The Pencil
Remembered
the suitcases are
packed cake hiding in your pocket the fool is ready
to begin his
journey
the first step is
the hardest memories folded between tissue you stand swaying
unsure you wrap
your skirts around your legs clutch the envelope
finger the sharp
scissors you carry all that you will need suddenly you are hot
like
fever
you imagine germs
attacking you left over from a dream you have forgotten
your pencil
no words no
sketches no memories at all
February 6, 2016
________________________________________________________________________
The Broken Spell
the bridge to the
unknown a spell is cast you lie your head down on your bed
thinking you will
rest only for a little while you never know what is following
what is
right what is wrong a tight skirt above the knees
the line is
drawn a rose is offered you have a flair for a tale
you stumble into the
pub ask for a drink the sign reads we don't serve unicorns
the coins fall from
your hand spare change the bridge is crossed
you are awaken by
the sound of the breaking of the day the spell is broken
February 6, 2016
5 comments:
I love "the fool is ready to begin his journey". I can feel the heat building, and then the discovery one has forgotten one's pencil - no way to capture the memories.
In the second, I love the dream mood of this poem, very eerie, love the "we dont serve unicorns"!!!!! And then the bridge is crossed. Both of these felt to me, while I read them, like I, too, was within a dream. Very cool write, my friend.
Loved "Broken Spell". Magical.
Greetings from London.
Indeed, on any journey it is the first step that is the hardest! Thinking about that forgotten pencil......
There really is something to look forward to in the birth of a new day!
We don't serve unicorns - not what sort of a pub or a dream is that..the loss of a pencil is a terrible thing..we send you many to tuck in your skirt pockets xo
I have a ton of pencils and pens. Say it and I'll send some...love both of these,
Elizabeth
PS Your addie at the Whirligig isn't working
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