Drowning

Image Source: leben-bleibt-wirr

Seeping Through

Parts of me The form and shape Of things

Once lost emerge

The soft belly exposed One arm coming free

Fleshy plaster Flakes and crumbles

You my dear, Are disgusted

The plaster on the floor The dust on my mouth The damp spreading stain Coating your fingers.

-Skye

Seaside Graveyard, Orkney Isle

Long after the flowers died I wait here overlooking the sea

This grave of mine grown over with mosses and salt air I wait here overlooking the sea

The place beside me empty and unbroken No stone no whisper of you just me overlooking the sea waiting here

Waiting for my Sailor To return to me.

Moody seaside graveyard, Orkney Isle, Scotland

April 2024

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 Credit: Shusaku Takaoka Source: angiefalaji

Saturday Night on the G Train, 1972 (As told by Old Joe at Valley Vista Rest Home)

Swaying with train car Home bound after a long night of drinking I was looking down At the dirty chipped and gummy tiles Feeling a little sick

I heard the door grinding open And she plopped down in a rustle of beaded lace Sitting legs spread wide Like a man with a come-hither body Topped in a rabbit fur coat Right there in the corner seat Almost across from me

I looked up Into Mona Lisa’s Smirking face

I swear it though no one ever believes me Don’t blame them 1972 was a rough one I really was fucked up back then

But there she was in all her glory That smile I will never forget

She asked me for a cigarette Just before the next stop

And when the doors opened Off she went Clomping a little in her righteous rhinestone platform shoes Right off the train, onto the platform And back out of my life.

Abandoned Honeymoon Suite

Time Transient Taste of deconstruction

The graffiti coats my tongue

The sky ogles the bare mattress   The broken mirror calls back to her Bare naked light

Somewhere in the rubble We are submerged In frothy fragrant water

Somewhere in the motes of dust.

-Skye

Image: Poland,1932 Photography: Henryk Poddebski, Poland 1932 Source: polishcostumes

Dziado

Came from Slavic wheat Farming Polish fields under the sun Breaking bread with his mother and sister At end of day

Peasants they owned nothing Not the land Not the wheat Not the roof above them On cold winter nights

War washed him from the continent And off to America With his wife and baby girl

And though he is long dead I still see him

Caring for his cows Feeding his pigs Cooking his eggs With his garden onions Under his own roof.

-Skye

Image Subject: Friedemann Vogel Ballet Dancer Photographer: Not known Source:Peepchic

Defying Gravity

Defying Gravity is possible Consider when you left me I stayed in perfect Balance In defiance Of the inescapable Magnitude Of Your

Receding

Just prior to crashing to the ground.

-Skye

Walking

The sky is milk The sea is quicksilver The beach is leaden

No birds No nimble crabs Just human passengers Traveling along the break of day

-Skye

Pysanky - Ukrainian Easter eggs - photographed in 1981.

Preparing for Easter

I wonder who thought of this to take an egg and blow its guts out

To pass the yolk and white into a bowl discards for morning scramble or cheese omelet

Then with wax and fine brushes decorate with exquisite patience an empty shell