rising out of the flame
we march toward the sky
riding on the waves on reign
we lunge forward with a cry
it’s a good day to be alive,
don’t you dare say goodbye
12.15.2020
Author: Ralph
life. coffee. stories.
Many
one amongst many,
but neighbor sowed envy,
tempted to keep the parry,
yet fairytale is all but empty
humble stroll may be healthy
yet crumbled breads may be wary
but merry be the steady
ready for the sunrise gently
12.14.2020
Chutney
isn’t it lovely
how it’s comfy
under this sunny
weather with chutney
covered in honey
splendor in tummy
12.13.2020
Battleground
you’ve fought long and hard,
foes at every corner of this orchard
lost are friends, either tossed or crossed
no matter the cost, you must not get lost.
May silence be your alliance
your conscience; your guidance,
a defiance against insolence,
vigilance to your disciplines.
12.12.2020
Heart
with my two arms stretching to each side,
I hugged myself and held my breath
leaning against the back of a wooden chair
In a calm silence, the heart beat
as if to remind it’s not over yet
as if to refuse to become a part of the chair.
12.11.2020
Take 5
baby,
slow down a bit, little
move you make, simple
joy we find right here
don’t let ‘em fizzle
baby,
you know all is alright, gonna
make this go alight, wanna
treat you right tonight, gotta
bring this to new height.
12.10.2020
Supernova
glowing from the center of umbra,
slowly dancing in algebraic formula,
supernova has been born in orchestra.
retina of nebula, the gondola of tundra,
rotunda of medulla, beluga of Africa,
it dances with Sinatra, maxima stamina
says aloha to nirvana, Kafkaesque opera
from Okinawa to Botswana
12.9.2020
Memo
Cold concrete floor pressing against the flesh
reminds me the truth that light in the breath
still glows as the darkness remains stretched
dreams and memories amalgamate in shadow
leaving a question: ‘what’s the memo for tomorrow?’
a drop of achromatic black coffee, a piece of shredded dead skin, and a glint in the eye akin.
12.8.2020
Cards
how can I say this;
I played the cards with
the one and only
true image of me.
after the explosion,
after the marathon,
the two eyes that stared back
were of a foreign but familiar stag
glowing in darkness perhaps
knowing what must happen.
12.7.2020
Drum
onslaught of fear in thin air
merciless march of clock needle
felt heavily on wrinkles of skin
yet the rising yolk of the sun
blossoming beyond the curve of the earth
drums the blood through the veins
rise, rise again
rise, rise again
12.6.2020
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