I. The escalator pulls me above ground, a maudlin monotony of movement that cycles tens hundreds thousands of times a day. I wait for the moment the ridges of the moving stairwell will halt the tips of my boots so I can fall on my face. What would it be like to have strangers walk […]
via “Escalate” by Caroline Sipio — THE CITY KEY
Lonely men interrupt the dark with the snap of shoes on sidewalk. Skyscrapers just got taller, more empty. Traffic thins like blood on heparin. Solemn as a monks’ processional is the way home. But with frog-sac croaks in lieu of chanting. John Grey is an Australian poet and US resident. Recently published in New Plains […]
via “After the Bars Close” by John Grey — THE CITY KEY
Yes, death does come for all
for every summer,
there must be a fall
but we always leave
a part of us in the world
and the part of the world
which was loved
in the immortal heart.
She welcomed the end
of summer’s oppression,
the pressure under, over, everywhere
having cooked her from within.
In summer, the sun weighed
down, disheartening from dreams,
while the wandering, distracted mind
meandered, wished to be someplace else,
wished to be free, somewhere else
where she was listened to, was esteemed,
someplace else where she never had to fear
being suspect for being something
less than ideal. That place she wanted to welcome
on hot skin like a perfectly cool breeze.
We stood in front of an encompassing pool,
blue and beautiful.
The path to the water’s center,
a platform for our confessions and truths
while liquid remained, bubbles cascading.
At once, we jumped in, forgetting
everything, becoming what we used to be
before the sorrow seeped through.
When you think it can’t,
that it won’t come
with nothing in sight,
just night in front of you,
it do, it do come through,
the smallest strand
of light in darkness
just barely enough
to see you through.
I look up crookedly, just a bum on the street
but I can still see the things you don’t think
I can see – the steps you take, the role you play
the stride with which you walk
makes its way deep into the recesses of my heart,
out through every tear, every drop
the liquid filled with lore and longing
and as long as I have eyes, which can offer
love at first sight, the greatest gift
a human soul can give, even when crouched
down on the ground, staring without a sound,
I give you the only thing I have to give – LOVE.