something about you that understands.

this 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 More

“Jetty Song” by Tom Alexander.

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 More

“Another Channel” by Nick Pipitone.

i want to feel connected to Mother Earth –wet, black soil after torrential rainsswaying tree boughs that yearn toembrace me like old grandmaswith calloused hands &toothless smiles i want it so much, yeti feel nothing –only dullness where the earthis another distorted channelon so many screensdivorced from the pulsating groundof my ancestors For further work, […]

Read More

“From Across the Sea” by Tina McFarlane.

As the breeze that had chased me across the dunes grew quiet, I gasped at the beauty of the scarlet twilight as I stepped on the beach. Rain from that morning made the amber sand soft and comforting as it covered my toes, like slippers. I knew that I only had a few moments, and […]

Read More

All Hallows Eve.

All Hallows Eve, the cat does liethe divan comforts him; night entwinesmoon whispers in labor, duplicity’s lips are cruel,he stares in penitential innocence, you fool. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

Read More

The sea girls.

peyote ripples uponmy father’s hands,I horde my poems in the melismaof my bare bones within the arboretum and the vagary of the moonshe nocturnes this feeling of death;it’s early winter and the sea girlswormhole into the seato drown; algorithmicthe mirror purports I writ my ghosts in the looking glass,this rite of amnesia, I’ll die in […]

Read More

in the woodland.

Wrist in the woodlanddying alone inmarcescence © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

Read More

“Potpourri” by Ivor Steven.

I have a visiting bluebirdStanding in my potpourri bowlBathing in aromatic leavesSinging a reverieAbout her dying treeAnd I join in, with her plea“Trees are the air we breathFeeding us food and seedNourishing land and seaPlease let us grow and breed.” In the morning mistBeside the potpourri dishThere, the bluebird is lyingI see her sad eyes […]

Read More

in their dying, in their shadows.

In their dying in their shadows I will see your eyes. As the blood-flow             of living things, dear white shells and white bone fall into the ground, mama’s bony fingers             whiten the earth,                                     where all else fades and leaves; daddy glissades in the ice             picking flowers for us all, and soon […]

Read More

Let it die.

Turn away from the resuscitations there the dream warrants the saplings, she in the lithology of life, the posies leach in mother’s touch, stands retracted in the tears from the ocean, weeping in the enchant as I feel the shame of the eventide; the last breath to the inhabited throes of the shore if swallowed […]

Read More

blackest feather.

the blackest feather in the sky chokes delirium to the stars; our bodies glaze white under the willows, and water sat her mistress of spindrift wombs, the sun fed the death tree; give our bones the wispy velvet vein of our blood, becoming mother. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved. Written for the dVerse prompt: “Show […]

Read More

always.

paraphernaliaflowers; the frozen nailsof Mars, lest I leavein lunula wombsto no death of our wormsand our licking wings;I’ve dreamt no morethan the coquette black rose,and her absinthe skin,wormwood, dead at our feet,to the insomniacocktails of phantasm,setting down the metaphysical poetrythrough my blood-flow, and the paraphernaliaof rocks, incubated with the skull-shapedhills; is it thenso ancient?the last […]

Read More

Hellebores.

the moon kissesus both; knowingthe white tumuli of bloodat our feetis ours; in a dream,I’ve been the meronymyof ocean to ocean; I would see the black starsand their explosionsinto a sea of pareidolia but these dreamsa fidelity of bloodthe first of the blinded eyeto see the bone-white frostand thorns at duskswayed in thebroken troughof skin […]

Read More

a sea dying.

deepens / the eye / and mawkish suckle the moon’s breast to the tree and their leaf white fingers dead / to broken bone and dust to a fitful dreaming / oxbow shores I leave like the foot of a spore / and a sea dying finds me alone. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

Read More

ii.

i. black coat / I see death / in the moon / and hawks nest / one worm / New York drinks the flowers, I could imagine, if I ever had a dream it was not like this / bone split open and blooms / ii. it’s the snow, it’s the / cold / two […]

Read More

I can not find any way alone (ft. Ryan Hair).

As I go through this journey of life, I can not find any way alone. I need you by my side. I need you to be my true north, my compass, and my guide. Subdued, my dear. Unreeling in the emptiness in limb by limb we are dreaming; the wind howls and endures the body […]

Read More

A sea becomes.

Of one memory, one for the end of the dark does not lie, I will not lie in it; darkness perfused I shut the window; here he bleeds, here he lies, though nothing is there. In furrows, mercy, it is laughable. The Earth succinct in waves in a lonely larva the dead poet’s dreams. Stand […]

Read More

moon.

in the echoes to the moonrise and flowers  they look like hand-bones, eclipsed into cursive cold-blooded writ; lucent dream a pilgrimed father at the seabed of darkness, his bones touch the skull-fish; the ghost of owl forgets his repetitions it holds its wings into the winter moon blood-red, it rooks the dying and the tree, […]

Read More

trees and trees.

a foot, a foot eddies in the water; an albatross is glued to the sea with dark littered eyes and the keel sea swallows its feathers in the furrow of air, mouthfuls of offal red, red they eye, then eat; then the womb in cold echoers echoers of blood, blood sleep such a last trawling […]

Read More

“A Lovely Day” by adreamy1.

With the clouds in front, it’s a filthy sky. With the sands flying by, it’s a dirty gust. With the drops filled unjust, it’s a muddy rain. But for the greens in pain, and the boys of vain, and the ones insane, it’s a lovely day. To check out more of adreamy1’s work, go here.

Read More