Archive | September 2015

Ashes by Linda V

Sep25

For Dad

His hands are made of ash now
No form do they hold
No skin do they touch
No help do they lend
His eyes are shut and sleeping
And the dream is full
Of those that went before
Wide open green spaces
Filled with happiness and peace
While his ashes fill a box
Sitting atop a dusty table he once sat at
Holding court for those who miss him now
Those who defy their tears with angst
And refuse to let just his memory live
Rewind the clock
Ask him what you don’t want to know
How does the world keep spinning?
How does the sun still shine?
How does the breeze still flow?
When the hands you used to hold
Are merely ashes in the wind

Cubemate by Linda V

Sep25

Her ink is deeper set
Than her hollow poser soul
Short in stature
And social graces
Cackle laugh too loud to be ironic
Her ink is her past set to skin
Painting her body
With claims of cool
While nothing of substance
Could be found within
Everyday a new tragedy
Or trauma befalls
And she regales trapped cubemates
With her latest tale of woe
Frustrated liquid bubbles up in the cooler
Longs to be flushed
Like her presence should be
Stale cube air
Holds the indifference
Of those who sit and listen
And wade through the shallow
Of her existence

The Traveler – Part 31 by Linda V

Sep17

Just a click beyond the dark of midnight
The Traveler emerges in stride
Briskly paced and haunting
Damp streets and fog enrobed autumn eve
Keeping time over flattened dead
Leaves once vibrantly coloured
Now faded brown decaying
Soon to be lost
Down stone gutters through chilled metal grates
Into the bowels below this city of sorrow
His footsteps trample the concrete
Back towards the muddy rivers edge
Through backwoods of secrets untold
Over shallow crypts of forsaken dreamers
Only he has remembrance of
Death comforts him at every turn
Cold like the grave so many now lay within
And deep like the winter snow that threatens to fall