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Source: weheartit.com

Morning Train

The doors closed too soon I was pulling away from you Reaching out Fingers pressed to misty glass

A moment before When the door was open I had discovered your green eyes And fallen hard into love

Then screeching and lurching I crashed into Monday morning Broken hearted Even though I didn’t even know your name.

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Photographer: Charles Moore. Selma, 1965

Lesson of Pettus Bridge

Men and women showed up Marching into The mouths of dogs Founts of tear gas Bull whips and Billy clubs

They came peaceful Arm and arm Offering themselves To be broken To shed blood For all of us

Even me not yet born

I am here now We are gathered In peace

“Yea though I walk through valley of death I fear no evil…”

We must walk across the bridge now.

-Skye

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Artist: Laura Berger Source: Virtual Art Curator

Stout Women

Hold each other up A collective of acrobats

Balancing upon each other So, no one will

Fall.

-Skye

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Photograph Title: Striptease club, Tokyo, 1951. Photographer:  Werner Bischof

Striptease Club, Tokyo ‘51

Painted faces and smooth skin Lounging among dressing room clutter Channeling palace concubines For the average man

Emerging from feudalism

Tokyo girls All bouncing breasts and Swaying hips Take the stage.

-Skye

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Painting: Anguish, 1878 Artist: Friedrich Schenek

Feast of the Ravens

Too early late winter lamb Still and cold in the snow

The ewe bleating Pleading for her child To come away

The ravens’ assemblage Eyes bright and mystery deep

Unperturbed by anguish Fluffing iridescent midnight feathers Against the murderous cold

The forever hungry host Presses in Speaking harsh hard beaked Threats

The defeated ewe Abandons

Her lamb

A feast for Jostling jovial birds Scattering gore In the snow With bacchanalian Abandon At the end of Winter.

-Skye

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Title: Rabbits and Triangles  Artist: Schinako

Bunny Math

Bunnies in the Garden Bunnies in the grass

Far too many bunnies Large and small Big and fat Black and brown ones Some snowy white

I cannot believe it They multiplied over Night

The garden is in shambles The lawn is such a mess I love the little bunnies

But to this I must confess I must share some regrets That freeing two little Easter bunnies Has had such exponential effects.

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Title: The yellow kitchen Artist: Mary Sauer Source: unsubconscious

Our First Place

Just before we left the rental On Howard St

I looked back The clean Swept tiles Lifting a little Here And there

The sink with its hidden leak The stove in its random corner

One wonky cupboard door Chipped Formica

But the extravagant yellow I fell in love

It wasn’t grand It was haphazard and spare But we were happy Here.

-Skye

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Source: thewitchywench

Cat in a Hat

On Brighton beach Where I often went Walking I came upon a Little black cat Sporting a top hat Looking out at sea

I watched this little soul So jauntily dressed For a water side stroll First in wonder Then in distress

Just where was His waistcoat and tie?

-Skye

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Source: visualstatic101

Tides

Mooring lost Battered upon the sharp reef I could only be counted as flotsam A bottle with no message Driven out into a howling sea Without a cry

Stranded in this bottle I lost the sea Peering out through the wavy glass I saw nothing I felt nothing So fearful was the loss

The bottle has long broken There are bits of sea glass That can’t cut anyone Even me Scattered now Among my bones

You ask me to examine them now These old hurts and betrayals I see only soft light The kind you find both at dawn and sunset

We are all subject to the tide I suppose, It steals our voice and brings it back again.

-Skye

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Source: shadechamber

The Raven

Great Auntie kept a raven under glass in her dusty living room full of curious things

Mother and I sipped tea there on Saturdays Mother and Auntie sipped and chatted While that long dead bird Stared at me with its glassy eye

I sipped seen not heard Under the gaze of this bird Wishing terribly for another cookie

The ladies gossiped and tutted Auntie even reached over and pinched my cheek “Such a good quiet girl”

The raven just stared at me Seen not heard Sealed in its glass

I imagined it soaring Under a blue mild sky Instead of being seen not heard At this Saturday tea

We had a lot in common That dead bird and me.

-Skye

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Artist: Even Liu. Source: Peepchic

Lovers on a Rainy Night

I would tether a cloud for you Because you love the rain at night

With a smile soft and wise you Pull me close and whisper I do not wish for a captive cloud

A lone cloud bound by rope Would weep cruel tears endlessly That would be a torture love

Let the rain drip From the eaves of its own accord Like tonight

You are here The rain is here I am happy.

-Skye

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Artist: Nester Formetera Source:peepchic

The Last Kiss

We came together in the end Lips pressed close Eyes closed to who we had become Just before parting.

-Skye

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Title: Despair (1926) Artist: Kazys Simonis (Lithuanian, 1887-1978 ) Source: dreams-of-mutiny

The Mother

It was the fall of everything The moment the war came into focus and the house caved in

Choking in the dust my baby dead my mother dead

Me digging the rubble With raw bloody fingers To be broken under the house would be better

Me holding my dead little one under the rubble

But In my despair I could only weep over the shattered house Digging with bloodied hands.

-Skye

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Subject: Darcy Padilla from Drill Baby Drill, USA, 2013 Photographer: Lisa Kereszi Source: letaobloquista

Washer Woman

It’s dusty Sleepy Dying Here One main street in the middle of nowhere

A liquor store A quick mart A laundromat

One sun wizened woman with a rag Sharpened through the spotless Washer Door

No one washing No one drying No one folding

Just the washer woman Beating back dust.

-Skye

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Artist: Meimaro (Work from their solo exhibition ‘Devotion Bound’) Source: Beatifulbizarremagazine

Fame and Fortune

Whispered making promises I let myself give way

It was easy in my innocence Allowing the Adoration of thousands of fingers Strip the flesh from my desirable bones

Until all that was left of me was Make believe.

-Skye

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Photographer: Tunguska  Source:  hknnvk

Death of My Muse

While you were sleeping I etched a poem across your back In soft gentle pen strokes Aching with love for you

You didn’t stir Not once You remained softly breathing Miles away from Me

In the morning my words for you are faded Smudged across the sheets Smeared across your skin

Divine inspiration in an astounding State of decay I have no more words for you in the harsh light of day.

-Skye

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Source: elzamine

Life’s Detritus

Mundane bits of life’s detritus Collected and pressed In a leather-bound book

Bits of butterfly wings Flowers of spring Flowers of high summer A seed or two for good measure

Carefully preserved To revisit later In the twilight When one pulls the bits of one’s Life together Into one last story.

-Skye