Latest Posts by offeringofsky - Page 3
Source: Frank "Silvers" Oakley, photograph from 1904
Frank “Silvers” Oakley, 1904
Frank the camera caught you slightly crumpled
the makeup peeling away in places so, one could almost see you
It must have been after the game all the indians had certainly left the field
Your eyes tired no cheerful play upon the cherry paint of your mouth
When the photographer smiled and ducked under the dark cloth
Did you notice the flash powder flare smoke and POP
Or were you wishing you could just play ball.
-Skye
Source: Darren Almond Refractive Index I, 2018 aquatint 18 ¾ x 16 inches edition 25
Refractive Index
Waking in a rumple of bedclothes With you And the morning sun
The suncatcher Spins slowly on radiator updrafts
Bending light Into broken kaleidoscopes That travel across our Mingled skin.
-Skye
Source: Miles Johnson
The Lover’s Lament
At first I did not understand The roots you planted
Grew Through Me
Leaving me Pinned to The ground.
-Skye
Source: Winter tree and three crows, by Takeuchi Seiho (1890).
Haiku- In Winter Trees
Crows weigh on branches All wearing winter twilight Chattering with me.
-Skye
Source: Palimpsest by Dale Dunning
Your Face
It’s difficult (you must know) to deny things so clearly spoken without words
in silence you say everything the curve of your mouth the eyes that do not
quite meet me
and when your mouth is finally open
i can still see the truth in you typeset across your face.
Source: Dinovelvet.
The Three Graces
Long ago the handmaidens of Aphrodite
Grew tired of being virgins Of being consummate Women
And lit out for the dessert
I met them at a festival covered in wrinkles and rainbows Swilling beer Cackling at the universe
And I joined in at once Understanding there was so much more to me.
-Skye
HAIKU Anatomy and Physiology
Each adrenal cell Under my microscope’s eye Holds a universe
-Skye
Image Source: Charito
Lotus Bringer
Insistent grey eyes Come from the twilight bearing gifts Bearing flowers
I cannot look away
The lotus bringer In twilight’s silky aubergine Proffers the abyss in dewdrops On periwinkle petals
Her placid porcelain face Softened not by innocence But apathy
I am already dissolving into darkness Thinned out Unfurling
-Skye
Plague Doctor
So here in the shining city on the hill we watched the broad plain with its shifting grasses always thinking the trouble would arrive at the gate announcing itself.
But no, it crept in in ones and twos broken glass lungs etched in X-rays seeping in under the gate.
We could not fathom the wave of misery that broke us open.
The burbling cry of wet breath that choked the air filling every corner.
We wailed for answers.
The plague doctor came surveying the heaps of dead plying us with platitudes and potions crying “Let them inject bleach!”
Pushing out the dead early in the morning I saw him shambling down the hill.
Empty eyes behind his mask and blood on his hands.
-Skye
Wilhelm Kotarbiński (Polish, 1849-1921)
Crowning the Poet, 1881
Women
Soft fair Roman women weave peonies and roses
Into fragrant crowns in the mild morning
To rest upon the marble brows of venerated poets filling villa courtyards with polite chatter
Receding deep within shadowy villas only when confronted by midday sun
Keeping alters to old gods keeping secrets bearing sons bearing daughters.
Long dead fictions with soft brush marks and heavy gold frames
These are the women who turn up in the Victorian Paintings contemplated in galleries on Sunday Afternoon
-Skye
Brassaï • Notre Dame Gargoyle-Paris, 1932
Source: afrouif
Brassai and His Conversation with a Gargoyle, 1932
Tucked into Paris between the two world wars
You came to me with the bright lights twinkling on softly rising city noises
And caught me in my common pose rain worn contemplative knowing nothing and everything
Yes, the photographer cried-
I saw this immediately the flash illuminated everything and nothing of you
How can that be old roof top friend that I only think of you in the rain
When in my grainy photo you are always here
-Skye
Bioluminescence by janey-jane on DeviantArt
Source: deviantart.com
Milky Way
Hera
There is an old story of you Concerning one of the many slights Heaped upon you By that husband of yours
Cavorting with the mortals Sowing seeds in the dirt
Proudly he loved those mud children To your face
Once he even pressed one of his Bastards to your breast To feast upon you
You pulled away Your goddess milk spraying across the heavens New rivers of stars tangling in your hair
-Skye
Pysanky - Ukrainian Easter eggs - photographed in 1981.
Preparing for Easter
I wonder who thought of this to take an egg and blow its guts out
To pass the yolk and white into a bowl discards for morning scramble or cheese omelet
Then with wax and fine brushes decorate with exquisite patience an empty shell
On Loving a Poet
A poet speaks Imprecisely
Leaves room between words
Your voice so exacting in your desire terrifies her
As if you would pin her meanings to the pages
Turning wonder Into dead butterflies
You love her but cannot fathom her language
You drown in it Reaching for her
Placid on the far shore She throws pages and pages
Written for you Into the wind
-Skye
Fisherman's Catch
Hapless Mermaid who walked upon the land and grew to miss the sea with its deep dark places
Absent of air
I watched her one evening slip below the surface so beautiful so broken covered by sea
When I pulled her up out of it into my arms I realized she was only a common girl
After all
Shallow pale and choking on ocean.
