Archive for moments


Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on November 21, 2016 by beautifulimposter

The bitter knives of winter
Are grinding their flinty edges
Hidden discreetly in the folds
Clever and cunning
Finding all the cracks and crannies
Stabbing cold and deep
Into the scurrying masses.

Everyone becomes a dragon,
Smoking breath rising into blooms
Of flaming leaves rattling above
Crackling orange and yellow
Autumn dripping ashes and embers
Flicked from the fag end of November
In swirling arabesques.

The sidewalks look picked clean,
Bare boned, save for rags and scraps
Fugitives all bow-headed, meek
Beneath the lash of winter’s stirring tongue
Furtive dashing from one haven
Of warmth and light to another,
Near numbed fingers desperately clutching
Venti peppermint mochas.

I like to imagine the stories that chase them
Like mongrel dogs tipping at their heels
As I watch, cocooned in glass and steel
Adrift upon the early morning streets
Yet temporarily marooned,
Waiting for the next summons,
Listening to my mind weaving tall tales
To and audience of me.


A Girl, Walking By

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on July 14, 2015 by beautifulimposter

Just a trace, a lingering
Lavender maybe, something delicate
A rustling of skirts
Breeze outlined memories of glimpsed curves
A few simple lines drawn in empty space
Where for a moment a girl stood
Paused, turned maybe
Nothing now but an echo
A fingerprint left in the dark
Behind my eyelids
Something graceful, impressions of fluid motion
The architecture of muscle hung over bone
Lacings if tendon
Held in brief tension
Something of marble, something of ebony
Maybe, perhaps
Material and animal, flesh and salt
The tang of it just under the tongue
All just a vague sense of something beautiful
That passed through my life
The idea of the sign of an emblem
Of a girl who just walked by
Perfect and free
Taking absolutely none of me with her
In her passage,
Just leaving me with a breath of perfume
As the blood in my veins
Becomes honey and wine.