Eruption

A dash of flash poetry:

suddenly
the world tilted
like a band
vertical horizon.

fire raining down
from the transposed heaven
on stone

scalded

i clutched the searing
red glow
and found my fingers
charred

and my chest
gaping
like a crater

smouldering.

This was poem was originally written on March 29^th, 2006. Originally, this was entitled Melancholic; that's because melancholy was the emotional weather at that time. Likewise, it says on the first line that this is just a dash of flash poetry. Who said that only prose can be flashy?

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Red Butterfly

Open your cupped hands.

Fluttering away, you will see
the red wings & black markings
fade into the blue.
You will hear at every flap
clapping
from the light bright heart
of your liberated captive.

The wind will take the butterfly away.
You have no need to fret
because the memory will flutter back
whenever you find roses
- drifting in the wind.

Tomorrow, put a smile on & hold this fact true:
If you've held fast today,
you'll only have stains of red & black
- powdered wings and crushed body.
Something will be left - something sure
permanent, indelible, immortal
that neither time nor tears could wear or wash away.

This is still part of Richard's attempt to collect and collate most of his poetry to this blog. This is actually an old poem from March 13, 2005. He wrote this while he was at work.
Richard decided to post this in response to Cecille's comment on Emjay's photograph of a dragonfly.

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Starbucks' Song

tea steams in a paper cup.

the siren's song is defied by ears,
leaves and lips that refrain from coffee.

cigarette smoke swirls.

sipping from my cup, showing no fear of heat,
should encourage you to hold my hands.

breath is blown out.

my eyes encouraged your fingers.
tea leaves on cup-bottom already fortells good fortune.

tea steams in a paper cup. cigarette smoke swirls.
breath held back waiting for silence to break
and Starbucks resumes her song.

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