The Chef

For Skylover’s Word List. A word list for thinking persons. I wrote poems about Dorian Grey and his life and times for my PhD in Fine Arts. This is an old old poem re-written using words from the Word List. And this one is for Shay who loves my poems about Dorian Grey. The List For December: https://www.instagram.com/p/B5hHd0alUQN/ And for the prompt at dVerse Poet’s Pub. I am not sure if it is an “apostrophe”.

The Chef
“A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.” Rabindranath Tagore

Dorian Grey watched the sun
sinking below the horizon,
lambent, flickering out of sight.
chained stars gave the illusion of light
and false camaraderie.
He took the needle filled with
heroin and injected it into his veins.
Beside the trash cans outside the restaurant
he looked again at the stars,
with no curiosity.
in this life he was a chef.
he wore the illusion like a tatty robe
and soon, in the dawn
he would strip it from himself.
indecision – should he hang himself
at dawn or continue to live?
he pulled the needle from his arm.
no. he would continue to live
cursed with eternal life.
he didn’t need to die.
he only needed to look at his portrait.
the chained stars needed to be set free –
he didn’t think he had the strength.
he went back inside to finish the night shift.

Curtain of Night

A quadrille for De who hosts today at Dverse Poets Pub. A quadrille is a poem, any form, sans title, of exactly 44 words using the prompted word. The word today is “crack” or any variant of the word crack.

strong>Curtain of Night
“I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.” – Jack London

the earth passes through the remnants
of Tempel-Tuttle asteroid.
Fire flies past quicker than thought,
in the blackness of the night,
the curtain cracks
letting the stars pour forth.
sit motionless and silent
becoming one with the stars.
gaze through the window of night.

Stars

Stars
“Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them.”
― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

I remember riding in the backseat of the car
while my father drove mama and I
home from a trip.
I would look out the back window
at the blackness of the night.
I was always amazed at the way
the stars followed us home.

Haibun: The Watch

Haibun: The Watch
“Those we love never truly leave us, Harry. There are things that death cannot touch.” – Jack Thorne, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child: Parts One and Two

An early leaf burning: smoke wanders and its incense drifts to heaven. The voices of cicadas are silent now in the stand of cedars on the hill. I go to the pile of stones gathered from daily walks down to the creek and back. I bring one back and place it carefully on the pile. I began years ago with the death of friend, and then the death of my mother and the three suicides of friends last July and the death of my cousin Billy last October. I also place a candle in a gallon jar, that will burn though the night. The night will be cloudy, the stars unseen. But that doesn’t mean the stars aren’t there, just hidden from view. Like the loved ones gone before. I will sit on my back porch and watch the candle through the night, keeping watch, drifting in and out of sleep, of dreams. I sit entranced in the midst of the haiku I wish I could write.
the silent cedars
on the hill bear witness
to unseen stars

 

Extinct Moon

Extinct Moon
“Now that I’m older, I have a much better appreciation of nature, and I love being alone.” – Gia Coppola

from this day forward
I am wedded to the stars.
the moon becomes extinct,
no longer shines
guiding us along our way.
I’m trying to be like the stars in the sky
shining on nothing;
waiting till the end of my days,
for you.

Night Music

For my prompt at Wednesday Muse

Night Music
“And the night shall be filled with music…”- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

in the summer night I listen
to the cicadas singing to the moon.
down the road apiece
a dog howls in response.
the sound of my breathing is loud
in comparison.
the moon and the stars listen to the music
of it all and say nothing

Sevenling: A Little Night Music

Sevenling:  Night Music
“Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!” ― Bram Stoker

in the warm summer night
music unites the voices of frogs, crickets,
cicadas and flying bats.

stars sing tales of travelers
and lovers and magicians
and lonely folk like me.

And every night they sing just for me.

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