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

    Posted in poem | 4 Comments

    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

      Posted in poem | 5 Comments

      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

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        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

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          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

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            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

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              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

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                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

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                  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

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                    the tree and the skull

                    the skull and the tree

                    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]

                      Posted in Dark Love Poetry, poem | 4 Comments