GUEST POST // Viaticum 3 – Wooden hands by Chris Nelson

Knotted fingers work their skill
Sculpting nature’s giants,
As passion flows through hands
Designed to make things new.
Hematic flow from skin to grain
Rekindles life anew,
This touch like cryptesthesia
Animation from the dead.
And now you try to steal this love
To touch another’s flesh,
To breathe life within a kiss
And raise an amaranthine army.
These hands show dried and lifeless
Now splintered from mis-use,
Cut from weeping saplings
And drowned in blood of men.

 

by CHRIS NELSON
© All rights reserved 2000-2019

GUEST POST // ‘Til Heartbeats Meet by Fiery

I whispered you a sweet goodnight
And hoped my breath would kiss you right
I hugged myself and touched your dreams
Penned poetry in golden reams
And though I can’t sleep in your arms
And wrap my heart in all your charms
I gift to you my verses sweet
Let’s sleep in love
‘Til heartbeats meet.

 

by FIERY
© All rights reserved 2019

GUEST POST // A gaze he had to meet by In mind and out

even in this crowded room
it was the type of gaze that filled the air
between them,
it swerved the corners of reality
with tangibility –
he felt it’s whispers wrap the shoulders of his fears
and write a message in the atmosphere
for him to see
the invitation that she
painted there,
in silken threads of space
that she pulled and interlaced with gravity,
electricity,
a reveal of fortune-cookie
destiny,
until it was a gaze he had to meet

 

by IN MIND AND OUT
© All rights reserved 2019

GUEST POST // An Invite by KT

I am single
I have a female roommate
she’s 20, almost 21
yup, half my age
oh my!
but, it’s not like that
she’s an amazing Hispanic woman
a great human
and sometimes I give her a kiss on the cheek
cause she’s cool
and, sometimes, I forget to eat
because I’m a little passionate
and she’s an amazing chef
and I am grateful for that
because I suck at it

I am retired from dating and sex
(although, I have references that will tell you I am very good at it)
but, love is bigger than you and your partner and family and tribe
and, it’s even bigger than your sex drive
wait… what?
it’s true
so, no, I won’t date you
because sex is an expectation that impedes love
(I know, right? I mean, when has sex caused a fight?
never, right?)
life is very light when sex isn’t your drive
so, if I flirt with you
or, write a poem about you
(because I derive inspiration from humans, imagine that?)
it is to put a smile on your face
I know, no expectations…
holy fuck! that’s not real…
it’s misleading
well, go tell your mother and father and your god
that I made you smile
(what an ass I am, I know)
and when you’re done
tell them I said hi because I don’t mind
making them smile too
I make a better friend than a boyfriend
(and that’s just me being real honest with me)

but, do come over
I’ll make you pancakes with peanut butter
and maple syrup on top
and we can talk

I don’t give a fuck about your past
your religion
your sexual orientation
your binary finary winary things
your skin color
I don’t care if you’re fat or maimed
I don’t care about your honey boo boo nada nada
I can deal with anything
except a lie
that I despise
and that will get you
no pancakes!
(scary, huh? these threats I make…)

come
on over
let’s chat
have a pancake and smile
I’ll even sing to you because
I’m crazy like that

I can’t do it all
I’ve left a map
and it’s free
when’s the last time your preacher offered that?
no collection plate
just you and your heartbeat
and I’ll still write
because I’m compelled to
but, you have some reading to do
(imagine that, me ask you to learn?)
start at the beginning
finding your heartbeat takes a little time
it took me over a year
but, it’s amazing once you find it
it’s worth the investment (in you, no less)
I promise
and you can pray all the same
just spend some time
feeling your heartbeat as well

and,
if you wish to question my philosophy
well, please do
I’m not sacred
are you?
and if I’m wrong
I’ll admit it because
I’m not committed to being right, like you
I’m committed to learning
in order
to better the human race

pancakes, anyone?

 

by KT
© All rights reserved 2019

GUEST POST // A June Poem: Beneath the Pier by Writingcolorfully

We huddled
Beneath the pier
With tangled pretzel legs.
Denim shorts, the color of the coast
Speckled with sand
Like salted dough.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
White and pink seashells
Small like rabbit noses
Kissed and nipped
Our toes.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
Bright umbrella tops
Plastic pails and shovels and
Towels spread.
Chairs perched upright,
A set of pelicans
Just like the two of us.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
As the ocean whispered
And clouds passed by
In dainty shapes
Each unique like
Vintage teacups.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
To farewell the boats
And sun
And greet the crescent
With every single star
And galaxy stitch.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
As if a storm brewed
Coffee pot strong,
No cream or sugar.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
As if we were in control
Of the summer.

 

by WRITINGCOLORFULLY
© All rights reserved 2019