Disentangled, they stumble up, and again with eager feet, though less active, the course resume.
– Richard Kelsey

Broadly speaking, I’ve stumbled up
over hidden secrets,
shadow cants,
illicit codes,
cryptic ciphers;
I’m some place west of dreams
where it all stops
     churning
inside my head
until I’m left
with a fragment of a sliver
of a moment,
just enough time
to finally think of you
and the smile on your face
as you looked up to greet the rain
laughing
even as it thundered.

by matt at shadow of iris

Links are Love, follow them home:

~Raindrop Falls~
The fall is not the end
Its actually the beginning
Raindrops fall for a reason

Vanishing Time
time spent on tangled tangent threads
chords lost by lovers under stardusty beds.

Violet Serenade
fourteen steps across and back
while shadows hold their séance

Spur
… the night,
the nubile nurturer of naught

i  greet  the  morning
we dance in circles
keeping in step with the breeze

Wind Song
The hushed rummaging of leaf
and letter. You brush against belief.

Day 26
… Your tangle
Of red hair on the pillow
Reflects tiny lights

Chartreuse Glow
A chartreuse glow in a disused store,
crystalline shards of torchlight
caught on dust motes make …

Swamp Magic
face-down, infant knees
bent to kick, still swimming

pas de courage
taken to the extreme
it’s a long road to death

The Dying Season (for Milo)
the browning days
the dug-in sun.
The dying season.

Violet Ward
At night, she smoked herself empty.
There are degrees of empty,
and sometimes empty just purely hates to be alone.

Perverse Cowgirl
and the enrapturing
of the erotic. They are evil
when you need them to be
and crushingly familiar

nocturne
Shiver of wind across the dark pool.
Willows blur beyond a haze of nymphs.

Bt K
poison in our cornflakes, society become
one long silent scream, no tears to streak the
face.

Autumn Prelude
drops coldly dripping
mingling small sorrows with dust

Been fighting my own projections
Been fighting my own projections
A jungle of absorbed conformed notions
Unreachable dreams of a suffering social structure

Stumble up quotes:

A stumble: up he looks, and lo, the moon
Calm, clear, convincingly herself once more!
– Robert Browning

They stumble up haphazard against giants, ladies, knights, dwarfs, dragons, abstractions, princes and sages.
– Christabel R. Coleridge

What does he now, that lets thee grope and stumble up and down?
– Aristophanes

Now let us stumble up the dark steps …
– Thomas Tindall Wildridge

If you enjoyed this poem, you might also enjoy Poetry is Dead.

rubble zone, a poem
Bawdy bombs fell from the sky
in great blue bursts of obscene booms,
and when the men had had their flashy fun
the rubble kings told their rubble women
to go out and gather it all up,
all the shattered bits and pieces;
so as they could make rubble jewelry
with which they then could
in great gay spectacle
celebrate
all that had been bestowed upon them.

But late at night, secret rubble ninja,
and licentious libertines, who’d left it all behind,
went out among the muck, and
they gathered it all up and stashed it in
immaculate rubble pits deep under the earth –
from whence they went with pinprick weapons readied
to seek out all those rubble rousers
who’d made those bawdy bombs;
and then under point of sword,
they made them write little pithy trashy poems
all about destruction and debris,
rubble literature for rubble masses,
scrap lyrics and rhythms of dross,
complete with questions of swill
and ponderous conundrums of debris;
of course, none of it was ever read,
instead it was all only
thrown away.

by matt at shadow of iris

Links are Love, follow them home …

bombs
bombs
let’s drop them

As Once It Stood
An old building flattened to rubble
dreams of its disconnected bones.

Out Of the Blue
I knit a cloud of scarf long as the horizon
and wrap it warm
round the rubble of my mind

the you and the I
oceans that slap
the land’s edges back into shape

Who You Are
We trade places again – you to be
anima while I’ll disguise a Jungian
idea as my outer self …

Pardon
See berries red as blood among the thorns
the remnants of a summer long since bled

street drink
they discovered the joy of powerless cinnamon.

a poem I wrote
Beyond roads’ withering come the dim trails
of vagrant, leaning grasses. Odd shadows delve
under trees toward lost rivers’ moss-hued reveries.

Annabelle
I found the magic you were missing!
It crossed my desk
as an afterthought I grasped
like a kite tail.

Flowers~
I wish they grew out of my spinal chord,
running trough my nervous system.
Yellow chrysanthemums
sprouting on my back …

A Poem for April
Gnats swarm up
in puffs of living smoke
and spiders make their way
on sticky lifelines.

Recovery ~ #poetry by @Tashtoo
Because once you got deep enough, the pain can finally reach you,
and the part of you that feels it…can be the sick and twisted hope that keeps you going.

Thursdays In Heaven
When I got to the Pearly Gates
(My reward I earned as a man)
They gave me a pack of Camels,
And smoked oysters in a can.

“Trümmerfrau (literally translated as ruins woman or rubble woman) is the German-language name for women who, in the aftermath of World War II, helped clear and reconstruct the bombed cities of Germany and Austria.” – Wikipedia, 04/26/2013

“Trümmerliteratur (“rubble literature“), also called Kahlschlagliteratur (“clear-cutting literature”), is a literary movement that began shortly after World War II in Germany and lasted until about 1950. It is primarily concerned with the fate of former soldiers and POWs who could return to Germany, who must stand both before the rubble of their homeland and their possessions as well as before the rubble of their ideals and deal with it.” – Wikipedia, 04/26/2013

If you enjoyed Rubble Zone, you might also enjoy Ghosts Whisper Secrets.