(c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley
(#7)
My eyes hear what my
Ears cannot see I wash my
Mouth of bitter taste
Of memories long past and
Chase scent of elusive hope
…..
(#8)
Distant memories
Hide like frail columbines
Shade-bound ‘neath the firs
Fragile petals woe-dappled
In the meadows of my mind
…..
(#9)
To open my heart
Is a mighty task I am
Not prepared to do
I no longer hold the key
To what’s locked inside of me
“Fade”
(c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley
Dusk has fallen as
Stars scream heavenward and doves
Murmur mournfully
Evening-song has come and I
Cannot hear day’s parting cry
Night blooms above as
Insects whisper mysteries
And wolves share solemn
Oaths on phantom breeze and I
Cannot hear dark’s somber sigh
Dawn symphony births
Strident morning melody
As birds wake the sun
And earth speaks to me and I
Cannot hear the singing sky
I have lost so much
My earth my sky autumn odes
Winter dirges spring
Soliloquies summer chants
Fading in silent echoes
And I
Cannot bear to hear them die
“The Footbridge”
(c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley
That derelict footbridge
Has finally failed
Stranding us on
Opposite shores
Of the abyss
Words
Like rotted planks
Litter the gorge
Below
Desires and dreams
Dashed
Upon indifferent rocks
Silence is all
I hear from you
Subdued echoes
Of regret
Perish
In opaque mists
Impenetrable
To starlight
And hope
The absence
Of closure
Rooting me
In place
Heart seized
By fear
And uncertainty
Did you turn
And walk away
Or did you
Plummet
Like our words
Into the
Sepulchral gulf
And must I
Remain here
Forever
Waiting for
The answer which will
Never come
(c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley
…..
(#4)
Northern memories
Chill my heart as bitter cold
Crystallizes tears
Frozen shame adorns my face
Wind howls in my lonely soul
…..
(#5)
My heart spills itself
Upon the ground like untied
Bags of grain carried
Carelessly upon the back
Thoughtless birds feast on my tears
…..
(#6)
Can my heart hear what
Deaf ears cannot, can my soul
Sense what eyes can’t see
Can I feel alive when all
I love has abandoned me
“The Daisy Ring”
(c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley
“I found thee in a faerie copse…”
“Hmm?” she murmured
Her gaze caught somewhere
In the rainy neon night-world
Beyond the coffee shop window
Her fingers weightless
Feather-like
In my hand
Ethereal
Furnace-hot
“I found thee in a faerie copse
Alighting on each flower fair
And as I ‘proached thee in the hopes
Of snaring thee in lovers’ ropes
Thou disappeared into thin air…”
She looked at me then
A faint smile teasing
Her lips
“Your poetry is terrible,” she said
Her tired eyes regarding me warmly
For a moment before
Returning to the
Pouring rain beyond
Our personal universe
Of rickety little table and
Untouched mocaccinos
Her brown eyes
Glistening
Misting
As she scanned the night
A single tear tracing
The curve of her cheekbone
In the garish glare of the
Outside world
I stared at her hand
Too pale and fragile
Almost transparent
As it nestled idly in mine
Like some sickly dove
The delicate silver band on her
Too-thin ivory finger
Etched with some flowing
Unknown script resembling a
Daisy chain
It was all I could do
Not to look at
The rest of her
But I did anyway
I had to
And it hurt
I closed my eyes
And allowed my
Memories of her
To replace the despairing image
Burned into my mind
As she sat in somber contemplation
On an unremarkable stormy night
In some nameless coffee shop
In an arbitrary world
Where prayers go unanswered
And hope dies on the vine
And nothing is what it seems
The image that settled
In my mind’s eye was
The first time I saw her
As I made my aimless way along
Some mindless city sidewalk
In some pointless other reality
Her face ensconced in a
Breeze-blown mane of
Luxuriant onyx hair
As she peered out the window
Of a passing bus
Looking at nothing
Lost in some reverie of her own
A faint bemused smile
Causing her face to glow
So brightly I had to
Look away or be blinded
And though she didn’t see me
I couldn’t stop seeing her
And was it fate that I eventually
Found her?
A miracle?
Random chance?
