Green Sky
In the deep green sky
Colorful birds fly and sing
Outer space looking planet earth
(Hour Nineteen-Maritza M. Mejia)
Want
That’s the world I want
Alone with only you
The only one who sees me
The one who knows me true
Holding back intruders
Who insult my face
Sealing closed my heart
Now dwelling in your space
Shelter now my soul
Bring me, make me home
Element burned sacred
I no longer wish to roam
Worn out from the journey
I beg, give me rest
Taking gentle finger
Hair across your chest
Head in bowed affection
Kiss now my third eye
Take me in your whisper
Beyond the darkened sky
Every secret fall
And you judge me not
You save me from this Hell
Purgatory has forgot
#18 Evening Fog
On the twelfth hour
Felt the haze setting in
That dreadful evening fog gaveway
To loss of motivation
Plundering on
Drinking my brew
Evening fog gone
Now a morning haze
On the twenty-second hour
That dreadful evening fog left Perhaps too late
Linens
Bedding coiled around my boyfriend’s legs
waits for me to smooth it out and conform it to my own twists and dances with sleep
Dream State: I’m coming for you.
Battery Operated…
He played a toy 3-string Banjo
in front of Walgreens on 39thSt
He’s a soldier from
Oklahoma
He wouldn’t talk
Homeless
been there
done that
a breath away
everyday
Today he used a
battery operated
razor to shave
his head in the cold
To me, he’s
part of the neighborhood
I got more out of him
than most
That’s me
Brisk winds blow
I buy him lunch
Snow came and
he was gone
Razors
banjoes
My Oklahoma
homeless
soldier
lunch
at
McD’s
#23
Second chances
none here
After 23 hours
if the words
hit the page
the rage
stage
pays
to keep me
out of a cage.
Hour 19 Infinite space
Traversing from earth to
my favourite planet
with rings
I got stuck or pulled
by a planet in between
I know not what
Begging to let me loose
back to earth
as it knew the only earth.
Copyright © Snigdha
Cloud Mountain
Marvelous day
Joyful celebration
Even with clouds
In though moments
Watch the mountain with a smile
(Hour Eighteen-Maritza M. Mejia)
Use to Be (Hour 23)
There was a way she held her head,
cast her eyes across the interior of her hands,
then looked to me for help to understand.
There use to be a presence upon the mattress beside me,
a softly breathing heat that I would listen to before returning to sleep,
a quiet comfort I never fully appreciated at the time.
There use to be a laughter,
a smile occupying my passenger’s seat,
playing with the radio,
and fumbling maps from inside the glovebox.
There used to be a sound of water pouring coming from the kitchen sink,
the splash of dishes,
the sound of heated oil in a frying pan,
the smells that hint of culinary plans luring me to watch her operate the stovetop,
hoping to get a taste of the specialty she makes.
There use to be a side of me,
that laughed with full bravado, fearlessly,
unafraid of tomorrow’s emptiness,
unaware of the length of eternity.
There use to be a love for card games, coffee shops, and rain soaked walks in cemeteries.
Now there is only a love to live within those memories.
Jellicle
Oh to be a jellicle cat
Dance the jellicle dance
Live the jellicle life
Sing the jellicle song
Undoubtedly it’s marvelous and nice
Be reborn and rejoice in the glow of your jellicle self
Mr. Mistoffelees and I wish you well
RIP Spooky