pulsing against
another strange headboard
another interstate motel
 
her nails trail the length of him
stretching to read his punctuated skin
remembering his braille spine
as she runs her tongue over
the curve of his moon
 
& swallows each
secret
endless
moaning
echo
 
then slips away
 
 
 
 
his salt, still on her lips when she kisses
her husband
goodnight
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
lah  10.13.11 ©®
#poetry  #relationships  #thoughts  #personal  #cheating  #seductive  #sensual  #affair 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~cold roots

i.

I smiled once, in a photograph

ii.

somewhere, thunder is stranded

in a squall of clouds

waiting

          like an afterthought

          or the burden of shadows

          yet to fall

rain jewels the periphery

          curses the storm

          that brought you here

iii.

& so what if

I'm rain-drunk

dancing barefoot

shivering like

a virgin with

a tickle crawling

through my veins

the same as what

salt does to ice

          old words melting

          into new poetry

iv.

observe the crocus

pushing away the innocence

of new march snow

leaving its blood-red stain

in the budding

rising like sin from preying hands

v.

in the last season, as the sun sits low & late

bury the all of me

          bone & ash

                    smoke & secrets

lah 4.1.17 ©

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~cold roots
i.

I smiled once, in a photograph


ii.

somewhere, thunder is stranded
in a squall of clouds

waiting
          like an afterthought

          or the burden of shadows
          yet to fall

rain jewels the periphery
          curses the storm
          that brought you here


iii.

& so what if
I'm rain-drunk
dancing barefoot
shivering like
a virgin with
a tickle crawling
through my veins
the same as what
salt does to ice

          old words melting
          into new poetry


iv.

observe the crocus
pushing away the innocence
of new march snow
leaving its blood-red stain
in the budding

rising like sin from preying hands



v.

in the last season, as the sun sits low & late
bury the all of me

          bone & ash

                    smoke & secrets












lah 4.1.17 ©
#poetry  #reflection  #pain  #sadness  #vignettes 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~gradually

 

 

i.

when I was little, I asked,

“is heaven in the sky, daddy?”

 

he said heaven is a further calling

a purpose, a destiny

          that love is blue

          & blue is limitless

 

when he was called home, I remembered

          love is blue

          & blue is limitless

                    like grief

 

 

 

ii.

spring inevitably brings violence

in the same bruised sky

a drunk wind pivots frantically

          swings in my direction

 

anger conjures up another storm

that thunders through windows

          & walls

 

the smell of rum is the sound of touch

          the crack of an open hand

 

 

 

iii.

october's orchard is still

at dawn

 

a family of deer feast on leftover fruit

they pause as they notice me

settling into a quiet, cold fog with

          the beekeepers ghost

 

 

 

iv.

the metronome ticks away

at distant shadows

 

words pulse in her eyes

like stars traveling in their

own orbit of solitude

 

desperation borders

the autumn

of her once auburn hair

 

          but she is fierce

 

slaying dragons until the heat

becomes too much

& imagination stops racing

through her heart

 

 

 

v.

blind birds stumble

from a damp bed where

poetry grows

 

          starved for attention

          starved for scent

 

hands stir awake the grasshopper

who spits like a preacher from

the pulpit

 

I am the flower

swallowing clouds

          full of tears

as day casts a spell of yellow

 

I bud my petaled armor

          sharpen my fangs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lah  4.4.14. ©®

V1 - to a parent

V2 - to a past relationship

V3 - to a place you grew up

V4 - to someone you look up to (Sylvia Plath)

V5 - to yourself

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~gradually
 
 
i.
when I was little, I asked,
“is heaven in the sky, daddy?”
 
he said heaven is a further calling
a purpose, a destiny
          that love is blue
          & blue is limitless
 
when he was called home, I remembered
          love is blue
          & blue is limitless
                    like grief
 
