by Darryl Price
Look. There's just you and me left. All the rest of them had already given up a long, long time ago. They dropped their precious, colorful dreams like rusty railroad lanterns, like abandoned pumpkins, and littered the
Twitching fields with their tired laughing leaving footprints. The once floating music was now broken and bleeding, jagged like an egg, but the two of us carried that faithful tune forward in case there were any
Kids like us who still had a beautiful blue spark between their thumb and forefinger for the earth's Future generation. All the empty seats began to blow away like paper bags, but the two of us were still holding
Hands with their happy glowing fading ghosts just in case. The price was a broken heart. One for you. One for me. That was just the saddest beginning of change. The awful hairy monsters wrecking
Everything outside the garden gate had heard the hopeful noise, too, and were hungry for stolen love. They followed all the faintest footprints back into their sleepy little homes, into the lost bedrooms, and
Became fixtures in the deep receding shadows there. The only thing that would save anyone now was a song of their own. You and I would sit outside their fragile windows at night and bounce new ideas
Between the ringing stars, hoping to create at least a true moment of wonder that would wake up any dreamer into the dream. It's what we do. We were never interested in capturing any of you. The
Shadows are the ones full of nets. We have no weapons. We have only ourselves. We say hello again and again. We say wake up, even inside a boring feeling. We say write a poem about nothing. We say take a
Long slow walk with a bunch of elephant trees and see where all the rainbow flowers are going to when they follow the setting sun. See, you thought this was going to end in tears, but it's so much more than
That to me, to us, you and me. Because I'm here and still in love with someone. Because it's my own fingers typing out your name in front of the whole wide universe in the morning light like in the movies.
Your Sleepy Ear
by Darryl Price
I wanted to put the blue sky
in your sleepy ear for old time's
sake, but I don't ever want to
hear you complain about the same
indifferent rain again. I've
heard that particular lament
and I still disagree each and
every time especially with
its sickeningly sweet come on
come on. Look you went looking for
someone to always agree with
your raw food choices. I too went
looking for nothing but some joy.
Sometimes two people can put their
dumb heads together and make a
new sprouting creature capable
of many shining shooting tricks,
I just don't enjoy being a
different animal than I
truly am. You don't believe it's
not for everybody. I don't
believe we need to consume each
other in order to be free.You've your book, I'm still writing mine.
All rights reserved.
It's good to play. I like to play around with everything to do with writing. I play with words, with sentences, with beats, with stanzas, with meanings and with things unsaid between the things being said. Usually when I do this I find an amazing assortment of poems, like mushrooms, growing there. I take them home, make a soup or stew, bring it over to your house and invite myself in for dinner.