silent to my blood along the bone garden I have known the women, living and dead, eyes seized the one moon, (a ghost sleeps) in my body dissociating a star at my spring bones my garden, my home a sparse death in my hair the wind. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
A View By The Sea .. . The dead die young Ernest Albert Bett your concrete grave is a trough with no pigs yet in it just convolvulus and ivy I stepped across your withered torso the silence of the dogs I walk death in spades around me shadows of oak walk past me Gravelled [...]
I was standing on the hillbilly side watching and wonderingHow'd they get them black boys up, the sun was setting?I wonder what they did or why they hanging so grotesqueThem trees, a black silhouette against an orange sky so fine One of them boys wassa' friend of mine we met while fishingNow that silhouette won't [...]
Shadows on the grass Mistook for an old friend. All things pass, However much we pretend Otherwise. You closed your eyes, And left your mark Upon my heart.
infinite in papery moons why must I lay under your foot in the voluptuous sea? madcaps and glassed eyes her next death in a million moons I’ve yet to meet; god’s leavetaking, nothing left for you but a ghost of gardens. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. Reposted for the dVerse Open Link Night.
leaving death of all silhouettes when the new moon born of lured tragedies outstretched to kill itself; the roots my shame winter of the flowers, if I loved, then they should fall to my feet in wastrel-fragility guiding memorial bones to the knees of the garden © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. Reposted for the [...]
I, memory, I, a membrane and ghost meronym to memory and free— I am the thorn of flowers in your mouth, and the foot of the leaf between the limbs of a small tree halved like quarters, and still dying, I, memory, I, a membrane and ghost meronym to memory and free— Ancestress of loss [...]
an opus eyea moon in the hood of a rose, my hibernation once every few weeks;if I wake,an eye cracks; many stonesand cold-blooded treeswhat a thrillI know it’s in the windif I shame the childless snakesin my bed. Opus rubies split alongThe street.© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
from the air swallowed I fertilizegarden bones as if I would my childrenpreparing first lifeand then the subtletythe pagala death;I’m on my kneesfragmented; so, a graveI stir in my bedsheets, knowing nonethe woman in my skin or the woman I am.© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
red moon’s peculiar night climbing a cricket eye; Lazarus the dead, fingers of the moon colder than the dust of a poet I leave to hide my wind-wept ghosts, and plead to the shattering in star-death to star-death; I fall, dying, broken off the spore like mold. a charred moon's vining velvets winding around the [...]
in which I am a ladyof ash and hairenclosed like all the rosesstirring I didn’t want themwake or sleepa skin touched shimmeringif I were Lazarus an opus of eyes, handsunwrap the stone © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
God’s moon, leavetakingfrom the garden, the wildling from its fruitI’ve killed; like the moon without its stalkedwinters, I cannot behold reconciliationof two silhouettes; the phone-line I cutstill lures my name. in the echoes of the orange orchard,perfumed in late air, eyes known the moon;this stone willnot vanish, I could thoughinto disconnection, knowing thenof gods writhing [...]
adieuwearing a deathlacein the bony gardenthe pretty women as statueswhen I’ve known none of them eyes, not mine, stare backif I have failed, let me gothrough dooms of silence in suffering of the first born,the last born, upon the orange grovesand syrup of my old home. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
eyelids and a lie i stare the way footsteps slip in winters etcetera of the garden; the most frail are knifed apples of eve in my hands roots faces I hid because I’m a memorial now not the child with arias in my bones © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. Written for the dVerse prompt: [...]
Flooded the daughter a d ead flower seized by the moon-Moses light in the stars a seed wasted as a poet hangs a tree was it me I don’t know a syntax clouding a mind, holding in my arms, dancing if jokers grin. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
catalpa, heart-shaped and boney your daddy died years ago, in redress of his mind, where I leave my fingers on the stone, and I’ll never see him, he is just a rock he is just a worm; you’ve been in my mind but never knew me, I tire; death is half the stradivarius of the [...]
lie across the taurobolium at the motherless spring without feeling, without breath; pale mulberries infiltrate the wind in ice dark of obscured dreams by the sea-green void, vanishing by the surf, as the fresh dew slumbers in the whiteness of morning exorcised with twigs of the dying trees. flicker with the nightly, strange sea, the [...]
Very happy to announce that my poem, “Some” appears in Volume 8, Chapter 1 of Visual Verse. Many thanks to VV to be in the wonderful company of amazing poets and writers. “Fossils / in our bed / furculain throat, splayed a drowninglest we know / ancient hibernations /anamnesis ribcaged /rigor mortis yawning / poisoned [...]
They both looked wearily at each other, soon deciding to get back to work. I sighed.
centuries dead moonpretty ladies on the streetby death, clothed withwhite snow; winter’s blue waterfingers in stardust, snitching ice redhingingas though I had seen, dearest,your physiognomy of spring,moved in black craters; (like tall roses),whisk, whisk,swaying a face, sun gardenedand unlike, cleaning osprey eggs.try beyond,do not turn from me,twitching your oceanid weeds,in symmetry twistingshyness in ice, eyes [...]