Kenneth has a taste for abstract/prose poetry as well as the comical side of life. 23-years of writing for a newspaper has served him well.
Writer's note: this is lovingly dedicated to a man whom I knew a few years ago and this man was so in love with a woman that when he spoke her name, tears rolled from his eyes. The thing that impressed me about him was, the lady who owned his heart was married to another. But yet, she and this guy were "friends." Sadly, this was not enough for this man who inspired this work. I wonder many times if he ever confessed his love to this married woman. And what she might have done or said if he did. Thanks, "Clayton" (not his real name), for the idea. Kenneth
Just dinner, a dance, a stolen glimpse into jeweled eyes
Piercing my failing heart, laboring my breath to where my death lies.
Your cloudy lashes and silken sashes are craved water bead
Your silent wings set softly on my smiles sunrise need.
No sleep for my lids, no crumb for my hunger I just sit
I, the beggar beg, just for a time in candle lit
To be, to see with eyes clearly set on thee
Hair of thieves' pure gold, skin of silk brush at me.
Your lips quietly whisper names and moonlit games
That I ne'er realized and ne'er seized what I aimed.
Am I the fool at your table with servants of many?
Gawking at this pauper's prize once so envied.
My dreams tangle like summer wild vines in May
Hiding your magical touch chasing a red tear away.
Alas, one meal with fairer lady pure
A giggle so light and winks gazing demure.
Whisked to dance my broken stance she spins on toes-a' blur
I tremble, oh God, I tremble at her crying touch and touch the myrrh.
She stops for a moment to see a man broken like me
She ne'er bends, bows, or shows pity in and out of her sea.
I just begged for a crumb of time, a lyrical rhyme
And to sit by fire on her memories all blind.
She smiles a smile of vultures black
And winks an eye of stardust sack.
Nibbling the plant from deathly grounds I own
I gave to her my only wish of dark seed that I sown.
Deafness of ears I whisper to serpent in coil
Tables barking give up you've lost her toil.
A queen of queens a distance so far
Belonging to moon lies and dressing the stars.
A brook lied for her tales of love
I tried to leave her infant burden borne above.
Meal, crumb, a glass of ancient wine
Now ends as hand maidens bow to raped vineyard of mine.
I glare of love from death's own eyes
She just smiles, dances, and rises where a heart beat so lies.
I crawl a bit, can't stamp, curse or spit
She lends a softened hand to my broken bit.
She tries so bravely to hide a laugh of lilt
Now I own another memory made of sandy silt.
Door now closes with her name behind
No books, no poems, no truths to unwind.
Waving a last wave as I crawl in hole so deep
She kisses my soul and oh, how I wish I could weep.
© 2017 Kenneth Avery