The Dead Sea

Artist: Nester Formetera Source:peepchic

The Last Kiss

We came together in the end Lips pressed close Eyes closed to who we had become Just before parting.

-Skye

Source: hella-compendium

Misty Mornings Next to the Potter’s Field

A dark angel inhabits the margins Coming into the field on misty mornings To dance with the funeral horses Resting there

They come up from their dozing To sway with the angel Unfurling her raven wings They prance solemn and slow As if pulling a hearse In black feathered headdress Through throngs of mourners Tearful and morose

The crowning sun touches the dew She dissolves away with the mist The horses lower their heads Nibbling the clover in morning’s bliss.

-Skye

This is Wyoming 

The barbed fence undulates into the horizon The long rollers of the deep old sea feathered with grass Dotted with pronghorn and ghosts of buffalo

Capped in bright sky

The great plain The red car zipping Through the simmering tar

The woman almost 50 The woman bright and lively after 70

Talk rolls back and forth

Some thunder

There have always been hard lines Etched in old oceans There has always been wind cutting across the plane Changing everything

 -Skye’s Poem

Image source: mikemelrinho

Beltane

Be merry and drink to the verdant Lord of the Wood The earth waking as we frolic The Lord waking this very hour As you ravish me beneath the bower.

Dressed in cloth of wood and field The Lord strides out to join the dance Regal in his leafy splendor Wise knowing grin, gaze fierce and tender.

Darkness gathers and the fire licks the sky The Lord is dancing faster now We follow in like cadence Spilling our mead, full of revelry But utterly devoid of prudence.

The morning comes the Lord retreats Back into the misty glen Pious life resumes, muddled we retreat from the ring of stone But how can I forget you dear, nine months hence, Raising our “Merry-begot” alone.

-Skye

Image Source: Brassai, circa1946 Source: letaobloquista

Brassai Roaming Paris

After the churning of buildings and bodies After the round ups of 75,000 Jewish citizens After the ovens to the east stopped their burning

The streets were swept The babies boomed And lovely ladies once again wore real silk stockings

You saw them stop for moment

The baby was sleeping

The headlines were posted Every word shouting LARGE FONT BLACK and BOLD

“Francais! Reveillez-vous!” “Aux Hommes d’Ordre et de Bon Sens”

She gave his arm a Contented almost sleepy Squeeze

Politics was politics again Life was life again

The baby woke up and began to cry.

-Skye

Title: “Craving for Power” Author: Ilo Kunst Medium: Pen and ink on paper. Source:Beautifulbizarre.

Mad Kings with Blood on Their Hands

Psychotic Charles IV slew his own knights

Paranoid Ivan T. tortured subjects on Saturday afternoons

Oh, and don’t forget George III ranting incoherently as

America broke away Swearing off kings forever…

-Skye

Title: Levitate Artist: MIKKO RAIMA Source: dadalux

Levitation

Rising fast the trees can’t keep you From being carried away You are dissolved light Mere bubbles in a watery atmosphere Stirred by the moon.

-Skye

Artist/Work: Alexander Calder, from the “Circus” portfolio, 1964 Source: museums.msstate.edu

Timing

Catch me like there is no net My dear I am counting on you

I am the first of us to Let go

To believe With outstretched Hands

In the moment One reaches For love

Timing is everything A net will not Stop the fall

Hearts still Break.

-Skye

Image source: Personal work inspired by the Vastra-Haran housed in the National Museum New Delhi

River Bathing

Bathing women are both vulnerable and dangerous Clothes undefended on the shore Bodies unfurling among the reeds.

Photographer: Tunguska  Source:  hknnvk

Death of My Muse

While you were sleeping I etched a poem across your back In soft gentle pen strokes Aching with love for you

You didn’t stir Not once You remained softly breathing Miles away from Me

In the morning my words for you are faded Smudged across the sheets Smeared across your skin

Divine inspiration in an astounding State of decay I have no more words for you in the harsh light of day.

-Skye