The Hollow Place

#poetry, Uncategorized

Her feet walk the wild waves of the sea

Waves biting back at the heels of her hollow feet

Hollow,

changed by the creatures who lurk below

watching her with curiosity

will she make it?

They just don’t know.

 

And so

she walks

they wait

they watch

their eyes follow every speck of splashing water

darting in every different direction

always somewhere new.

 

She almost wished for a welcoming-

a homecoming

as though she belonged beneath it all along

and was never truly meant for the surface.

 

A glint of orange haze on the horizon

the glint of hope

a spark of shore

to reassure

to make the shipwreck mean something

to tell the story of dead Sailors

and Pirates who stole without truly wanting

just to steal

and steal they did

digging and digging

a hole so hollow

so void of that which makes the flowers grow.

 

Thin paper prodding along the edge between

air and ocean

and the space where fate decides

up or down

do I breathe or do I drown?

 

I am not a god

I should not be able to walk these wild waves

and yet I continue

and the creatures continue to watch

hungry

deprived

A deep wanting,

waiting

deep inside.

 

Storm clouds gather and swallow the orange horizon

Night steals the lighthouse away

the storm in my eye gathers

the swell of thunder in the distance is borrowed by a stare.

Clowns

#poetry, Uncategorized

I stand in a clown store

and ask the question that needed to be asked.

Are we still used at children’s parties?

 

I suppose it doesn’t matter.

My face is still painted-

bright red hue against cracked lips.

They have touched the tip of the cold for too long

without ever truly freezing.

 

Perhaps if I was there,

I would not be here

in a store of hidden figures

waiting to crawl into silly striped overalls.

 

It will close down soon,

customers scarce.

No longer a clown store,

and then where will I go to paint my face?