Lullabies and Fire Flies
Slurred words, muttering, still.
Pursuance. A letter’s cornered ear.
A flattened fear still sticking, with Rabbit skin glue.
Ink blurred; open and black. Pages beat… back.
The Ocean’s skin.
Pages still swelling, roughly, straddling; wet
With tears. True rain hears.
Wet with the feeling of real rain raining;
rung with reels of skinned stories, a lathed cat.
A manic hanging, of her ghostly tongue, a cat skinned.
Words enshrined, a convalescent bee.
Flat, slight fit, land, living trap, eye capped. Cloths drying pinned.
On this thin-skinned page, pacing sunshine.
A forever fire Fly. Or a corrugated field. An accident of the pen;
Detected by time, a shutter-feed design.
Appeasing, hung out to dry.
A blasphemy, to love undetected. Lured.
A camera celluliar insight, tear-ducked,
to far to cry.
An unopened hatching, beautiful list, yet touched.
dry. bundles wrapped,
Defected, but sweetly caught,
a watershed; Attached.
Of nerves. Trapped.
Honed in. Honey sucked. Sacked.
Foundering, sinking meaning, a paper meal.
Lures deflected, sold for Lye, stitches, weighted and scaled.
Yellow and twirled, wounded and aubergine lute, a paper light proverb.
A wadded washington, eagle ironed; handed appeal.
For a dime-store lulling, no reverb.
Shelved salt-taffy tails.
Death is walking, where fireflies are talking.
Where hearts meet, a unwundered street, love is there, in dimming light,
Unspoken history, blue-colored, perfect fifth key word. Stalking.
A voice from a outsider’s. To lay against write.
Paper weight, A. Changed.
The original title.
- “It’s the rain I can’t catch” – Poem by Heather Whitley Gibson (tigergroves.wordpress.com)
- Ronnie and Heather Whitley Gibson Now Featured On (Last.FM Radio) (tigergroves.wordpress.com)
- “BLUEJAY” – Poem by Heather Whitley Gibson (tigergroves.wordpress.com)