Oblivious to Obvious

Porcelain china doll skin
shows bright under stark yellow
fly bloated light.

I reach to take your hand
unaware your fingers have broken off in mine.

A silent victim becomes ash,
the twinkle in your eye once so green
now a melting pool of candle wax.

Under the onslaught of flame
your delicate lace bra strap
has fallen on your exposed shoulder.

Moving to fix it I fail to notice
the charred sackcloth once sundress.

Oblivious to smoke I see fresh mountain air;
a bountiful spread of vivacious hair
so eager to have fingers run through it,
now fallen away to soot.

An unnoticed television plays in the corner,
a sad box encasing flame.

What was once so good
shall always be now.

The glorious rays of paradise
bask me up and down,
reclining in the crematorium’s coffin.

© 2013 p.hill

Of Captains and Mobster Poets

Such should be a
class that could be
as a lab where
we might get up

to such business…
Nefarious.

Such should be a class
where the captain forced us to dark uncharted
waters. The soul shown as dark mirror that gives
deep seeded introspection; gives me vision.

Allows me to see that which I should not see,
mourning the loss of my child like romance.

Bound to rules that
when are learned well
are so easily cast off, now.
Shunned!
Banned from the pages that we dictate

as being the rod and rule. For now we have
come to the end when it has all been laid
onto pages milk white and lined dead blue.
The pen has now become the pun, a tool,

you see… Giv’n life by hands no longer trembling.
The word is now the picture, a frame of mind…

I will make no apologies for that which is
said, and what must be put to the paper.
The thoughts that have rattled around are so
near to escape, a sweet release. Far too

long have they been constrained; forced to live in…
inside the depths of my dimension. Now
soon, free to float without form or shape
that was given them by a sinister headmaster.

Words take wing; FLY! Give us your heavy downdraft
to buffet our brains with phrases unclear and meanings unknown…
Standing on our desks we cry loud, “O Captain!
My Captain!” A last honor as we slow march

out these frosted and stained wooden doors.
Oh Captain, My Captain…
     …what a lesson we have been given.

© 2013 p.hill

Once Upon a Time when I was Haunted

There once was a time, not so long ago
When I was haunted by the spirit of a pretty little thing
She used to creep into my mind
When I wasn’t looking
She would steal visions from my eyes
Replacing them with the memories of days long gone;
Times long dead

But then once upon a time when I was haunted
This pretty little thing
She left me one day
I watched her walk out of the door,
Out of my life
In that instant I hated her the most
Because she had taken all those little memories
That I used to hold so dear

Once upon a time when I was haunted
I was filled with the rage and sadness
From innumerable terrible events
From the time that I can remember being able to remember
I attended the funerals for the things that I held most dear
Slowly letting the dirt of life slip through my fingers
Gently cascading down to soft little piles spilling over
The sides of those golden coffins

Once upon a time when I was haunted
I watched this pretty little thing
Keep me company in the darkest hours of my days
Keep my sanity to a level that was unreachable on my own
This little ghost of a thing kept me intravenously fed
Bleeding herself off, so that I could be nourished
And when she was bled completely dry
This little ghost that used to haunt me
She walked away, into the dark of the cold night

Once upon a time I was haunted
And while I hated that the torment was of my own creation
Sometimes I miss the fact that a little spirit would come visit me
Sometimes I miss the fact that there was a little spirit at all
Sometimes I miss being haunted…

© 2013 p.hill

Letters and Paper Promises Raining from the Sky

My child little child where do you go
When your feet now touch winter’s new snow?

My child little child what do you see
When you wander so very far from me?

My child little child what clues do you leave
When you wander away and your parents now grieve?

My child little child what sights does the world show
When you are off to the places you will go?

My child little child are you scared now
When you realize you are on your own now?

My child oh my little child know this above all
I will always love you most of all…

© 2013 p.hill