carlo321 Poetry (5)

Sowing of seeds

Seedlings emerge one then another
excitement heightens with each first breath of sunlight

a formative time to instill love
to nurture-
gentle, affectionate
a shelter from a harsh environment

with each passing day, limbs strengthen
as does the bond between you
grown of the seeds you’ve planted
each individual; some more manicured, some wild
but all beautiful in their own way

a sturdy branch to lean upon
provides an extension of self
a warm touch and a gentle kiss reassures

as the flowers blossom, what a sight to behold
an investment of the heart
so proud!

now reaping the rewards of seeds you’ve sown
as giving is receiving
the ultimate gift of selflessness

a pollination of morals, generosity and character
now carried within the seeds that the flowers hold.


Carlos Kinosian

Forsaken

Dim light grows as dawn breaks
sunlight touches the fogged panes
peering out the bathroom window
a beautiful day
doesn’t really feel that way

gazing into the mirror
hollow cheeks and sleepless eyes
shaving cream and razor
queasy stomach wrought with knots

another reflection of a younger self
worried head down
shaving cream and toy razor
little lips tremble

a slow gaze upward
long lashes meet brows
care-worn eyes well

an agonized voice fills the room
“why do people get a divorce dad?”
vision more blurred with each moment
the sudden taste of salt

impossible to speak
teeth and fists clenched
strength diminishing

eyes follow mine
rugs to comfort our feet now gone
no smell of lavender soap or the dish that it rested on

unspoken thoughts are shared
how to answer- how to answer
patient eyes wait
minds now racing
say something!

Affectionate arms wrap warm around my waist
a soft loving cheek on my belly
“is this forever dad?”

throat tight with anxiety
the rush of cold sweat
no spit to swallow

voices quiver
emotions escape with each breath
“not really sure son”

shaving cream faces painted by sorrow’s brush
droplets of white fall from our chin

an anguished smile
false confidence

soft innocent cheeks warm my palms
as I kiss the tears from his eyes

“In our hearts we will always be together son
even when we can’t”

“Why daddy- why?”



Carlos Kinosian

Awakening

White columns frame the warm brilliance
as mahogany creeks beneath curves feet
roasted coffee warms the pallet and excites the nose
warm muffins and butter sweet

billowing white smoke exhaled, lingers overhead
the scented richness that a distant soil sends
the subtle groan of giants echo as they gently sway
while the familiar cold hand of winter wanes

natures song flourishes upon wings
the essence of life carried with it
welcomed by earths fertile warmth
in a 40 year slumber you might miss it

squinted eyes ponder this restoration of courted harmony
while heavy hearts are lifted by sunlight’s kiss
deaf to those who cannot hear
and blind to those who are selfish

then- this resounding realization
that strikes with a calm blow
all to often absorbed by unimportance
to love the things that grow

this awakening resonates a lingering memory of what once was
now coddled by good fortune and her!


Carlos Kinosian

Shadows on the cobblestones

Irregular shaped and fable worn
Dark secrets protrude like broken bones
Shadows on the cobblestones

The billy slaps a rhythm on his palm as he walks the Bobbies beat
While the reflections of the gas lanterns flicker
Fogged shapes in the pale light; dark upon the cobblestones

Hooves and wooden carriage wheels chase the crag
Burdened by the wayfarer
Clip, clop, creek, wear the cobblestones

Top hats of beaver, fine cloth and feathers
Silver tipped canes clack in-time with an aloof gate
From spent pipes the dottle drops upon the cobblestones

Tormented fingertips protrude from shabby gloves
Wet wool stench from ragged blankets
These; now long bereft of greater sires
Tin cupped figures huddle on the cold wet of the cobblestones

“Good evening Sir”; mutters a shameful voice, “Can you spare a pense Sir”?
The down turned mouth of contempt panders bye
O tight is the purse strings of noses high
Rarely heard, ever a pittance falls upon the cobblestones

Dark circled eyes, like soot stained memories upon aged brick
Her cloth is poor, hollow cheeks voice a cockney murmur
“Are you in need of some company love”?

A rotten toothed grin, he is loathsome and degrading
“What can I get for a shilling”?
Her tattered plaid indignity pulled above her bruised knees
She opens the door reluctant¬--
Her eyes cast down among the shadow on the cobblestones.



Carlos Kinosian

Melodramatic Compulsion

Shallow placid strokes, relaxed and unaware
She is beautiful, wet and alluring
She awaits the Unsuspecting

Snug in a plastic cradle…confident
Lulled with secure ignorance, so blissful

Suspended boughs clung with grass and leaves, like Spanish moss
A lingering memory of her rage and ferocity
Now soothingly caressed by her fluid movements

Reflected in her, a mirrored beauty of her surroundings
A damsel dance, as basking painted shells slip beneath her shimmering sunlight vale

A Pileated song, as Swallows kiss the turbid stained tannins while sipping sulphurs
An occasional ripple radiates from beneath her as silver mail reflects the waning sunlight

Fickle is she-- so ever-changing; overturned by her mutable touch
In an instant, the cradle now submerged and suffocated by her
The Unsuspecting clambers upon slimy rocks

More cautious now, a lesson learned
Wide eyed, the contour or her curves followed
Deeper strokes more deliberate
She writhes, bucks, and heaves

Heart pounding… deeper strokes… faster now
Rocking, twisting, white noise
Thrusting, almost there… the climax!

She slows-- strokes more gentle
Torrid sweat grinning
She convulses slow and rhythmic
Concurred, she subsides

She is beautiful, wet and alluring
Excitement, danger
To be with her again
I am compelled.



Carlos Kinosian