Street-walker

God and Folly

It is raining outside.

I am reminded that,
Rain has rhythm.

Rhythm has heart-beat,
A beat, a

Rat-a-tat-tat,

Every city has its gangsters, its’
Street corners, its

Unbelievers, every

Heart has its beat, and
Every beating heart, its’

God,

Where folly is a pink bear,
An African American,

A bionic car round the bend,
Sunlight at last,

Caught,
In the hair,
Of the joggers,

In the difference it makes to,

Walk with a friend,
For a mile or a minute,

Healing,
Not everywhere is fear.

♦photo♦ Laurieanichols Scenes from New York in January

-short evocative poetry-

 

 

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Published in: on January 5, 2016 at 05:48  Leave a Comment  
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Smorgasbord

eartha-kitt-reclining

Smorgasbord, and so
Health,

A dashboard of delights.

Supine could be;
Relaxed on a hospital bed,

Goose down,
Luxurious but bad for your back,

Foam,

Sometimes current but initially,
Uncomfortable,

A sister healed,
A discussion beyond Mum,

Silver hair framing,
Ice-blue eyes,

Wrinkles round a mouth;

Ripe fruit is determined by smell, and
A mango,

Will flood a kitchen with colour.

Who are you now,
Riding on the upper deck to Luton with,

The Book in your lap and,
The Wind in your hair?

Why are you a mango,
Ripe to eat?

When love is alive, or
Dying,

Aroma disperses into cupboards, is
Dispensed across sofas, and

Out walking I thought,
A million dollars can change everything.

– have your wings clipped but clip them yourself,
spoof your location, so health.

Angels are born everyday.

♦picture♦ – Eartha Kitt, Wikipedia

evocative short poetry – words move

Published in: on August 27, 2015 at 01:09  Leave a Comment  
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