Edgar allan poet
...Dedication Is Key
-Pearl S. Buck
Newly Published Poems
& Voice Blogs
Thank you Muses Review
Poem of the Year Nominee 2010!
[From A Song Beneath Silence]
That Whiskey Blue Sway
(For Herman Jackson)
Fingers fierce and
fragile
dance the porcelain fire away,
setting ebony to ivory
against the white of evening lights…
Tonight, even the houseflies
have their sway and swagger,
ghosts will stride
with secrets placed pocket-deep
and everyone knows
where the whiskey flows--
Cigarette
to flame,
fingertips to quiet lips,
a melody unbroken beneath
the veil of whispering…
She’s
got that whiskey-blue sway
Across the ballroom
her eyes are invitations
She wears these blues
like a little black dress
Flowers
peek
from the tuck of curls,
(all red and smiling)
hips set to boogie and bass,
a swing of taunt
against eyes and their flight
And
tonight
patterns emerge
from black and white
as an un-masked clown
sits dim in the corner,
chasing the madness to glow
The smoke and music fills,
unmoving in its sway;
unlost within the depths of corners,
we become poetry written
on cocktail napkins
and the rhythm that moves
the night to a crawling groove.
Apryl
Skies © 2010
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Coming Of Rain
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * *
A Song Beneath Silence, a collection of 68 poems and 18 photographs by Apryl Skies. This
book has been broken into four chapters to define artistic style and tone.
Lyrica
Chapter One
* * * * *
Imprints ~ The Trilogy
Im
Imprints - The Trilogy
I.
Somewhere
among these
faces
and empty spaces,
wandering
between the static
and these echoes
I found myself,
lost…
Chasing down rubies,
but finding only
diamonds and
darkness
in this concrete
quiet
Drifting past
stars,
cars and scars,
strangers
holding onto the dusk,
leaving memories
in the dust,
silence, wind-turned
to song
Can anyone hear me?
As Tom Petty
bleeds through
radio waves,
dialed of distance…
Tonight, I have
forgotten wings,
forgotten the
blue that folds you,
but I have
painted my lips in roses,
scented my hair
in hope
and through this
darkness
naked hands
grasp,
glove-pressed to
wheel,
angeled always
in the musical magic
of thunder…
II.
Shadows stir
as a phantom’s
dreams
dance the black
magic of your soul,
pacing the
silence of song
as fear lies
quiet against rain,
against fate, against
distance,
against…
What can be found when
there is nothing left to lose?
With a kiss pressed
lips to darkness,
I am hushed of
broken
silhouettes,
setting the
mirror-burn
to blurred
reflections,
staring back,
set free to sing
with the yellow
bird
Barely
breathing,
arms open and
empty;
behind a cold,
foggy pane,
a breath lay
heavy
of quiet secrets
only winged
hearts can fathom…
III.
Impressions;
of tide-swept
footprints
on a winded,
September shore
Imprints of
sound beneath silence
brush like
memory
upon auburn sands,
imprints of lies
laid in stone,
burning, flame
to ash…
Can anyone see me at all?
Reflections fade
slowly-soulful,
sepia to
cardboard corners
distant of
remembrance
I need the
touch,
the touch of
hands and angels,
a simple touch
of fate,
the
broken-fragile of flame…
Somewhere
among these
faces
and empty spaces,
wandering
between the static
and these echoes
I found myself,
made of glass…
* * *
Why, when holding back the fray of our unraveling,
sculpted of a
quiet dusk, trundling skyward
toward our
impatient, rhythmic breaths,
in unison; a curious, soul-shined radiance,
curling into the
touch of angels
with eyes tired
against the weight
of all timid
graces…
Why pale such beauty with hollow words
said or unsaid
for only a
fleeting cause for dance
in the shallow
depths of my every
waking
imagining…
Why, might I still find
(among tears,
you never knew I shed)
a voice now
broken,
all of shattered
glass and torn silences,
a voice
restrained
though still
echoing songs
of an ocean’s
gentle unsleeping
and find again upon
this pillow
the frailty of
all lost hope…
Why was sacrifice not enough
when the skies
of my private heaven
are batter-broken
in the purr of my cries,
when cathedrals
built of constellations crumble
under the measure
of my mirrored reflection,
when stars too
frail to shine,
fall to ruby
dust at my feet
and I am washed
of raindrops
I can no longer feel…
Why, when my heart was folded
and placed in
your hands,
written of word
and burned as pyre
…have I not yet come undone?
* * *
A Simple Love Song
For The Complicated
I want to swim
in the ocean of
your soul,
walk the sands
of your he(art)
and leave my
foot p
r
i
n
t
s,
re(arrange) seashells
on the beach to
say, “I love you”
and listen to
the wind waver
those three
little words
back to me
(at least) once more…
The Following Voice Blogs Are From
Elements & Angels ~By Apryl Skies
Available October 2010
There we sat sipping Brazilian blends,
among the béarnaise and Beethoven,
marmalade and fresh bagels
The air; crisp as apples
while light rain tickles tin tables
with curious fingers
Umbrellas spread bird-like
against the sky
and we are submerged
as café clatter shatters
quiet cobblestone conversation
We are warm here by the firelight
where Chopin bleeds
through the kiss of rain,
petting the slosh of puddled boots.
Hungry hounds bound
under canopies
await the breaking of sun
We watch beans roast
and floral skirts sway,
Peripherals capture playful spectacles
as a naked toe climbs a covered pant
leg
Steam rises ghost-like from your cup
and for once your ocean-blue eyes
seem almost pale beneath the gray
The waitresses
they are all spinning again
and through the cling and clang
of empty cups, I hear you whisper...
“One more?”
And my response is always the same…
“I would do anything for you”…
* * *
Red Balloons
We
are grounded
like jasper
as our earthly eyes
rise skyward
toward your descent…
but we wish to chase,
to float as clouds,
so our fingers gift the sky
and angels grasp the threads
of our red balloons…
We are in mourning
like the doves,
but we are silent
without song,
without reason.
As uncertainty
blinds our hopes
and breathes our souls
without exhale.
We are reborn
as a child cries,
a soul finds place
and as our final words
birth love…
We are ascension and flight
a light in darkness and end
And we are magnetic,
drawn toward a certain spell,
beyond time and spaces unknown,
then we chase, floating as clouds
and we all become angels
grasping at threads
of our red balloons…
Apryl Skies © 2010
