“Scissor’s Teeth” was written for a contest prompted off of a quote by Gabriel García Márquez. The quote spoke to the moment being the “last time” for all the actions desired with another. I decided to explore this topic through the three Moirai, also known as the Fates.
Scissor’s Teeth
This was the last time on this side of the veil wove by Cotho’s hand our threads will be undone
together was the gift of time measured by eternal rod Lachesis has her say to what’s allotted before the end
we knew that Moirai as her due and hoped she would turn aside two threads that wrapped as one now undone in the slayer’s shade
the last Fate has cleaved a string one or both, it matters not what Atropos says is the end at the tips of scissor’s teeth.
I have a dance friend who I really admire for their expression unto the world. The sum result is outwardly androgynous, especially when reference to their preferred companions. The poem “Living True” is about a witnessed encounter between my friend and a young boy. My heart went out to my friend, and I do truly hope that the young one learned something from the event.
Living True
I saw a time of friend’s unease when living true was put to test revelation asked brought a blush as lovely life defied the norm.
“Are you a girl or are you a boy?” from the mouth of babes this issued forth follow-up was as pure “I’ve not met you before.”
Hetronormative is this youth’s curse the crux of boxes into which body’s expression may be fit or identification of preferences.
At least they asked with innocence the same question from adult’s mouth would heap derision upon their mark stating known with scorn’s intent.
Yet still I felt for my friend they are much braver than I could be with the outside as the proof of the sterling felt within.
I hope the children will embrace the differences seen by their eyes I pray my friend will never stop being honest within their skin.
A contest asked for poems about the color red. The resulting poem, “Red Consort”, has a Gothic feel, equating crimson with the passed love.
Red Consort
I dream in color, I dream in red with shades of gray, black and white red and grays, this is my view rainbow’s spread departs my world.
My shirts are white, my suits are black my world is gray, and you were red you were life, spilled across the floor so much color, the one I adored.
Rose so red, dress so crimson hair so scarlet, blood so thick Please do not fade, do not vanish remain my color, in my bipolar.
I dreamt of you, my red consort my trance of color, darkness embraced red rose remaining, against coffin pillow soon this will wilt, with dreams remaining.
contemplative