Cross Country Season

Photo by Philip Ackermann on Pexels.com

The sun shrugged its temperamental rays

onto dancing dandelions — if I remember.

Weeks of cramps finally swelled high in my lungs

As I jogged alongside the turf,

miles behind the real victors of the season.

Heave-ho.

Heave-ho.

I was in a mood today.

A corny song of childish love rattled in my head

to the rhythms of the swaying inhabitants

dotting the side of the highway.

“Alyssa, mon ami…

Alyssa, mon cheri…”

A guitar, freshly plucked, backs the ambience

from the likes of my therapist’s office

and warns me about the gentle drop of leaves

well into Californian winters.

God knows, our former running aficianado needed it more

because this year, she was no longer with us.

I think I saw her crying about it last summer,

o road of the autumnite marathon mock-ups.

Whom else am I wought to share my memories with

except with ghosts of my idyllic past

lounging around somewhere in the local playground?

…and so, the streth stretched out into a hill

down which I tripped, traipsed and skipped

so I could tell the team and the day: I tried.

Shin splints are retractable, but

who will help me replace the stone

in my heart, sown of autumn semblances

on a familiarly new road that

begged for new memories to bloom

and mutual friends to rein it in?

I was in a mood today.

Changeling

Photo by Moose Photos on Pexels.com

I glided across the sidewalk in chiseled harmony

And a rhapsody above me played

A restless song of strings and scherzoes

Until classtime brought to a halt my private parade.

*

Weather warps are rapid, here in Pleasantville —

A sauna day outside from fair-winter fans

Indeed, to blast me some of its coolness

As false relief trickles through my veins.

*

Teacher can tell me all that fell on naught

That eventually, one day, I’ll come to rue;

But for now I’ll the harvest this season’s limelight

Featuring perfectly, fearfully, made-fully…you.

Mirage


Waves of post-summer heat

rippled through afternoon’s lonely lil’ lot

like the contractions in my chest

and rhythmic pounding of tennis shoes

against the sun-weary gravel,

feet carried by the languid shrug

of a melody spilling over my life span

or at least what I know of it till now.

The buzz of anticipation

offers no solace

in seeing the one I love and fear

materialize into my mind

before finalizing into the

painful notion called “reality.”

And yet, I requisite no action either

for whatever is realer than my real

is all the worse for my chakra.

And I ponder all this

while the heat strikes my blazer

worn to reflect my image reincarnate —

arose

like the tears in my eyes

that turned the vicinity blue and green —

and crashed

bringing down a cacophony of

memories and snippets and anything

substantial.

And so I’m

running running running

as yesteryear’s autumn shadows

slink in front of my path.

Perchance,

what a pleasure to see all and nothing

in the sad summer heat.

At least I see color again.

And with that said,

I bravely meander

from bomb-shelter of a school to the car,

for today’s survival game is complete.

In the meanwhile

I pray I won’t spill my guts,

and with them

my feelings for you

borne out of freak chance

and absurd timing.

I’m Just So

Emotional frustration.

*****

I’m so-o-o

Lonely —

Look at the ducks bathing for their daily love ritual!

The river mollusks are cheering on the show and…

I’m so-o-o

Alone

Without our aura to

Splash my life into endless hues

Like the blue-belled blossoms interwining

Over the river bed which we call home —

They’re dancing to the rhythm of the

Wind chimes, see!

I’d dedicate you to one of myself;

But what would you say if I lost two?

Feel my pulse beside me,

And peer into

The mellow-sallied sun, abiding its sweet time;

Cast your bond so we can cement two memories into one quintessential moment:

THIS.

Put this one in a Hallmark card already!

Image result for prom room

In my Russian community, if someone graduates from a Russian-based school, they get a “White Ball” to celebrate in their honor. We also give them a gift. Sis drew the cover for a card while I, being the poet, had to think of a one-stanza poem to fit inside.  If you have any related events where you give a card prior to a graduation dance or prom, and you don’t know what to write — use THIS! 

***

Another ball to dance the night away

A rite of passage is yours today

Cheers, music, laughter and the jive

What a joyous day to feel alive!

***

Tweak as you see fit. 

Is It You?

Image result for house at night
Courtesy of: Niklas Agevik

This week in:  a lonely stargazer finds comfort in the littlest things.

***

“Is it you?” I asked an ancient oak of green

The trees bowed their cloaks to the wind

I thought I heard them sigh

When to the sky they grinned

And gave me no reply

*

“It it you?” I queried of Garbage Cat

He was busy playing Master of Diguise

Till Twolegs witnessed his nocturnal play

He looked on with beady eyes

Before he snuck, skipped and scampered away

*

“Is it you?” I entreated one of my own

Warm was their homely circle of light

That enclosed them here and nigh

Together! Laughter! Love! Such was the sight

I almost waved and said hi

*

Nature and Night, they brought an ear to lend

From lamppost sidewalks to the mango grove

They had a voice, and I a friend

God help me, I’ll find the one I love

And I WILL find the one I love…

*

This might have to be revised some. We’ll see, though.

 

Is the Outer Dark Reflecting Our Inner Souls Again?

I don’t even know how to describe this.

*****

The sun’s time to sleep

Earlier is nigh

Meanwhile at home,

My soul is dry.

I’ve had a share of days,

Bad were few

But in this time

The sun knew

How to capture my inner sense

Of disturb, and distrust.

And of depression,

To be sad I must

Of every fleeting thought

That ruffles me.

“Fie!” I say,

“The dark is just for sleep

To hibernate a while

Then awake

In glory, peace and a waning smile.”

*****

Comment your thoughts — don’t be a stranger!