Mr. Hudson Leaves Dinner

Sublime and experienced

In the ordinary random things

That never keep at bay the joy

Of smooth floors and straight frame,

The old man outside the hospital gates

Naked blue, runs roughshod

Outside his separation of granite

And unbreakable statues,

Head in the clouds, vibrant as a tiger

Stalking through the juniper

Which are seizing up their evergreens

To spit him out

Away from the marble blindness.

Blind straight

He cannot see decades, and decades ahead

The gentle hands floating to the sky

Too slow, directionless;

Later suffocated, his hair free in oceans,

Dour green

Of sand stuck to sand,

He runs without breathing,

Embracing warmth and kisses,

Continuing, remaining constant,

He parades his newly grown wings

Gliding away from the storm

Of the doctor’s dispensary.

Reviews

[The Twin Arenas]

"naked blue." of course!

[Delmar Cooper]

I try. I squint and peek from behind a nest of fingers, hold my head this way and that, and fail. I blame the light and the angle. I seek the exact twist of perception longing to see the fine clothes others do, but all I see is a naked emperor.

[Moonie]

One of the finest poems that i have read on here in recent times! The visuals are striking and vivid. Overall, the poem stitches together quite well, with each line break positioned perfectly.

[Rosalind Gale]

Thank you so much -
-x-

[Mark]

My favorite poems are always non linear, inviting the reader to feel, to sense rather than make sense.

[Rosalind Gale]

Thank you, Mark -
-x-

[h d e rushin]

if we agree that poetry began as a casting of a spell or in the Pentecostal church, speaking in tongues, then why would we ever question whether this origin was a sacred one? We are all ducks in the inoculum of this analog. All of us are infused with the nonobservance of our own ignorance. We need, when we need to just stay. We stay when all we need is company. We glide away from the unnamed judgments, to strut our plumes with guile and sophistication just to voice out bravery...Your amazing.....dana

[Rosalind Gale]

Thank you, my dear. You know that I understand the horrible pain you have gone through. I wanted to write something for you, but I could not. In this last month, a dear love, an old friend passed on, young and heartbreakingly. I am writing a poem for him, and for you. I love you -
-x-

[Corset]

it seems almost impossible, that its been a year...and your talent has not skipped a beat in all these months, this one feels sad, the health when gone or going effects so much of one's life, that's when we need the ones who love us the most and that's when we should let them care for us, even if not so much for ourselves but for them as well, to get to spend as much time as possible, slowly sinking into a green abyss alone is no way to go. Imho, but id probably do the same thing.

[Rosalind Gale]

Thank you! I write now only for myself, family and my small handful of friends on here :) I am hoping to write one more before the year has gone. I will come visit you very soon -
Has it been six years now since we became electronic friends? I think it has! -
-xx-

[Corset]

That would make little Scarlett about 5 now>? how is she, is she in kindergarten or will you home school her, I'd be petrified to put a child in the schools of today. pics please XDXDXDXD

[Mickey Hilts]

You lady, have a gift. Sublime, as ever.

MH.

[Rosalind Gale]

Thanks so much -
-x-

[Matthew Kult]

Luridly woven rustlings

Great Read

Matthew

[Rosalind Gale]

Thank you so much -
Rosa
-x-

[Matthew Kult]

You are welcome

Matthew