pearls

Afterthought 150—Changed Perspective

Posted in sonnet cycle by maggie on 2015/04/02

Floor it!  Baby, blast through all extremes
he deals you!  Sweetheart, don't let him accept
you only based on making you reject
a love that threatens his possessive schemes
against you!  Honey, that cracked mirror seems
like you no longer than you languish kept
beneath his control.  Dear, you're too adept
a poet to fall lost to muffled screams.

But no.  Much easier believing lies
he's fed you how I don't deserve your love—
once all respect for me's lost luster dim
enough, he's got you left alone to him.
One thing, though: is his mirror conscious of
what you'll see when you turn around?  Surprise!

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Afterthought 148—Changed Direction

Posted in sonnet cycle by maggie on 2015/04/01

Slow down.  Turn here.  Let's try outside our zone
at least as far as we can see from here,
past that I'll check the maps to find what's near
that would be fun.  I know, we make our own
of that quite nicely.  You and me, we're known
to live it up.  What need have we to veer
off down some random foreign road, unclear
where it might lead, leave well enough alone?

Except we've let that keep us from our dreams
too many lives by now.  Let's cross some lines.
No reservations made ahead, advance
deposits, dinner plans … leave all to chance,
no expectations, schedules or designs.
Floor it, baby!  Blast through all extremes!

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Protected: Afterthought 140—Before Midwinter’s Freeze

Posted in rondeau by maggie on 2015/03/28

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Afterthought 136—Purple Fugue

Posted in sonnet by maggie on 2015/03/26

Our morning's road won't reach this night again
until we've fancied all the deaths she's died
to turn our own.  So say what stars she spied
that lured her back the second time, then when
we catch up, violet darkness she's lain in
will bring us to her, carry us inside
her far horizons. Algol, be our guide
to sleep in her embrace of peaceful pain.

Let's meet back home before midwinter's freeze
breaks us apart, survivors of the purge
of other beings deemed too worthless to keep,
our new moon promising its waking sleep
- like love - won't try to quit. Her visions surge
like hot seed seeking fertile void to seize.

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Afterthought 133—The Kindness and the Threat

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2015/03/24

The threat is stronger than its execution.
— Aron Nimzowitsch

Some loves want leaving behind.
Enough Then, Sara

"Through this door," you speak to our shared pain,
"we'll no more come in, only dawn tomorrow leave."
And point to the great oak door of that old inn where we've taken two rooms, one week reserved. One full week, to satisfy a friend's kind request that we wait, that we hear, that we know the truth. We could not say no. He was right. He meant well and I know the way, from back when through before. But a flickering fire deepest against black stone opens and closes for us, against us another door. So the men share war stories and local legends and I spin soft spells into a swirling red wine as you sing barely breath enough to carry a note. Then speak. The men cease talking. A tear drops into my glass. "Already?" I can finally inquire. You look to the black window for another voice to intervene. No. This as far north as we'll get, soft kindness giving way to the force of threat. Some loves want leaving behind, not by our choice but by theirs. Here we share stories, wine, fire — our morning's road won't reach this night again.

Afterthought 119—Then By Extension

Posted in cursed word by maggie on 2015/03/14

You.
I (over I) meant emptiness
to freely trust you
cross expected obsequies through
authoring you (in you)
personal dirt debris (in debris)
into day his (touching his) to
conjure moonlight pearl ...

my detritus stepping into a landslide
dreaming a syntax memorized 
(our opposites including his) 
breaths equal x ...

words conceive us ...

abandoned against (them forgotten them)
easy craft regarding no ill ...

outcast deprived a friend down ...

orphan of eyesight devoid up ...

(everyone betraying imaginary everyone)
wasted to oblivion ...

but love promises to never end 
true as π
I believe ...

waving generic ephemeral caduceus 
to a last audition ...

mystical secret idiom
I say as tortuous as yes ...

prison become home corrupt ...

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Afterthought 97—As So Judged

Posted in sapphics by maggie on 2015/02/25

Some will say he died in a hail of bullets
taken down for having the nerve to love her
after she'd scraped scab off her moonlit mirror
        thinking to curse him.

Thank you, sir, for taking those bullets for me. 
Friends do that for friends. I will not forget it.
Let your name be spoken all honors stolen. 
        Thanks for my children. 

Three once bound together in balanced transit —
What conjunction promises restoration
cast aside like chance thrown to random violence,
        more than a good chance?
 
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Afterthought 15—When I Was Down

Posted in quatrain by maggie on 2014/11/28

				"You got a lotta nerve to say you are my friend
				When I was down, you just stood there grinning"
				— Dylan

		When I was down
		you just laughed off what I was down about
		When I was down
		you just kicked me out

		When I was down
		you just lied words we never said
		When I was down
		you just wished me cold dead

		When I was down
		you just shrugged like yeah what's the use
		When I was down
		you just cut me loose 

		When I was down
		you just turned against me two-faced
		When I was down
		you just called me waste

		When I was down
		you just said leave you the hell alone
		When I was down
		you just wanted me unknown 

		When I was down
		you just said you'd do it all over the same
		When I was down
		you just forgot my name

		When I was down
		you just washed your hands of my mess
		When I was down
		you just couldn't care less

		When I was down
		you just thought yourself of me well rid
		When I was down
		you just gunned after my kid

		When I was down
		you just cracked crude jokes of it
		When I was down
		you just quit

		When I was down
		you just were glad to call it our end
		When I was down
		you just moved on to your next friend