modern poets

Anathema, the old folks
say, and the town people
say, leaving the unfortunate
isolated and alone

out of what could be new
and promising, but it’s just
a walking by curse.

Black Sheep puts on his
best clothes, tries to fit in,
a puff of animal fur on
his face to hide behind.

Black Sheep moves softly
through the herd, but no
matter how hard he tries,
it’s just not enough.

Black Sheep’s bleat
is just a little too loud,
hooves working opposites.

My eye goes dark,
my world goes missing,
the rain will not let up,
a cloud has covered
my entire being,
what was formerly known
has disappeared,
what was held comfortable
is now running away,
and I am left holding
the bad, wondering what
I will fill it with now.

Broken, I will one day
hope to be mended. And
bruised, I will one day
hope to heal. And split,
I will one day hope to be
rejoined to a solid self.

More at http://silverspinelit.blogspot.com.

A blue bird underneath
a paper sun-
she looks at me with confusion,
as he hands the bird to me-
she leaps.

The blue bird returns at midnight
when he is gone,
she comforts me with a sweet song.
It is raining, and all is renewed-
fresh.

I love the spring and the way
we tiptoe over certain words
to avoid the waterfalls.
And as we lean over each other,
how could we stand apart?

To think of life without love-

I didn’t know a blue bird
could mean so much.

Old Rip sits well
under his tree, drinking down a good bit of time.
He sleeps a while
and a while longer.
Until he wakes and there
are strange creatures around him, vehicles,
people from another time,
ushering him to a closed
room where they can learn
what he really is.

Members of the same
species.
We flaunt, we fawn, we
put forward our best mask.
The one we think is most
fitting the moment.
The one our grandmother
gave us.
After all, granny can’t be
wrong.
There is one thing I have
learned about this
BodyHuman
and it is that we are, at
root, disappointing creatures,
distracted by shiny objects.

She couldn’t comprehend
the selfishness, greed, betrayal,
two-facedness and general nastiness
housed inside the average human being.
Until it bulldozed her bright spirits
several Gigantic times in succession.
Then she couldn’t understand
how sharing, being kind, nice,
understanding and playing fair
was not the obvious and easiest way to be?
And in fact merely marked
her out as an easy touch target.
Compassion and empathy are not
meant to be weaknesses but strengths
she reasoned to herself as her mind
finally switched gears into common sense.
Then, rather than change or darken
her unique, beautiful soul,
she learnt the hard way to be selective
with all future interactive dealings.

More at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.

Today we found a tooth
made of stone, impressed in rock.
It’s probably the earliest known
specimen of fang, long before
we were walking out of the soup
and learning how to devour
each other.

I imagine I could build a whole
animal around this one piece,
just start with the tooth
and go from there, slapping on skin,

hair, jewelry, neuroses, and therapy.

She’s my sunflower girl,
raspy voice, who takes my unwanted
hand and helps me find
the glow again.
She’s my sunflower girl,
knows some 80’s music, has
the power of infinity in her lips,
and kisses me away into the night.