fingers of earth lay thy lady of bones a garden of have died and have not; shan’t you take my hands? my skin, a linen from the sun weeds, we share parentheses as eyelids kiss the sleeping trees; littleness death we—the serpents we sleep with. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Read Moreskin on handlavender riseshugged by madsunsin whiteandyellow; the moonflutes the rain, abandoned byalltheflowers and the rainis deathflutteringi fear, the spine toits leaf that blows etceteraetceteraladyleafofLazarusdoes not leave © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. I tried (emphasis on tried) to do an E.E. Cummings style/format here, so if you were wondering about that, guilty as charged. […]
Read Morei look towardmy blood, root of the daisyeddeluded in each vein;rain flutes midnightthrough weeps of winterlaced over the moon-hothand and foot, a gardenof bones as us where we lie like pearlslittered in our elusivebeds © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Read Morestaring at these screens, I wonderif I’ll get sucked in one day &live inside the vastness ofcyberspace they tell me about virtual realityI cringe, then remind myselfyou can’t stop progress technology speeds uplike a fast-tracked audio file& when it gets to the endwill we hear the final sound? For further work, visit Fiction and Ideas.
Read Morei rise from my bedof snakes, glassy apparition,you have nothing on me; garden fingersand eyeholes i hid from:no one can get meno one can bethe thief but the moon, I devour known bloodof these garden thorns,the moon-stunt of your flowerI see goes(and its rain). © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Read Morethis foolworld spunin cold-bloodedlady iknow you, but iof skin and bone,and i little sun,in moon gardens of her feetI am a child, i and if aside,grown toward rootsof her bones and kneesbillowing absent, fingersof May (i close the rain)to the syntax of your voice © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Read Moream i a treebetween the earthfledembraced a dying thronefathered in my blood,stalked and eatenby the moon’s brigade,a kiss to the sun; a finger in the rainto la moon, i see I, and if the rosesaxethe tree,would I have dreamed of this,i woudn’t know © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Read MoreThe cave pooled on a dusty gray, its lifeless folds quietly shone, hinging to the cold darkness in the air. Intervened, footfall was prevalent and darning; she gripped onto her spear as she extended it away from her person, head merging against an animal’s snout.
Read Morethis is not a letter to myself quickly the moon is forever i say that sometimes these ghost fingers reach to wind the strings and twist the whitecaps upon the bridge; i sit at midnight famous blue raincoat on my lips, a thunder squirms into my body of stone voice nothing, where I […]
Read Moresometimes a moona snake on my head,a leaf from reapinga leaf from falling glasspetalsare fingers in the moonriseand sun-veins; i cannotbelieve in god after all thethings I’ve done, each oceanid clawreaches me so I drown © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Read Morecruelly, our moon-hungancient tree fathers a poetsperm in frail autumn, born industily springlace,and eyes to this earthopened to oceanid shame, I wakesame as I was, peelingbones and eating air. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Read Morefor the starsi liediminish i see the moonfled the rain, deathpoising swiftly, & unspeaking,a poet crowsspun a wind, shuttingyourbeautiesin the spring-said of earthindigomy skin, I rise so no onesees meone womanbirth,subsumedbut eyesI lie with themeasy. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Read MoreFlooded 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.
Read MoreSo many pieces of the puzzle, there is no need to hidebut they were lost, caught in nets on Pier 39Like an unfaithful son on the day of his bridethe colours of this city run and they rhymePollock might say its a bit of a daubuntil each piece he numberedPasted my memories in a red, […]
Read Morei carry the small roselike a moon of your bodya syntax of fools,that if the sun and the sky and the rosesfall to the garden i will let your name climb upon my bodyand head until iam no more. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Read Moreinfinite in papery moonswhy must I layunder your footin the voluptuoussea? madcaps and glassed eyes her next deathin a million moons I’ve yet to meet; god’s leavetaking, nothing left for youbut a ghost of gardens. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. Reposted for the dVerse Open Link Night.
Read MoreOriginally posted on George Ellington:
The words, the power, the very syntaxof your verse delights me,says the linguist in me. The imagery flows like molten cloudsover my aging soul,cries the artist in me. Your rhythm reaches into my heartand entices me to sing,chants the musician in me. The sensuality of your voice caressesmy pulsating skin,moans…
Her fingers tracing mineLily danced me out of the gardenthose green eyes brimming livelywith purest abandonThen barefoot on the boardwalkher summer dress riding highshe leapt onto the jettyand gestured to the sky We let our tanned legs hang belowas we bottomed up the bottlethe air was hot and heavythe sea around us peacefulThere was lust […]
Read MoreA voice of an ancestressfrom slightest memory, I, my ghosts on branches of April,like mice, we speak; between fingers of solace-drunkin the hills I found a voicebroken through my body, the sucking of black dressesin the wind, trees swoopingfour bones holding each other,we are holding hands, emerged a moon-maidenslack against my skull—trees mix in bloodshot […]
Read MoreMistress, bone-lacedaround my fingersmerciless as the moon-hungwith cigarette burns and stars;what I’d giveto billow smoketwirling lips throughthe telephone, a bloodbath in star or rainwinter was farand died,lady-footed with bone © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
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