I chose fate
But I was wrong
I didn’t find her
She found me
And by that point
It was too late
I opened my eyes
And all pretense fled
Immediately
She was fading
Diminishing
Before my eyes
Her essence draining
As though her soul
Had been punctured
By some eldritch poisoned dart
She must have known
What I was thinking
(She always did)
And she looked at me
Out of anguished eyes
Drowning in
Dark forbidden pools
And squeezed my hand with
All of her might
Her grip so weak by now
So frail
“You can’t save me…”
I looked at her angrily
About to deny this lie
This horrible, god-awful lie
“No…” she whispered
She reached out and
Touched my cheek
And after a time
All my anger dissolved
Into shame
And ran down my face
She wiped away
My pathetic tears and
Placed her moistened hand
Back in mine
Her sterling daisy ring
Gleaming dully
“Tell me again,” she said
As she tried to smile
“Tell me again of how you found me…”
And I looked at her
A solemn, resigned calmness
Settling over me like
A sheet pulled over the face
Of the deceased
She knew it wasn’t true
She knew she’d chosen me
Not the other way around
And I’d been powerless to resist
But she indulged my silly-sad
Fantasies
Because she loved me
And because she loved my
Puerile poetry
I swallowed hard
Shut my eyes against
What was about to happen
And said
“I found thee in a faerie copse…”
Her hand began to tremble in mine
“Alighting on each flower fair…”
The din of the coffee shop quieted
As the subtle incense
Of pine and myrtle
Wafted delicately
“And as I ‘proached thee in the hopes…”
A distant, stifled sob lilted softly
In the silence amid
The nearly indiscernible cries
Of birdsong
“Of snaring thee in lovers’ ropes…”
Her hand pulled away from mine
As gently as a parting lover’s kiss
“Thou disappeared into thin air…”
There was an almost imperceptible sigh
Like a forlorn forest breeze
When I finally opened my eyes
Her burnished silver daisy ring was
All that was left of her
She was gone
(c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley
…..
(#1)
My empty heart holds
More of you than I can bear
There is no more room
For mem’ries of mountain song
Sorrow-blossoms weep for you
…..
(#2)
In chill morning air
I wake up the sun and set
The breeze in motion
Wafting heaven’s incense through
Sleeping earth and drowsing sky
…..
(#3)
In the depths of night
I reach through the years for you
With each passing day
Time takes you away from me
Dying echoes in the dark
“When Field Work is Done”
(c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley
When field work is done and soil tells
A tale of fragrant earth in russet tones
When ground-mist hunkers in secluded dells
And eventide descends upon the swells
Of solemn and discordant distant bells
I follow god-beams west, these tired bones
Sun-gilded in the cool remains of day
As fields pass beside the cobblestones
And honey-hives a-swarm with buzzing drones
And cudding cow in pasture lows and moans
The neighbor’s barn, a faded sun-bleached gray
Leans sleepily as I approach the bend
Where cobblestones succumb to moistened clay
And farm cats mouse-hunt stealthily in hay
And foals and piglets gambol as they play
Ripe apple trees stretch roadward to suspend
Their fruits to all who amble past below
And conifers at orchard’s distant end
Stand sentry as if ready to defend
This past’ral scene from all who might offend
And I, as evening stars begin to glow
And insects tune their instruments and sing
Their night-song, wend my way beside the slow
And clam’rous brook that gleams not far below
As moon peeks through the pines and winks hello
And pausing, I can’t help remembering
The lonely hearth that waits at home, the still
And barren house, silent, unwelcoming
The empty bed, no candle beckoning
No one who waits upon my homecoming
I watch the moon as noisy waters rill
Then close my eyes and breathe in willow-air
And stand alone in darkling evening’s chill
And tell myself through iron force of will
To swallow yet again this bitter pill
Then turning back the way I came, I stare
Into the gloaming’s ever-deep’ning hue
As tired feet propel me through the glare
Of starlit tears that blind and shame, and there
In dim distance the fate I’m doomed to bear
I run as moonlit field comes into view
For nothing’s left but field work to do
“It’s Much Too Late”
(c) 2017 by Michael L. Utley
Autumn rain
Cannot slake
Summer’s thirst
It’s much too late
For yellowed grass
