VerseDay 1-17-19

 

Klutz

Today I stumbled

Head long.

Tumbled over the errant thought, that came from nowhere,

Like a toe caught on the lip of concrete,

Stopping my heart while the Earth’s momentum continued.

I crashed,

Scraped both knees,

Bloody and torn

 

In love with you.

 

I raised tattered palms

The shock of surviving

Such pain

Embarrassment,

Stupidity.

I looked up to see who’d noticed.

But the world carried on,

Oblivious to my fall.

And me, staggering to rise,

Unable to take any of it back.

Left with these scars.

VerseDay 1-10-19

Here. Take this. Do something with it…read it, mull it over on your tongue, let it open memories and old wounds. Enjoy the flavor of heartache…pass it on.

You Are

 

You’re a force of nature, you are.

Something that calls

Wild in the night

And speaks to the deserted heart

Wheezing in my chest.

 

You are a decadent mouthful

Notes of salt and earth,

And the spikes of truth

That pierce my tongue

You, the taste of blood

Sucked from fingertip.

 

You are the dark, uneasy night

The reason and fulfillment

That I cannot reach,

And I cannot have.

You are the endless envy in my chest

The dropped world

And the wound

That won’t heal.

 

VerseDay 1-3-19

Happy VerseDay, the first of the 2019.

While you’re making all of those resolutions, resolve to send me some of your poetry, essay or flash fiction to be featured on The Beautiful Stuff. Just use the contact button on my WordPress site, or e-mail me your brilliant stuff at sereichert@comcast.net

Enjoy!

 

Don’t lose your direction, nomadic heart.

Look to the needle swaying

In the depths of blood and bone

Old soul encased.

 

Waylaid by the plans of men and monsters

Fears and agitations,

False desires and hollows.

 

Don’t lose your direction, traveler.

Your feet alone touch dust and rock

Trails of world and earth,

Don’t let them plot the miles you go,

Before you rest.

 

Do not waver into their squall.

 

Do not falter, drifter.

Remember what your feet are for

The strength of legs, unbuckling

Remember, you…heart.

The pulse of your rhythm.

 

Find it.

Cling to it.

Let it draw your map,

Let it lead you.

 

You know you.

You know the truth of your existence.

Though they’ve taught you to fear it.

Though they’ve convinced you to deny it.

To question it.

To distrust the very core of your happiness.

 

Do not let them take your journey.

Do not let them own your path.

 

Be the master of your fate,

The commander of your soul.

 

Do not falter.

Do not falter.

Seek the astrolabe inscribed on your heart

The Heavenly body.

The incline of space.

That can’t be measured by the methods of any other man.

You made no promise to tread on their pristine track.

Their paved and acceptable roads are not your obligation.

You owe nothing but to your soul.

Only you can pay the debt of your happiness.

VerseDay 12-27-18

For the last VerseDay of 2018 I wanted to give you something amazing and powerful. Alas, this is what you get instead. (Well? Laugh!)

 

Next week, dawning the New Year, I will once again be promoting my submissions to VerseDay for the anthology out next fall. If you want to see your poem in print, please feel free to email or contact me with your poetry and/or essays.

 

And now…the final poem of 2018’s VerseDay adventure…

 

Honey Bee

 

Sometimes,

I miss you.

Miss the sound of your voice,

And the slight buzz 

Dripping Carolina, Honey

 

sweet.

 

I miss your fire,

the uplifting energy; an element so unconfined

The rushing ideas,

The rebellious feeling and defiant

 

heart.

 

I miss you, and your hover,

The way you called my flower the sweetest,

The only, under this sun,

You’ve ever loved, and danced so delicately across my

 

petals.

 

I don’t miss the way

Your deluge engulfed me,

Suffocated and overran in conversation,

The sting of barrage, welting my heart over and over again

And feeling that I was never quite important enough

To stop and take a

 

breath.

 

I don’t miss the pain,

Of the aching guilt you pierced me with,

The weight of what I should be,

What you wanted me to be,

The ideal you set

A high ivory honeycomb of complex,

 

deception.

 

Life does this.

It educates us.

Sometimes in human form,

and one sweetly hovering honeybee

Hard and hurtful once lured by the beguiling warmth

We must choose the limb to chew off to spare our

 

freedom.

 

You were my lesson

To enjoy the drawl but not submit to the voice

To know the sweetness of honey, without succumbing to its

 

taste.

 

To stoke my own energy,

To comprehend that I don’t need yours.

Orbiting in the clouds of your unfathomable passion taught me

To look for the fire in

 

Myself.

 

VerseDay 12-20-2018

 

 

Kiln

 

When you sculpt me today,

What shape will I take?

In careful, wet mud strokes,

What vessel will I become?

 

When you dry my skin in sun and wind

And abrade away the rough edges of my humanity,

What curves will your desire play upon?

Green and still so breakable, still changeable.

Scraped carefully down with blade and grit.

 

When you cast me in fire,

Warm bed that hardens the bonds.

What will I become then?

More permanent a fixture?

Or a mistake, forged.

 

Ruined.

 

Will you toss me into shattering pieces

Still not quite good enough?

Pulverized into nothing-dust

Mixed again…all over,

Cold wet lump returns

And I sigh, bottom flattened on table top

While itching fingers reach into me again.

 

What will you need me to be today?