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Posted Today

Here’s a few poems from my latest book, “BLEEDING HEARTS AND CROOKED CROSSES.” Also a little of my artwork, which can be seen on exhibit at the “Entertainium Gallery,” Saturday 14th. Be there at 8pm for the opening, poetry-reading and book signing.

I also have a joint exhibit scheduled this August in New York, with the Chinese artist and sculptor, Siu Ling. Watch this space for details.
- Rachel Shelley

 

Ode to Working Class Capitalism.

Longing for a slice of the American Pie
We bite at the California Moon Pie.
Bloated and plastic wrapped, it is
Saccharin-sickly and insubstantial.

We cannot reach to bite at the stars.
Our longings are monstrous,
Fattened by an I.V. T.V. tube,
Thwarted by the hands that feed them.

We are the hungry ghosts.
Keen, lean and begging, we are
Consumers consumed by ambitions far bigger
(Not greater) than ourselves.

Tasting the acid of our addictions,
We dine on dog food and empty promises
Berated and chastised by
The bitter fruit of our very dreams.

 

Late Night Montage.

Moonwraiths seeking pale solace
Beset by weakness we turn
To habits, to others, or to God.
As I search for meaning, the sky

Whispers of convergence…

I believe the world reflects You
But I am sightless and solitary.
I am bereft and still longing
But the love abides.

Poem for Teresa.

Here is where I love you:

Lingering in the crook of your arm
In your dimple that holds my secret kiss
In the moment when my spirit amazingly
Outpours to reside in your chest…

In the curvaceous crescent of the moon.
Like the moon, I long toward fullness
And shine brighter in your orbit.
You are the strength in my soul
That I lack the courage to claim.

Unconscious of your own grace
You liberate me from the cage
I wrap around myself for safety.
Your touch heals my twisted pain.

Street Lament.

Floating atop the dregs of society,
The burnt-out end of social conscience drops into the gutter.
Nobody cares, least of all the Government.
The shattered pieces of my heart drift like Fall leaves
On the icy breath of this city.

I am the consciousness within the entity.
Loss etched into my soul like a bad tattoo.
You won't even spare me a quarter.
You refuse me service.

You tell me to move on,
You are the voice of the city trying to drown me out.
But the sorrow refuses to drown.
Through a steady stream of liquor and other fluids,
The sorrow continues to flow.

Overlooking the Lake.

I have heard you pray for salvation,
Where I am unexpectedly saved is here,
Where we reach to one another.

Here, in the infinity of this moment.

The sky’s smile lingers.
We cradle our lives in the palms
Of each other’s hands.