he carried his weight, dana queen (d.l. quesinberry)

~he carried his weight~

-|-

the poet - man of parables

cell block rested

performed spoken words

truth – peace - unuttered by carrion

referred to sons / daughters

of god in a heaven

-|-

friday morning, sky murky,

tinge of grey, potential rain.

rousting giants – jarred him

the poet - he stood.

a not so well respite

left him weary, aching.

-|-

sleepy man eyes with

no opportunity to

brush teeth, comb hair.

through a doorway shoved

awareness | acceptance

torture she is the brutality of love.

-|-

crossing dry ground sandy footed.

Prodded and demeaned.

leather strained flesh struck

bones that lay barely hidden

passerby euphemisms spat as

the poet spoke of laments,

-|-

incongruence, internal messages

truths - reflections

shone from rivers, ponds, or

shiny objects compiled riches

realizations – knowledge - undesirables

drugged with destiny

-|-

carried his weight

over tormented body

through village paths

hills and plateaus - aiding

that burial called death

pierced and watching

-|-

vain repetitions - impalements,

salty quenches of thirst

a poets glance - in wretched pain.

expressions of love, siblings tender,

immortals glances – he uttered

the final physical quatrain.

-|-

it is done.

(Copyright @ Donna L. Quesinberry-2008)

the venetian rowboat after 3002 songs and waterfalls, dana queen (d.l. quesinberry)

his knock her shake
hands extended

he she shake
he thinking

lift that mask from her face
she holds the mask to her face

what are eyes without masks
there's a collection of masks

she gestures he hands
her fallen words

white kitchen and black tiles
her water whistles

she in a shadow
water runs warm

he notices a waterfall in a painting
she uses big brushes with fine horsehairs

invisible paint
walls white with splatters

he places his jacket on her chair
she takes his jacket

in her mind his jacket her chair
smiles

she turns down her thermostat
a green couch and an orange shawl

red spaghetti with mushrooms green salad
her song is playing

he knows 3000 songs
her song is 3001

her channel changes
song 3002

he hums a red wood table
stains if he asked a question

he would ask where the stains are from
the game board speaks

a child tares his arm
another woman’s child

his arm the child
her child someone else’s
their child a child

wine chips juice
a mystery her rope the maid

he she the child
he she sigh a child sings

old new air cologne
fresh bread

red, black, blonde
hair his head

smoke specters mist
hidden bifocals hands wave

she wipes eyes
yawns with hair that swings

a man looks toward the house
an easter bunny hops in her square village

moist grass under morning glories
baptismal font

he she enter crosses
she a shadow he running water

a priest
a baby

steam and shadows
he she smile

her red dress
his stains

he she talk
whispers in violet blooms

their baby kicks
she stretches out

he turns and their
light enters shadows

(copyright . donna l. quesinberry-2008)