the zoo inside

loves dozen roses of nonsense

absorb the tears

bowing scarlet faces

like captives not yet freed,

unable to see the stony sky

witness to this fall

grey wet clouds furrow

sun struggles to shine,

she knelt thinking of his heart

as a homeless man

moving into oceans waves

shouting at the albatross

with salt tainted voice,

he was baptized

and she became afraid

of the creatures inside him

lurking with their brutal flesh

beyond fables tale,

waves over him

spray and foam he fell

swept out

her tears continued to fall

standing

walked into the garden

with a ghost of no return

his path named as a storm

that rent open her gates

she could not hold anymore

restless memories

and vertical shining eyes

it would be a fresh start

guitar ambulance

up in the air

heart blighted by wings,

each note picked

sends shudders,

listening absorbing

finding notes,

while putting pen to paper,

lyrics at once

strange formed on white,

in his mind a pattern

of mismatch shapes

clumped together

ill fitting,

the sound became jagged,

heart swooped and dived

plunging to icy ocean,

she had not been at

the forefront of his mind,

hidden at the back

yet now needed to write

about her,

wrap her in lyrics

tatooing her flesh in words

that had meaning,

thumb and fingers

move over strings,

a  stranger pain appeared

no respite

allegro

breath quotations

tear at corner of eye

string snapped

lurched into a silence

that now could not be filled

Portrait of Things

a handful of ocean

to replace the tears,

that stung razor cut aqueous humor

pressured by fluid on cheeks

and tasted at corners of mouth,

in her protective nest

among the rushes society grew,

her temptation an anchor

buried in water and weeds

souring by the day,

soiled tongue darkened by

language and apprehensive pain

of words that can hurt,

she had left him behind

the one who became a shadow,

yet her cleft had known his

two fingers

and tobacco kiss ,

rising up on tidal swell

she placed herself away

into the corner

until he had definitely gone,

the powder of air

would fall and settle,

and finding strength

climb from nest

onto another’s cotton shoulders

and exaggerate her heart

artist ; Isabelle Rolles

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/sunday-mini-challenge-dolls-revisited.html

 

Contemporary Feel

kiss her salty forehead

eyelashes smell like burnt toast

from the fierceness of tears

caught by angers inferno,

locomotive aorta

flicking beating faster,

then my hand stroking hers,

universe questioned in hazel,

my lamp lit blue wait

to respond,

i feel as blank as the sky

a traveler without path,

kisses no more unfurled

she pulled back,

the other hand drenched

in bitter spray of words,

before leaving,

i am a man with means

to render and isolate anger

to a pile of dust

this house she burned in

exhausted now slowly rotting

i loathed to take her in

moving amongst  my things

leaving her touch

on every waking

and sleep

 

No Knife Dead

mirrored moon rose

beyond a glimpse

and filled that darken void

with illumination,

clouds retracted

as if pulled on strings,

sky marionettes

of many shapes and forms

attempts to disclose

the opal modesty,

beneath dehydrated

of it’s light,

lakeside captured images

in mind and water,

fragmented moments

of illusion lit by synapses,

bare flesh 

prickled by cold

still unresponsive,

to all kisses and touch,

butterfly fingers finding

a life of there own,

yet nothing,

plans had gone awry,

sequences had not been 

followed,

yet the result same,

celebrating with whiskey

would be drawn

into unclean glasses,

a toast to sky

and what galaxies lay

beyond,

tomorrow would be fulfilled