cherry blossoms pop pink
highlighted with whipped cream petals
cotton candy on chocolate coated cones
bright against sapphire skies lean away
from four rush hour lanes
carve away aesthetic agony of commercial zoned cancer
Your cold silence plagued these last two moons
Hope, once cherished, lies in ruins
A promise rescinded can hold no sway
Such noble vows your actions did not obey
That you were pained, I give my sorrow
Love cannot thrive when the heart must borrow
Ever do the hours creep
toward early twilight and forever sleep
but in these waking days
their dreams they raise.
Lost in distant pastures green
with no regrets for where they’ve been
yet in the end, how can they measure
where all effort seeks only pleasure?
In ages past all day was toil
the only goal to live off plants and soil.
Beyond each milestone the world has passed
Patience lurks, unused, and fading fast
You can see my selected photo here, on Richard Buchanan II’s portfolio site.
Stand at the burial
Of their eroded brothers
Dimpled by earth and sun
Cleans away grief, not hope
If buildings stood here once before
They can stand here again
On the graves of their ancestors
Home may never be the same
But the next generation can always return
This poem was in response to Sunday’s writing prompt.
First made by campfire
Succeeded by rush lights
Candles thought they were supreme—
—Boasting their fine and slender tapers
Oil lamps, the courage of Ocean’s leviathans
Replaced by gas—
—For the upper class
Electricity now runs rampant
Tying us, binding us in coils of wire
All the while
Sun, stars, and moon chuckle from the heavens
At our small attempts to recreate their essences
We are Prometheus
Only moments seemed to pass
since I was torn from plastic home.
You stretched me out, tied me down
pulled me thin, until I sang.
My moments were your weeks
I practiced just like you.
Though I tried
flexibility became elusive—
Breaking free of my binding
I lashed out.
Now coiled in the trash
five fellows and I buried
with broken song.
I see you
pull from naive safety
your next victim.
Great odes he sang her at the fall of night
Upon his form he bid her “do not look”
Torment at sisters’ hands ends love in fright
Too trusting of her will—Eros mistook
With Aphrodite’s game now revealed
Psyche’s apology Eros would not brook
Cast from his company, her fate sealed
Doomed ever to walk the earth alone
His love from her forever concealed