Formerly Badass Horrible Poetry

This isn't just a poetry blog. Let's be honest, a lot of what I post is poetry but there are more often than not also postings about short stories. I do try to keep this blog separate from my others and post strictly creative work here. Some of it will be better than others, and much of it is in first or second draft stage when posted. These are raw works, and there will be spelling and grammar troubles at times because I use this blog to gauge what works and what doesn't. I use it as a place to get feedback. That's the reason it is "horrible". Because it's not finished-- And why should it be? We all want feedback but most of us are too afraid to put ourselves out there.

Welcome to my word.

Sunday, January 26, 2014

A Sun Misted Bedside Bedlam

A love letter lay
on a dusty window sill
half torn and crumpled
its aged and fraying edges
crusting like a tinny bell
resounding in the still air
trapped in dark, oaken walls.

The moth loved and mildewed
tapestry of a down stuffed comforter
holds the last impression
of a twenty four summer sweetheart
in the moment she read before the fall.

Rivulets, spatter, and flecks 
of russet autumn sky stain
the blanket, filtered through
age, disuse and dust,
where some six hours
Euphoric and broken she lay.

A mist of sun
Garish and brassy pauses
 on the swath of contorted sheets
and for a
only a moment

A silhouette's shadow waits
toes curled under her crouched form.
Her hair, body and soul
replay in black and white
as she waits in shattered chains
for his return

The color from the sun cannot
turn her cheek from grey.
Hidden, forgotten by all but one unremembered,
an official, type checked black and white letter
creeps,  a weed from gravel,
between two whethered boards of greying pine.

When the wood dries more,
when the spring rains stop,
it will be vacuumed
into the abyss between the top and
the bottom
Where all souls devide
and only the folded tricorner
flag, stuffed between the mattress and
its frame will possess the answer

© 2014 Lex Vex

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