In the time before;
But always after,
A wayward in-between.
Each completed,
Perhaps washed, but still wet.
Among poplars and willows,
Vibrant grass greens,
Accompanied by the lapping of
Ocean blues.
We lay-
Naked.
A wheel
Made of intangible lead,
In the centre space,
Between our heads.
Upon the spinning,
Comes the spitting,
Or a careful rejoice,
In their “gift”?
Blatant indifference,
At
my eyelashes,
Stapled
to my face.
The hook on my lip,
Single-handed puppetry.
How
much,
Everyday,
Can
I stuff into-
My
head hurts.
Not the noticeable ones,
Went sinking,
Cranium
is broken,
Top
is off like a carved pumpkin.
All I fucking want is love.
At the easel she so wondrously sat,
Blankness, nothingness stared back.
Thinking for an eon,
But more like a minute,
She picked up her sword,
And began to carve out the world.
In it there was dimness,
Shadows of obscurity,
Splashes of grey, slivers of black.
But like any world,
Through the billowing clouds,
And haze of the rain there drenching,
Came royals and jades,
The vibrancy of the oceans.
Magentas and tangerines,
As the setting sun burst, through-
The gloomy blobs,
Leaking tears from the sky.
Taking a breath,
Rather; gasping for air,
She leaned back.
A vacant canvas,
Disappeared with the wind.
When the instant came,
Her piece of mastery,
Her best;
Was bid bye-bye.
But, not so she-
Could gluttonously roll,
In the filth of wealth,
Or soil her soul,
With superficiality.
But because in the beauty,
Which she had formed,
She saw what was essential.
In her construction,
Of her ultimate fantasy,
She acquired the splendour,
Of her innermost mystery.
As so came royals and jades,
The vibrancy of the oceans.
Magentas and tangerines,
As the setting sun burst.
If you have enjoyed AlyssaJane's Poetry, then please be certain to e-mail her at geri_60[at]hotmail.com and thank her for posting her Work.
Click here for a list of all of AlyssaJane's Stories and Poetry at Sapphic Voices Authoresses.
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