| Reflection in fragments I Black footsteps outlined in moon-glow snow Are the only signposts Leading my trudge-weary traveller's feet Through a world of black and white. II "Stop following me!" The stone faced boy yells, "I don't know where I'm going, And I sure as hell Don't want you to follow me there." But the toy house is confining, And if they end up in the same room, It is only inevitable not planned. III A tear falls across the face of time Counting the hours Salty sweet. IV A jigsaw puzzle is almost complete Except for one blue-green, middle-of-the-sea piece. The two innies, one outey piece hid For weeks under the sofa Warping its shape. Now, it must either be forced into place (and hopefully nothing will break), Or set aside, leaving a hole in the picture. V Seedy little back street bar Full of cigarette butts. Bottles clang like Poe's bells, keeping time In a sort of ruined rhythmic rhyme, While sweaty bodies dangle their wares And grasp for stability Against greasy bar stools And other pungent bodies. VI Alcohol is drinking indecision. VII A young man caught up In a grunge-art-culture phase Sits contemplating endlessly A new, bright colored, Roger Rabbit tattoo, Which his peers love and family hates. He can't decide how to explain this new Feature to his grandchildren of the future. Smart-boy feels dumb. VIII "This is wrong, I don't love you," He said, after he had removed her outer skin And satisfied his own primal needs. She's then left alone, A muddied thinking statue, Pondering how pleasure could be wrong. IX Concrete sidewalks Lead concrete feet Connected to concrete heads In fast track ruts Avoiding collision And never changing. X Fading flesh colored flowers rest their heads On a car parked far from home With a torn out paper heart Screaming, "Guess you couldn't sleep either, Hope you two relieved a little stress. . ." XI When Venus kissed the silver, sliver moon, Flames of passion heated my pale young face, Pressed flat, hiding quiet against old brick, Fending off the sharp night air Ashamed of witnessing heavenly bodies Dancing. XII Proud woman holding golden dilution in hand Lifts her sleeve with the free hand, Giggling, As she displays a series Of self-inflicted crimson ribbons Which mere hours before Left her lying in a puddle of her elements Until an any weather friend picked her up And brought her to the bar. XIII I flew today. I aligned my breath and let go, Soaring over clouds, And in the distance a glittering diamond Lighted a multi-faceted path Over the land of cotton. XIV A figure stops mid-stride in a parking lot, A placid old face stares into driving eyes And one finger points statuesque to a sign While the car rolls cautiously past. In the store, the slow calm woman Accosts a frenzied shopper, "Why do you young people think 'Stop' doesn't apply to you?" envoy How easy it seems To chain oneself to pain, And allow pleasure to fly away.© 1997 wendi loomis "Reflection in Fragments" |