children of the first Amen [autumn] #poem #poetry

we were young when our autumn
came to burn leaves in the park
drunk with iambic pentameters
you called me Beatrice by the old fountain
we floated high in the veined sky
in the clouds we lit a candle
with threads of love we sewed our lips
children of the first Amen
we did not see the rain was coming
like heavy fruits forgotten by a harvester on trees
we fell on the same bench right by the fountain
the autumn burned us
and gale winds
blew our ashes to nowhere

@short-prose-fiction

image:  Aleshyn_Andrei; Shutterstock; [link]

 

blood #poem #poetry

my body is dragged
i’m covered in mud
sword in my hand
still i can cut
you’re looking at me
i hear the word love

fight!

children are crying
the moon has been stolen
the winds have stopped
right all the wrongs
lighten the sun
straighten the earth
bloom all the buds
i’ll see you again
there are other lives

fight
do not stop!

i’m choking on blood…

draft

@short-prose-fiction

 

tango me #poetry

tango me through wars and tears

until you sew my wounds and crack my lips

until children running in the streets

touch my body with their fears.

 

tango me through narrow hidden alleys

in which eternal lovers passionately kissed

against the coolness of gray walls in summer nights

play with my dreams like children play with kites.

 

tango me into your battered soul

until we feel the pain of ancient knives

teach me the moves of mystic loves

and tango me until the end of life.

*

wonder

imagine