 A few poems written by Lyn Thorne-Alder Rain Coda Thin Line Rain Pantoum Drop your solemnity and come play with me In this day we've been given, in the warm summer rain The whole world shines with the light, drifting fall And the puddles are calling for us to come play In this day we've been given, in the warm summer rain, the fluorescent-lit inside seems bland, dull and gray, and the puddles are calling for us to come play; my skin and my soul itch for a taste of the sky. The fluorescent-lit inside seems bland, dull and gray, A necessity, yes, best left behind for a while my skin and my soul itch for a taste of the sky - Drop your solemnity and come play with me Coda What a convoluted tail we've come to, lover, A sweetly trilling coda to our life. And, like a dog, with tail between our legs, we Twist ourselves to pieces for this ending, And rearrange the measures to make sense when There's nothing but the ending left to write. Thin Line The back of your neck is a smooth perfect line That demands to be marred - by the bloody arch of bite marks, maybe, or the thin jagged lines left by nails. Your high cheekbones want the redness of a slap, your mouth the fullness of a split lip And I have long since lost the line, with you, between lust and hate. That smooth chest would look lovely, wouldn't it, dripping with your own blood? And the arch of your back with tattoos of yellowing bruises, your wrists with rope-burn bracelets. (I have long since lost the distinction between hunger and anger). |
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