The Morn's Night

An hour ago,

I was a child of fables,

pokeweed.

A tongue roller,

chewer of grass―

I could graft an oak from a twig.

Meanwhile, it's another o'clock;

acorns drop from grown trees.

The moon bellows baritone;

omits the chorus,

replaces it with zees.

Vitruvian sweetness finds me,

springing spreadeagle―

wheel of honeysuckle.

I forget sleep;

shake out the pillowcase,

wrap it around my head

for a babushka―

sound a klaxon,

hail a hackney carriage.

Get to Falkirk.

tk/June 2014


R.A.D. Stainforth adds a bit of magic... 

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*A Game of Patience, 1937 by Meredith Frampton 

Shoot

Dusk is recommended

for modest petticoats.

For best light, wait for the sun

to leave its comfort zone.

Capture rhapsody

in more pixels than God.

Press your head against the earth.

Feel the rhythm.

Coax summer percussion.

Join the conga.  Be seen on the street.

Peonies wear long-stemmed heels.

Ants pluck them tom-tom pink.

Look deeper than June,

past chlorophyll and bees.

Stop searching for color.

Think dappled things.

Roses strut runway red.

Shoot them in monochrome.

tk/June 2014


R.A.D. Stainforth steps out of his black and white world for a lovely summer read:  

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Your Face

The first time,

nostalgia came over me;

like looking at a picture of myself

I had never seen.

I gazed, second person,

mute, hungry voyeur;

your suited and booted margins

pleasingly familiar.

Something sexy happened.

Your eyes spoke;

I could lip-read them.

Hush! this is the year of the tiger.

Let's lunch forever.

Now, a visual condiment;

ferocious but pensive,

piquant, like ketchup

with an indefinite shelf life.

tk/June 2014 


Beautiful read by R.A.D. Stainforth...love how he nearly sings the opening line... 

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Explicit Cake

Progression of days playing

in a constant loop,

a marriage of minds.

The loop is safe;

just what we take,

walking all that is left.

Time hangs in the air.

Oceans dry up.

Paths wind in sentences,

give rabbits chase,

willow to climb.

Curves follow a mutual train,

pause for picnic lunch,

explicit cake.

Done with doing, I wait

for the loop to be installed

permanently; with no way out,

a cul-de-sac. 

tk/June 2014


Scrumptious read by R.A.D. Stainforth...glass of wine with lunch...

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Vitamin

I was anemic:

smelling of mothballs,

cluttered with rejections,

unpaid bills, tired blood,

years of night.

Now a daily swallow.

Kiss swished down with promise.

You taste better than any placebo.

Rinse life clean.

Float. Gulp.

I am dependent.

Convinced you impact mortality.

Supplement everything.

Give me injections.

A horse pill. 

tk/May 2014

Beautiful, contemplative read by R.A.D. Stainforth...

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