Car Fire
Labels:
bgem,
car fire,
highway,
naquillity
·
A little after 11 p.m. my dog and I walked cloaked in darkness to the stop sign just below our house. When we reached the stop sign I saw puffs of black smoke billowing from a gray car.
I turn to see another police car squeeze his way past 13 cars like a pimple from viable skin. He promptly began urging traffic through. As cars moved along in opposite lane a man got back into his truck and backed to where I was standing with my dog.
I said, "Tell me no one was hurt that they all got out safely." He told me that it was only a car fire not a wreck and that three people were standing outside, safely, when emergency vehicles arrived.
Relieved, I walk back home beneath a slight moon and an air that's honeysuckle thick.
I Remember Me
Labels:
book,
i remember me,
naisaiku,
naquillity,
poesaics,
poetwist,
twitter,
word prompt
·
upon my aging face-page,
wasting no memory.
I Remember Me
wasting no memory
upon my aging face-page,
i search a book writ.
My first attempt at a Naisaiku and
Written for Poetwist's Twitter word prompt: book.
Fetal- Tucked
Labels:
3ww,
birth,
daughter,
dreary,
embrace,
fetal-tucked,
mother,
naquillity,
poesaics,
timid
·
embraced in amniotic fluid
you formed tiny memories
of a mother’s laughter
and a father’s ear acting as
stethoscope against my swelled belly.
you grew viably in a dreary,
black room, fetal-tucked
for nine month’s
waiting to see first signs of
ambient light.
fireworks stung the sky: bruised,
making you timid about your arrival.
when you finally crawled to
the white light I noticed your forehead
was the color of midnight.
Dalmatia
Curiosity leads me away from the highway to watch a horse I affectionately call Dalmatia. His black spots overlay white skin reminding me of a Dalmatian. He's leery of my presence as I linger alongside the pasture's fenceline capturing silent moments between us.
He saunters around his familiar surroundings careful not to approach the stranger speaking foreign language. There, he pauses before sticking out his pink tongue and retreating into the safety of his barn.
Palpable Geometry
Labels:
3ww,
bickers,
fototudes,
naquillity,
nervous,
palpable geometry,
trajectory
·
Sunlight metamorphosis into shadow and back again while chasing the wind into nervous green leaves. Their underbelly, slightly upturned, skews the water's reflection into a myriad of trajectories. Its movement reminds me of minnows swimming a swift current.
Evening light swabs cool shadows across a brown shelled snail whose palpable geometry rests on the center vertebrae of a waterlogged branch. My eyes fall there. He's the first I've seen since early childhood.
Woodland Glade
Labels:
artwork,
john barber,
mprintz,
naquillity,
project 5,
the color pencil wheel book,
woodland glade
·
Last night I drew the above picture, Woodland Glade (project 5), by John Barber from The Color Pencil Wheel Book. Aside from my perspective being off I felt my amateur attempt was a decent one. What do you think? Below is the original by John Barber.
A Strange Letter
Labels:
a strange letter,
caterpillar,
mailbox,
monday poetry train,
naquillity,
poesaics
·
with tousled filaments
fidgets along curved upper lip,
feet tickling black,
as his tiny head
surfaces into abrupt air.
with dizzy curiosity
he situates new footing
like a rock climber
searching a stronger foothold.
curled into a strange letter,
perhaps an L,
he watches us
before enveloping himself
inside the mailbox.
Robin's Nest
Labels:
birds nest,
fototudes,
naquillity,
nest,
robins nest
·
Waterfall #2
Labels:
fototudes,
Grayson Falls,
Grayson lake,
naquillity,
waterfall
·
Our voices echoing between fresh, budding trees and large rock facings are disturbing the fishermen nearby as we continue to penetrate Grayson's beauty. Briars snatch bits of our skin as we continue traveling along unobliging hillsides with piqued ears- reaching a spot parallel to her exaggerated lips. There the camera captures another beautiful song.
Westering
Labels:
naquillity,
poesaics,
westering
·
turns, turns again- deep ticks-
culminating inside
warbling tocks.
black numbers are falling
from her dimpled face-
her hands rising, noon,
in perfect tree formation.
variable geometries stray
from a single fingertip
rotating in the westering wind
like translucent dandelion seeds.
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