Tag Archives: skeletons
voluptuosity
Voluptuosity;
a blond
molded
to fantasy proportions;
a collar and a chain
from her neck
to a hand of bone;
a skeleton
with yellow tennis shoes
and blank hollow holes
where I should be.
by matt at shadow of iris
voluptuosity
chiming in
The four armless and legless mannequins had been left in storage for a long time now in the garage owned by a strange and reclusive artist.
During the day they were mostly silent but at night they would whisper to a skeleton who had been hung in the corner, boasting, that if nothing else at least they still had their good looks.
On most nights, the skeleton would simply ignore them.
by matt at shadow of iris
chiming in
religious debris and spiritual paraphernalia
i
An erector set
spilled out
into a jumble
amid religious debris
virgins
minotaurs and nymphs
church steeples
a lover holding a rose
and faces
that peer out at you
asking questions
for which you have
no answers.
ii
Soldiers weary
rest on a kingdom of tin
a landscape made
of tiny metal pieces
and spiritual paraphernalia
congested and mixed
skeletons with machine guns
small angels lost in a crowd
horned beasts around which fly
little ufos.
iii
Eyes for the asking
a skull
to worship you
gods with the horns of rams
masked guards
homes turned upside down
and inside out
a revolution that brews
and percolates
far beneath the surface
an explosion
now
near
inevitable.
– matt at shadow of iris
religious debris and spiritual paraphernalia
skeletons vi
Skeletons
like scandals;
they love to watch them
on the TV,
or listen to them
on the radio;
they want to hear
of blemishes on the skin,
sclerosis,
or even tiny tales
of ringworm.
– matt at shadow of iris
skeletons-vi
dry bones
Ghosts
that have faces
but no eyes
whisper secrets
you thought no one knew.
Nostalgia
tinged with melancholy
about a time that was
but now will never be.
Heavy hearts that sag
and feel the weight
of actions taken
then regretted;
the past, a frozen thing
unalterable.
Places in the heart
lost and waiting,
take my hand
and lead it towards the light;
a truth outside the truth
always lost.
Dry bones
out in the desert
still searching
for that water.
I don’t know
who you are
so I try to face you
unflinchingly
and to make you feel
not ashamed.
Dry bones
out in the desert
still searching
for some love.
– matt at shadow of iris
dry bones
skeletons v
skeletons v
Skeletons
could care less
if they drop jars of jelly
onto supermarket floors
after all
what's broken glass
to a skeleton?
Continue reading
skeletons iv
I’m stopped by the police
when they step out of their patrol car
I am surprised to find out
that they are skeletons
they handcuff me and push me down
my face biting cold wet grass
then they leave me there and drive off;
skeleton cops don’t care nothing for you
if you’ve got flesh.
– matt at shadow of iris
skeletons 4
skeletons iii
A typing pool
of secretary skeletons
they type on keyboards
dry bony clicks against plastic
screech, click, click
scratch, click, click
they’re fast typists
but sometimes
their fingers slide
and they hit the wrong key.
– matt at shadow of iris
skeletons 3
animated objects
Late one night
as I wondered off alone
in a place I should not have been
I came across a skeleton
of a man long dead
but this skeleton moved
even danced
in a small spiked bird cage
that once long ago
must have been his prison
but was now his home.
– matt at shadow of iris
animated objects
the tree and the skull
They rushed to her
and they tried and stop her
but of course
it was too late
she had already started
her transformation;
it had started with her hands
each finger growing thinner
and more brittle
then spreading out into a net
of tiny tendrils, leafless branches;
we watched as her toes lengthened
and spread out
dipping into the earth
looking for moisture and nourishment
that was hard to find
in the broken and dry land;
underneath her large flowing dress
there had been
such a rumbling of movement
that it had been as if
small beings were right down there
between her legs, dancing
but it was only the lower half of her body
gradually changing into two solid trunks
then spreading out
into a pattern of tangled branches;
her dress
which still yet, hugged her waste so well
was now surly just wood beneath
soft silk over coarse bark
and for a reason none could understand
only her head remained
human and unchanged
and it leaned lifelessly to one side
her eyes having gone white
and her lips blue
as the last bit of her life
seeped out of her
and she became more and more
a spreading tree.
Her lover had come out
and he had watched her transformation
putting his hand on his chest
and leaning over in anguish;
he put the blame
entirely on himself
and as his jaw moved
the wind whispered
if only I’d had flesh
then you’d have never left me
yet still I’ll claim you
even if this
is all we’ll ever have;
he removed his skeletal head
and placed it down
at the base of the new tree
and after he was finished
the rest of his bones
slowly began to blow away
dust in the wind
and yet his skull remains
to this very day
at the base of that tree
and no one will dare move it.
– matt at shadow of iris
[This poem was inspired by the work of Daniel Martin Diaz]
