feet

A Fever

Folder: 
Voodoo

Brilliant warm reds

caress the darkening sky

A fever pitch of

colored emotion

I am not at all

at peace

Pieces come un glu ed

with blue blurred

lines and a hopscotch

of memories


Spinning and spinning

Eyes upward, heart heartward, feet floating

 

I can swim but sometimes drowning scares

the hell out of me

Inside. I stay there often; too often.

Too often, time is reduced to

tentative and fleeting moments.

Brilliant warm reds

caress the darkening sky

A fevered pitch of

colored emotion

I am not at all at peace

Pieces come un glu ed

Though, sometimes-

the glow of sunshine

defrosts my thoughts

and devastates my

structured palace

The walls, they tumble down

And, in the span of two small breaths

I step outside

to not just watch

but to become.

Two small breaths

-Laughter

Two small breaths

-Joy

Two small breaths

-Surrender

Two small breaths

-Drowning


Spinning and spinning

Eyes upward, heart heaving, feet frantic

 

The heavy drum of heartache

beats beats beats

I can swim

but only

if I stay inside

Only, inside.

View furiousice's Full Portfolio

Sunday Morning

Out of the darkness, the smell,
French toast, and the sound of sausage,
Sizzling bacon, and the aroma of buttermilk bisquits,
Muffled clamor of pots and pans, and running water,
Drawers on the bureau, closing,
One after one, she can't find the right socks,
I bury my head under the pillow,
The dog jumps on my bed,
And after many tries at waking me up,
I feel the weight and warmth of her on my feet,
I don't think I want to eat,
I want to sleep.

 

© 2013

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Sunday mornings when I was a kid.

View nightlight1220's Full Portfolio

Resolved to Love

Her eyes opened to the dark of the coming dawn.
Silence, like the canopy above her head, hung in the air, if only to be disturbed by the rustling wind.
She blinks again, unsure of what her eyes are showing.
He was there, laying beside her in bed, his face soft from slumber.
Beside her was where she found him.

He could feel her eyes, like the morning sun, enveloping him in their warmth.
He didn't dare stir at fear he would startle her and force her to hide behind a blush.
He knew she was questioning his presence.
Then slowly, he felt her wrap herself in the sheet and remove herself from the bed.
Never again would he let her leave him.

She clung to the sheet as her feet slipped across the cold floor.
She gazed through the open window at the commencing morning.
She couldn't bring herself to find her clothing that was thrown about the room.
In that moment she was resolved to stay.
She was resolved to let herself love him.

He watched her as the sun slowly rose to illuminate the paleness of her skin.
He let his feet touch the floor and carry him to her.
His arms moved to tighten the sheet around her, and yet, secure her to him.
She was too much to take in all at once, he loved all of her equally.
So he closed the curtain again.

Together they let the morning pass to night once more.
And in their slumber they held onto each other for dear life.
Never again would they let go.
Never to be apart.
Together to greet the oncoming dawn.

Resolved to always love.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is quite a poem, but it's not a short story either. I thought there might be an audience for it here.

MISSING MY FEET

The Union flag comes down once more
Another job done in a foreign War
Lets salute and march and take home or dead
As the enemy leaves theirs for the vultures instead
Young men missing legs and arms and friends
Come home to Britain to start again
Some go straight to jail
Others languish on the streets
One takes his life coz he is missing his feet
Fake Veterans parade on Remembrance day
Lying about how it was in `Their` Day
Their War was e-bay and a last minute bid
For ten medals and a beret
He hopes it will fit
The dead are still dead
The Fakes still cheat
A Royal Marines toes still itch on his missing feet.

© Tony McNally

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"Cradle"

Folder: 
My Work

Time and its essence was birthed by your wisdom.
the stars, they are numbered,
as they play at Your Feet.
Your Holy Presence gives light to the sun,
night becomes day, only to repeat.
You bathe my life in the sweet glow of Mercy,
no human hands could incite such a touch.
So, I will close my eyes, and like the stars that rest above me,
Sleep in the rapture of this cradle I call Love…

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Can you rest?