 
 
ii.
spring inevitably brings violence
in the same bruised sky
a drunk wind pivots frantically
          swings in my direction
 
anger conjures up another storm
that thunders through windows
          & walls
 
the smell of rum is the sound of touch
          the crack of an open hand
 
 
 
iii.
october's orchard is still
at dawn
 
a family of deer feast on leftover fruit
they pause as they notice me
settling into a quiet, cold fog with
          the beekeepers ghost
 
 
 
iv.
the metronome ticks away
at distant shadows
 
words pulse in her eyes
like stars traveling in their
own orbit of solitude
 
desperation borders
the autumn
of her once auburn hair
 
          but she is fierce
 
slaying dragons until the heat
becomes too much
& imagination stops racing
through her heart
 
 
 
v.
blind birds stumble
from a damp bed where
poetry grows
 
          starved for attention
          starved for scent
 
hands stir awake the grasshopper
who spits like a preacher from
the pulpit
 
I am the flower
swallowing clouds
          full of tears
as day casts a spell of yellow
 
I bud my petaled armor
          sharpen my fangs
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
lah  4.4.14. ©®

V1 - to a parent
V2 - to a past relationship
V3 - to a place you grew up
V4 - to someone you look up to (Sylvia Plath)
V5 - to yourself
#poetry  #reflection  #relationships  #nature  #thoughts  #personal  #introspection  #abuse  #goodbyes  #retrospection  #vignettes 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~apertures & stigmas

 

 

 

 

 

it's still thursday

 

 

and always longer than

the average distance

 

 

a wider circumference to travel

as this clock swallows quarter hours

like ohio rain, circling the voices I

collect in my hip-pocket

lincoln penny reminders, tucked away

 

 

the contraband of snapped

promises

and I wonder if time is some kind of

warning

 

 

an extended moment when I understand the pulse

of certain fractured things

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lah  3.28.17 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~apertures & stigmas
 
 
 
 
 
it's still thursday
 
 
and always longer than
the average distance
 
 
a wider circumference to travel
as this clock swallows quarter hours
like ohio rain, circling the voices I
collect in my hip-pocket
lincoln penny reminders, tucked away
 
 
the contraband of snapped
promises
and I wonder if time is some kind of
warning
 
 
an extended moment when I understand the pulse
of certain fractured things
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
lah  3.28.17 ©®
#poetry  #reflection  #memories  #thoughts  #personal  #introspection  #retrospection 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~ the length of a spine

there was a time

I was afraid of the dark
afraid to measure empty angles

of a January afternoon
when winter slept in the stillness

of my hands
the way its cold blue pause

burnt my fingers
as if I'd touched the sun


& there was a time

I used my heart to cover my face
when the wind bruised cheekbones

in shades of merlot
swept my hair away

like crumbs from a new year’s toast


it was midnight

when I first held his eyes

as color fell from the sky
& a shallow breath of a breeze

fluttered on my lips


it was 12:38 when I touched 
the fabric of a low-slung cashmere moon
ran hands over the curve of its smile
heard the moans of morning stars

from a melody of bed sheets
& the fragrance of musk escaping between thighs

I was naked in the dark


& I was not afraid












lah  1.11.12 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~ the length of a spine






there was a time
I was afraid of the dark
afraid to measure empty angles
of a January afternoon
when winter slept in the stillness
of my hands
the way its cold blue pause
burnt my fingers
as if I'd touched the sun


& there was a time
I used my heart to cover my face
when the wind bruised cheekbones
in shades of merlot
swept my hair away
like crumbs from a new year’s toast


it was midnight
when I first held his eyes
as color fell from the sky
& a shallow breath of a breeze
fluttered on my lips


it was 12:38 when I touched 
the fabric of a low-slung cashmere moon
ran hands over the curve of its smile
heard the moans of morning stars
from a melody of bed sheets
& the fragrance of musk escaping between thighs

I was naked in the dark


& I was not afraid












lah  1.11.12 ©®
#romance  #poetry  #life  #reflection  #love  #relationships  #thoughts  #personal  #seduction 
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