Every Simple Word

falling from lips like rain from the windowsill
the reverberation of sound
solitary syllables in syncopation

it is the hiss of the yes
the purr that more provokes
goodness like wine on skin

there is a rhythm to it now
a volleying of thought and sound
connotations creating sentences

etched on skin, in the marrow
bones aching to move
union of the tangible and intangibility

we are flowing now
the left and right of hip and sole
turning tables and tonality


every simple word
an exhilaration of the tempo
lean in, let go


until all sound ceases
no thought, only breath
silence rains down



collision of liquid
from earth and sky
utterance of an inaudible yes



shall we try the tango next time?




This poem submitted for Open Link Night @dVerse poet's pub. Link up and contribute one of your own and share the wealth of poetic musings and encouraging feedback. www.dversepoets.com

Auburn Braided Locks

My girls. 

auburn hair with your locks falling down

mother’s fingers, braided crown

how might I make you stay

pale blue eyes have gone astray

auburn hair with your crimson curls

fingers wrapping in a twirl

why must you grow away

brown eyed girl has gone to play

many seek your beauty in a bottle

pour their gold into the hands of tendril artisans

who promise to rival you

though they never can

auburnbraided one so fair

would you dare

trade your locks of copper hair

for momentary wares

you glanced at me momentarily

and back I go

birth of day and light

 crawled your way into my heart that night

slipping through fingers

fumbling with petals unable to linger

softly into the night

would I subdue your flight?

freshly washed, brushed and braided

fold yourself again and again

into my evershrinking arms

press flesh between tiny fingers

brown eyed with wide smile

why must you grow away

blue eyes have walked a mile

how might I make you stay

Take and Eat

bread, earthen and broken flesh

blood-water, crimson drink

a moment of remembrance

prophetic practice of grace

take and eat your piece of me

take and drink the last of my being

take from me the robes of righteousness

not one can take my life from me

deny me, my brother

forget me, slumbering friend

mother spare your tears

I make all things new

father of the forsaken

why demand this sacrifice

cradle life demand it not of me

if another way there still may be

paths have forks

and travelers choices

this night I make mine

thy will be done

Children of the Night

they are the children of the night

creeping up spines as stairwells puckish like

to weave a mystery whilst their victims

lie in wait

they are the goblins of a moon king

hiding behind the sheetrock tempting

words from restless mouths

while they lie in wait

they are the monstrous

doubts and fears of humanity

stirring beneath the dust ruffled complacency

while their prey lie in wait

they are the blissful remembrances

of lovers tender kisses manifest

as imprints on the psyche,

while their paramour lie in wait

they are the prophetic mark

of spirit on subconscious mind

born of communion between human and divine

while their messenger lays in wait

they are the sweet things

of a child’s mental medication

the cookies, milk and teddy bears

that cradle their kind and lie in wait

they are the children of the night,

of fragrance and starlight

of moonbeams and stories told

while dreamers lie in wait

Soldiering on, this is post #4, minutes past midnight. Nevertheless a poem for the day, and appropriately so, the night as well. If you too are joining me on this journey for #NaPoWriMo I commend you and welcome your comments. If any response you make, my response you will receive. Community conversations and for us all encouragement will be found. Write on friends, thank you for your time dear readers. ~ Apryl 

Begin Again

heart man

soul woman

endless awakenings

resurrected hopes

death becomes the boundary

and suppression the only way

to keep him from coming

or so you try

the strength of my wonderings

through parched lands

water waits beneath the surface

selfless union of

body and soul

I miss you

fragrant curiosities of night

languid motion of wild eyes

as sun from east to west

the star’s inability to pierce

atmospheric, resonant light

time alone will tell

the eternities you have taken

hunger for warmth

though he burns me

neglectful care, invisible

thoughtful joining

of bodies and of lives

begins again with

with the elemental motions

of your arm

thumb across my lips

quench the scorched

begin again my love

man was not made

for solitude

This is Day 3 of #NaPoWriMo and I'm submitting this poem for Open Link Night at DVerse Poet's Pub. 

Birthday Box

collecting my annual set of fingerprints

emergence of brown, tattered, simulated warmth

dead bead eyes sewn tight

with the remembrance of how I loved her

the intolerable purple ribbon

opens the tourniquet bound ‘round my heart

all at once I have given myself permission to miss her

the Teddy Bear with her voice box trembling

my name, an I love you, a Happy Birthday

and transmuted the fur into flesh has become

taste the chocolate chip applesauce cake

as the rose sent of her presence intoxicates

the lull of quiet, the inanimate item

soberly shoved back into it’s box

violet ribbon of remembrance bound tight

and pushed back into the closet

and I bury my grandmother all over again

This poem is for day 2 of National Poetry Month... I'm aiming for the 30 in 30. I appreciate your time spent reading these words, inspired by my Grandmother. You know you've loved deeply when an absence is deeply felt. I love you Grandma! 

I Loved You Once

I loved you once, and you loved me

with maddening intensity

through your eyes I learned to see

I loved you once, and you loved me

if only I were courageous, yours I’d still be

though her charms are sweet and witty

I loved you once, and you loved me

with maddening intensity

  

A Triolet posted for #NaPoWriMo. My first of 30 poems that I will post, one for every day in the month of April. I'm looking forward to reading and sharing this poetic plethora of prolific verse with the community of poets who have accepted the challenge to join fellow journeymen as we march across days and pages, write on dear ones.