This Old House
in need of attention
these aged timbers lean
worn and stressed
a weathered exterior stained
standing on unstable ground,
long exposed to unkind elements and words
until your touch,
as smooth as simple silk
bares the framework and exposes an interior
broken but salvageable
and lovingly rebuilt
restored with such surety
leaving no trace of ever being condemned.
these aged timbers lean
worn and stressed
a weathered exterior stained
standing on unstable ground,
long exposed to unkind elements and words
until your touch,
as smooth as simple silk
bares the framework and exposes an interior
broken but salvageable
and lovingly rebuilt
restored with such surety
leaving no trace of ever being condemned.
On Blue Paper
wrens
drawn to bare branches,
dark and inky silhouettes
against the new morning sky.
the branches fork and fissure
in a thousand directions
like a sketchy rural roadmap
on blue paper.
and between circumstance, truth
and the great divide,
we wait to fly
to a different drift of senses,
bare feet at an easy pace,
warm sand and the glass ocean.
drawn to bare branches,
dark and inky silhouettes
against the new morning sky.
the branches fork and fissure
in a thousand directions
like a sketchy rural roadmap
on blue paper.
and between circumstance, truth
and the great divide,
we wait to fly
to a different drift of senses,
bare feet at an easy pace,
warm sand and the glass ocean.
© Paul de Denus 2011
Paul de Denus is a graphic artist by day, writer by night. He has been published at Six Sentences (The Love Book, Word of Mouth, and 6S Vol 3), Smith Magazine, Fictionaut, and Espresso Stories.
Other writings and self published books appear at his blogspot: metheothertwin.blogspot.com
Other writings and self published books appear at his blogspot: metheothertwin.blogspot.com
Especially enjoyed the "like a sketchy rural roadmap
ReplyDeleteon blue paper" Paul - original and vivid.
Wow, Paul, both poems are lovely and I related to them easily. You did some nice things with sound repetition in This Old House, which I have trouble doing (alliteration? is that the term?)
ReplyDeleteThis line sums up how I so often feel:
"we wait to fly
to a different drift of senses,
bare feet at an easy pace,
warm sand and the glass ocean."
Lovely, Paul. You have a poetic side that should not be hidden.
ReplyDelete