“Tread Softly”

Days turn to weeks
Weeks to years
Yet, I
Have not forgotten
The promises we made
Beneath purple stars and
Ribbons of green
That danced over velvet canvas
Where the moon sees all secrets
We laid ourselves bare
beneath her lidless eye
There
We birthed love
Singing verses in hushed tones
Still they echo
Like reverberations in the snow
Where a whisper becomes an avalanche
The world changed
Covered in white, virginal and new
Reborn we were
Into life, into love
Into hope
Into a world young with excitement
We cannot unmake what we created
Only build
Until our forms are but specters in the sky
Towering colossus
Until we again collide

© M. Black, 2020 All rights reserved

“The return”

Once, i
Swam the deepest of oceans
Fearless
Building monuments to failures and
Celebratory toasts for the damned
We ran
Through fields of mystery
Dodging dangerous figures
Some within
Some without
Yet i
Have never felt alone

Though older now
They still call to me
Those oceans
As my cathedrals have fallen
To disrepair and dust

It seems
There is yet work to be done
So i
With arthritic hand
Carefully place new bricks
In the shadow of what was
And in hope
That if i build them tall enough
You will see it
And we
Will return

© M. Black, 2020 All rights reserved

“Concupiscence”

To say
That i have need
Implies a weakness, frailty of skin
Yet
It is not the flesh that binds
But something ineffible
Something
To which even poets cannot ascribe
Titular statements
Only pale reflections,
Unflattering,
Imperfect,
Human, but
Beyond

© M. Black, 2020 All rights reserved

“For now”

Late night cigarettes and
Midnight coffee
The smells send me to another place
Another time
When your hand was just there
And a smile ever-ready
Where shadows danced only for us
And the stars sang a tune only we
could hear
Where cows became kings and
Crickets became explorers of great reknown
Where the world turned only at our request
Another place
Waiting for a return
It seems
We must wait a bit longer

© M. Black, 2020 All rights reserved

“Of Late”

I find myself beset with a sort of melancholy
for which there seems to be no cure
despite my many attempts to abscond,
slip away to the shady corner of a regular haunt
daring not to hope its dull repetition may
offer some respite, a sensation of belonging, peace
Though, I am well aware, that I
will find no such satisfaction
exterior sources cannot balm the wound that I inflicted
for this enemy I face, this woe that confounds me
is but my own creation, and therefore, I may only
hold expectation of self
for this is where I will find peace

© M. Black, 2020. All rights reserved.

“Resting in Peace”

Incoming message from
Aquaintance, decade of quiet betwixt
Said she was thinking of me
A kindness, until I respond
Unexpectedly
How was i to know
She thought i was dead
Laughter, mine in private room
As upon realization that i yet live
It seemed she lost interest in speaking
Perhaps she wanted to feel something
Or
Perhaps some seek the dead
To carry secrets of the living
Either way
A pitious abuse
Of resting soul

© M. Black, 2020 All rights reserved

“Unimpressive”

Darling
Did you think
That you would take me
To battle of wit?
Did you think
We would have contest
That I would engage you as my equal?
Did you think
That you were the first
That things were bright and new
Just for you and no other
Did it not occur
Some things
Have existed long before your birth
And will remain
Long after you’ve gone
Oh darling
How disappointing
For us both

Not even exceptionally unimpressive
“Mediocre”
At best

© M. Black, 2020 All rights reserved

“Realism Reacts”

Why does it seem
that action often yields
a result, opposite of intent?

Knew a man who wore a scarf
year-round, sensitive skin
conscious of appearance, he
attempts to conceal his face
only draws the eye
of curious, distrustful folk
each peering at him
“tell me your secrets”

Knew a girl who asked her lover
the reason for his ire
gentle reminder of daily habits
continued life together,
his health in mind
he responds with a slammed door
calls her demanding, nag
“she won’t leave me alone”

Somewhere, a mother shields her son
one time too many
and he becomes dependent
incapable of unsupported existence

Ripples of action
distribution of energy
result of movement
unexpected consequence
further proof that we
live alone, in our minds
even empathy
is filtered through bias
experience of self
understanding by comparison
and still we take offense
to any outcome but what is expected

Egocentric entities, seeking
reinforcement of self image
help can be but hindrance
to those such as these

© M. Black, 2020 All rights reserved.

“Slow Suicide”

the not-homeless homeless guy is back
the asshole in the wheelchair
flips people off, yells obcenities
lives in the same apartments as my friend
real slum of a place
but I’ve seen worse
not sure why he’s bitter
but he seems as interested
in offending as he does
in begging
I think he’s trying to get himself
hit by a car
he’s parked in the middle
of the parking lot
around a blind corner
for no apparant reason, and
he’s smoking a cigarette
just parked there, where
people drive too fast
I wonder what he’s thinking

© M. Black, 2020 All rights reserved.