Poem inspired by the title of Carl Phillips’ poetic masterpiece “Aubade: Some Peaches, After Storm.

Daylight hasn’t touched my heart in months, perhaps it deems me unworthy
as peaches distraught after the storm embrace the ground,
we wake to the insatiable longing for answers hidden in the curves of sky
and disregard this life
all that we are, more or less, but who wants to be warned of the future
when we can eternally be grateful for beauty lost,
I wish to be discovered, to be found no matter how good my soul is at hiding.

There is an autumnal leaf in my heart that refuses to rot, scarlet
the kind that quivers in the wind and dust
the world hates me because they can’t understand the art behind ameliorating,
it’s terrible the way we bring each other down unconsciously
society teaches us pain, teaches us violence,
so what if the sky above is not cerulean
breathe
have you ever wondered where the moon goes in the brilliance of day?
I wish to spend the last few minutes of my life spreading hope
and healing.


I have left some southern cobbler on the table, moderately sweet

in case tomorrow will be dying,
the fervid heat of July presses upon my eyes
if love was water, I’d pour whatever was left on you
there is simply no one else whose memory comes floating into my mind,
you stood by me through the brooding weather
knowing well that it would cost you more than a sigh and few letters,
I wish to be the name on parted lips
when the world slowly fades and clouds come rushing to kiss the earth.

The Poets are marching onward with a heavy load of mind and fire
raging in balled fists,
the sky dipped in tenacity and magenta afternoon
as they stomach the wave of political chaos across the world
what kind of discombobulated times are we living in?
I won’t tell you how to feel, only that a grey thrush has lost its fear
history is nothing more than a shadow of miscalculations
as it turns out:
how easily we become influenced by the practice of logrolling,
how we sit back and let the chips fall where they may
I wish to be the change that relieves the world of murkiness that neither sun
nor moon can penetrate.
Daylight hasn’t touched my heart in months, perhaps it deems me unworthy.

 

Photo credits: Elena Katsyura Painting, Pinterest

Susie invites us to choose an image and write the color πŸ™‚

Posted for Midweek Motif @ Poets United

and for ‘Bits of Inspiration’ @ Real Toads