The Sea, in Chorale Prelude

 

The sea begins in silence—
a breath held beneath the sky,
as if waiting for permission
to sing again.

Its waves roll in,
not with fury,
but with purpose,
each one a chorale prelude,
solemn, ancient,
laced with salt and memory.

The wind lifts a phrase from the surface,
carries it inland,
where no one listens
but the grasses
and the bones beneath them.

A gull cries—a minor chord,
sharp enough to open the air,
and somewhere,
beneath the tide’s patient breath,
a shell spins its echo
like a cathedral holding onto music.

There is no final note.
Only the long cadence
of water falling into itself,
again and again,
until even the moon
forgets
what it meant to pull.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics. Thank you for your kind comments and visits. 

Between the pavement and sky

 

Inspired by Lou Bega - Mambo No. 5

One, two, three, four, five, 

everybody's in the bar, so let us write. 

The air, hums, like it remembers a song. 

not a loud one— but something soft, 
half-sung by power lines 
and the distant hush of tires on wet asphalt. 

 

I move through it slowly, 
as though  

the street might dissolve beneath me, 
the pavement is warm, 
cracked in places where stories seep, 

I am careless enough to try, as you can see. 

 

[Chorus] 

 

A little Bit-O-Honey bars for my pain, 

a little bit of Charleston Chew explained, 

a little bit of poetry is all I need, 

a little bit of lyricism here and there.

A little bit of Milk duds in the rain, 

a little bit of Red Hots, go insane,

a little bit of Twizzlers makes me sway,

a little bit of Snickers to end my day. 

 

Windows blink with silent color. 
A curtain stirs in a building I’ll never enter. 
A bird crosses overhead, 
its wings carve through the stillness, 

men no longer serenade women  

nor make them bloom like amaryllis. 

 

The world feels paused, 
not asleep, 
just listening— 
to the low music in the wires, 
to the gentle weight of sky pressing against glass, 
to the rustle of air remembering, 

I wonder what it takes for a lullaby 

to be woven from the hush of traffic. 

[Chorus (slowed)] 

 

A little Bit-O-Honey bars for my pain, 

a little bit of Charleston Chew explained, 

a little bit of poetry is all I need, 

a little bit of lyricism here and there.

A little bit of Milk duds in the rain, 

a little bit of Red Hots, go insane,

a little bit of Twizzlers makes me sway,

a little bit of Snickers to end my day.

Some days, the air tastes of iron and rain, 
others, of fire and forgotten green. 
Clouds drift like strangers overhead, 
unaware of the hunger down here 
and thirst for space. 
 

I am restless, I drift, unseen, through alleys 

and courtyards, 

between the pavement and sky, 
I exist like a breath held too long— 
 

Hush now, world, in smoke and blue 

the city sleeps and so must you, 

just close your eyes  

and think of something sweet,  

skittles, dots, twix and sugar babies.  

Five, six, seven, eight! 

 

[Chorus (upbeat)] 

 

A little Bit-O-Honey bars for my pain, 

a little bit of Charleston Chew explained, 

a little bit of poetry is all I need, 

a little bit of lyricism here and there.

A little bit of Milk duds in the rain, 

a little bit of Red Hots, go insane,

a little bit of Twizzlers makes me sway,

a little bit of Snickers to end my day.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics. Thank you for your kind comments and visits.