Moonsong
by G.K.

When awake and alone in a bed drenched in her blue light,
The Moon seems to shine for the lonely people,
Illuminating the empty crumpled sheets beside them,
Holding the forgetful hands that instinctively reach across,
Still expecting to find warmth and a pulse.
But the Moon is more alive than we think, she rises and falls and changes,
Slowly tilting her mysterious paleface away from us day by day
Until there is nothing but black above us and for a brief night, 
We experience the darkness that exists in her absence.

The Moon is more alive than we think;
She shares a cycle with every woman, taking 28 days to go from 
Dark to dark again, waxing and waning into familiar shapes
Of toenails and crescents and pizza pies;
She brings romance to the lovers,
Who dance and laugh beneath her in each other’s arms,
Outlines of hands and cheeks and lips are made softer by her glow,
Encouraging them to sing louder and hug tighter and kiss harder;
She brings peace to the baby’s slumber,
Provides a light for night swimming and campfires,
She is a friend to wolves and the lonesome dreamers.

When standing at the edge of vast ocean or lying in the middle of an open field,
Letting the Moon’s waves lickyour toes or her light soak your skin,
Unable to think of anything other than how tiny you are, 
Be like the her,
Rising and falling,
Waning and waxing,     
In complete silence,
And for no reason.

Among The Roses

Among the roses an old woman lay
Reclined in her chair, weathered and frail
Her wispy, thin fingers trembling lightly
As she reached past her armrest to stroke a lone bud [Read more…]

The End of Joesph K.

The darkness shone the room of wood,
And in the spotlight, Joesph. K stood.
“Joesph K.” The Judge will say
“You are found guity of your crime.”
“But your honor” said K.
“It is not my door that you should knock.
“Take Leni, My Uncle, or even Block.”

“Block is too attractive.” The judge said in reply.
“But I like your effort, good try.”
“Your sentence is,” K listened with adrenaline.
“Fair and just, Death by penguin.”

They flew him past. Across the sea.
Before K. Could file his plea.
K could not believe his luck.
While in Antarctica, his feet were stuck.
And then he saw the black and white,
And knew this would be his last sight.

The penguins attacked, with deadly rage,
Some even flew, despite their age.
They slashed with their long penguin claws
And kicked with their sleek penguin paws.

And there K. Stood, dying in the snow,
Paying for a crime he didn’t know.

Joseph K. Poem by A.J.