-Skye
Sally Gall
Caitlin, 1996
Seaside Graveyard, Orkney Isle
Long after the flowers died I wait here overlooking the sea
This grave of mine grown over with mosses and salt air I wait here overlooking the sea
The place beside me empty and unbroken No stone no whisper of you just me overlooking the sea waiting here
Waiting for my Sailor To return to me.
Moody seaside graveyard, Orkney Isle, Scotland
April 2024
Mrs. Robinson
Mrs. Robinson
I noticed her reclining in the shadows at the back of room gazing at me
Beware they said she is older than you think
Concerned
She might quiet her gnarled desires with my flesh
I gazed at her in repose
The white flesh heavy in its powder The tinge of desperation Pooled in the corner of her eye
Curious
I wanted her anyway
-Skye
René Gruau
In Deep
One night in a bath of stars Skin slick dripping starlight
I let myself down below the water
The burn to breathe casting star shards Beyond closed eyes
Then there is just me on the edge of the universe heaving breath into the void -Skye
artwork | Ishii Nobuo
Only Words
Come with your dark ink scrawling loose letters
The loops and runs make knots that hold me fast
While you take everything leaving only notes
Slinking off to exploit the spoils
Of my ruined skin.
-Skye
Eden
Eden is down the road from here just beyond the last row house one step into the cow pasture through the hedge
No one plucks these fruit the red hidden in the messy wild branches the skin with rough brown spots
People pick apples waxed shiny smooth from well lit shelves
Mesmerized by their reflection staring out of rosy skin
I am reclined under branches colored in the sun that flows through scraggly leaves
Sour imperfect fruits tempting me into sins
Long forgotten
-Skye
Wild Apples…
‘The Fruits of the Earth’ (1911) watercolor by Edward J. Detmold Published in ‘The International Studio’ magazine vol. XLII From the Article “A Note on Mr. Edward J. Detmold’s Drawings and Etchings of Animal Life”
On the American Gun
Bullets Chambered Rolling down barrels
Mowed down At desks covered in Transformer and Hello Kitty pencils Mowed down Behind the counter of a corner store Mowed down In the living room TV a flicker Mowed down At a traffic stop bathed in blue lights
Everyone packing violence and old glory Red on White and blue
Our thoughts and prayers Raised up Respects paid in full
On the altar of the American gun
Broken dead Are everywhere Tangling on the On the wind Like flags at half mast Splashed in bright paint on grimy bricks Piled among wilted flowers and teddy bears Wet with rain
Unalienable rights Ravenous appetites Arms raised to the sky
Sacrifice Thoughts and prayers Sacrifice Thoughts and prayers Sacrifice
Bullets Chambered Rolling down barrels
-Skye
Ordinary
It’s the common things The row of milk Whole Skim Even Almond
It’s the cart with the Wonky Grumbly wheel
It’s holding hands While hunting Creamed corn
(Who buys creamed corn anymore, anyways?)
It’s standing in line Watching apples Roll along the belt Knowing with certainty There will be pie.
- Skye
Fall in the Forest
Trees hurl brittle fire
dry raspy whispers tumble heads and heels
flying along the path
hold my hand sip the air
slipping in from the north
and walk this path with me.
-Skye
Path of colors and light by Dominique Guillaume
On the Platform
I saw you in the train window
I saw her too
You saw nothing your eyes were closed her fingers tangled in your hair
The train pulled free
The sway and screech receding down the line
I stood stolid on the platform forgotten coffee in my hand
Looking at the hole that had been your train
Wondering how long you have been gone.
House Hunting
We are looking for a house to keep dreaming really
I like tall grass and wildflowers hardly suitable for some respectable old manor nestled up on the hill of old St. Albans town.
Just a little way down out of town? You say
There is this fine old farmstead over looking Champlain
two Acres of fine grassy knolls but alas We are not people who mow
We would need goats to keep the field neat
I like goats you smile
I smile We can milk them and make soap
We are looking for a house to keep You and I
Victorian with turret? I say dreaming really
I’m so in love with you.
-Skye
Kuutar
Shimmering moth dusted moon maiden
Her skirts spun from the last of setting sun at the nether of day
Dripping dew tossing up a wake of mist obscuring stars
Night soft and certain bows beneath her slippered feet
I sleep her light upon my cheek knowing nothing of her innocence.
"Moth Queen" by anniestegg.
Eternal
So lovely to stroll in the sun amongst the rambling stones draped in hydrangea the Victorians so loved their flowers
Hands held tight our chatter lively who knows what the long dead think of lovers
of desire
I pull you to a huddled assembly of marble decked in lichen beneath the primordial maple well rooted in the dead
I want this eternity the worn stone the opulent branches throwing cool shadows
but only with you two stones leaning in 100 years on.
-Skye
“ I’ll find you in the morning sun” Billie Holiday / I’ll Be Seeing You.
St Mary’s, Reigate, Surrey.
Dark Matter
I am in the parking lot Breathing hard My breath traced by floodlight
The night is hooded I have lost the stars I have lost my car keys
I sit on the tar Lost in space
-Skye
Parking Lot, 2018