And barren field
Leaves which fall unseen
Litter ground in mounds
Scarlet memories
It’s much too late
For mountain leas
Devoid of hue
Flowers fade
Petals drift
On chill wind
It’s much too late
For drought-cracked earth
And bitter weeds
Which cling to parched dirt
Brittle claws succumb
Snap like frail bones
It’s much too late
This autumn rain
Which rills the ground
Sweeps away
All that’s left
Of summer
It’s much too late
To heal the wounds
Of all that’s lost
All that’s left behind
All that’s left of life
All that’s left of me
It’s much too late
“My Jade Remembrance”
(c) 2019 by Michael L. Utley
I used to know you
9,000 tears ago
A tear for every mile
That kept me from you
A tear for every moment
Not spent with you
A tear for every hope
Not shared with you
9,000 tears
A jade remembrance
For my brown-eyed love
A dusky green heart
On a silver chain
I keep in my pocket
It was for you
Everything was for you
Everything I had
Everything gone except
My jade remembrance
You were already dead
Before I ever met you
Your path etched in stone
I was just a detour
A distraction on your way
Into darkness
A temporary reprieve
An unplanned respite
For the lost girl
The girl who would learn to fly
Or die trying
And I was the lost boy
The boy who had
Never seen the sun
Until I saw you
The boy whose shattered heart
Had one last beat for you
A final crescendo for my
Brown-eyed love
I couldn’t fix you
You weren’t broken
You were destroyed
Crushed by the weight of
Damnation
Hounded by demons
Unknown to me
Yet you smiled at me
And pulled me from
My own abyss
And I loved you
My jade remembrance
Are you still there
Did you close your eyes
And take that leap of faith
Did you learn to fly
Or did you die trying
You didn’t just take your life
You took mine too
I keep your heart in my pocket
On a silver chain
“Ripples”
(c) 2017 by Michael L. Utley
There are no ripples
On this frozen pond
The puk-puk-puk of
The pebble
Skittering on iced skin
Dampened by
Frost-thick air
Breath caught short
In lung-numbed gasps
Silent words
Suspended
In wintry sighs
Eyes pools of
Frigid tear-prisms
Bitter empty gelid rainbows
Where are you
You missed our flight to Tokyo
The cherry blossoms whispered your name
As Fuji, incurious and remote
Gazed white-helmed
At my solitary shadow
My empty hand
Holding more of you
Than my heart could bear
We did not walk
Beneath flicker-flamed
Paper lanterns
On blood-red bridges
Spanning koi ponds
Under the spring moon
The rising sun
Sought to kiss your cheek
But was denied
As I was denied
You missed auroras
Over Iceland
The Arctic colder
In your absence
The night sky draped
In shimmering iridescent
Thought
The emerald musings of some distant god
Snagged in dark desolation
My own thoughts of you
Caught in my own
Desolation
You missed the candent sands
Of Morocco
Capricious zephyrs
Erasing my footprints
In a desert bereft of
Your footprints
We did not dance
In the summer swelter
Beneath date palms
And stars that sought
To light your way
But failed
Your body absent
In my arms
The scent of your hair
A distant memory which
Hot breezes scatter
In the night
You missed our train
To the Rockies
Where larkspur and columbine
Awaited you with open arms
And later mourned in silence
My singular form without you
By my side
We did not hold hands in
Flower-burst mountain meadows
Azure lakes reflected only
My lone countenance
As conifers murmured
Demurely in cool breezes
Wondering if you
Would ever arrive
You missed our drive
Through New England hills
Autumn maple and hemlock
A conflagration burning for you
Yearning for you
The birches and beeches smoldering
In my heart
Red-orange-gold leaves
Suiciding in silent sadness
Loneliness wearing my face
Stalks these woods
You are nowhere to be found
You missed my arrival
In Singapore
The airport a swarm
Of faces
A blur of oceanic humanity
As I searched for one safe harbor
One stormless island
In this storm of chaos
Your face
A lighthouse to guide me home
Your beacon never appearing
No fog horn guiding me safely
Through treacherous surf
Your bottomless brown eyes
Nowhere
Your smile cut roughly from this mural
Missing
A ragged hole where you should be
In my life
Perhaps you were a
Phantom
All along
Puk-puk-puk
No ripples on this frozen pond
Not enough pebbles remain
To last until springtime thaw
One ripple is all I ask
One ripple to finally reach you
I’ll save a pebble
Just in case
Silent Pariah 