Tag: relationships

“The Cairn” published at LatinosUSA

On By Mike U.In Poetry24 Comments

Hello, friends. Just a quick note to let you know my poem “The Cairn” is now available at LatinosUSA. Many thanks to editor Michelle Navajas for being so kind as to publish this piece. Truly appreciated, Michelle.

“The Cairn”
© 2023 by Michael L. Utley

a handful of stones
the currency of a hardened heart
cannot purchase a reprieve
from the weight of mountains
upon my soul

scree of memories
who can navigate the slope
of ankle-breaking regrets
the sharpened shale
of the empty slate
where hope
was once etched
and now only
dust remains…

You can read the rest of my poem here:

“The Cairn”by Michael L. Utley

I hope you’ll consider following and subscribing to LatinosUSA–a place of unique visions and creative voices from around the world.

“Anchor” published at Gobblers by Masticadores

On By Mike U.In Poetry27 Comments

Just a note to let you know Gobblers by Masticadores has published my poem titled “Anchor.” Thanks to editor Manuela Timofte for her kindness in sharing this piece with all of you.

“Anchor”
© 2022 by Michael L. Utley

“she sat there
9,000 miles away
on the edge of her bed
or the ledge of her building
I never knew which
and talked about anchors
and the black depths
of depression
and what it would feel like
to fly…”

You can read the rest of my poem here:

Anchor

Also, don’t forget to follow and subscribe to Gobblers by Masticadores, where you’ll find some wonderful writing and plenty of food for thought.

“The Daisy Ring” published at Hotel by Masticadores

On By Mike U.In Poetry36 Comments

I’d like to let you know my poem “The Daisy Ring” has been published at Hotel by Masticadores. Many thanks to Editor Michelle Navajas for sharing this poem. I’m truly grateful for your kindness, Michelle.

“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…”

You can read the rest of my poem here:

“The Daisy Ring” by Michael L. Utley

Also, please consider following and subscribing to Hotel by Masticadores, where you’ll discover a world of wonderfully imaginative and profound writing.

“When Ivory Kiku Bloom”

On By Mike U.In Poetry39 Comments

“When Ivory Kiku Bloom”
(c) 2024 by Michael L. Utley

it’s my hope in time to come
when ivory kiku bloom
you’ll remember me
as I remember you

those days so long ago
in absence of joy
fraught with fear and agony
you gazed into the abyss

what did you see in the din
and darkness of depression
what peered back at you
shattered your very soul

in this winter tempest
golden suisen
hides its glowing countenance
waiting for the storm to pass

yet its radiance lives on
deep beneath the blowing snow
its beauty obscured
dimmed for but a moment

I saw your light shining
through your blackest night
with the brilliance of the sun
rising moon’s intensity

in your sorrow you were blind
you saw neither light nor love
nor could you believe
your heart was still alive

thus you mourned a life lost
buried your own soul
oblivion’s rueful loam
brings forth its bitter harvest

in my heart there lies a tomb
wreathed in ivory kiku
every day I pause
to offer my respects

every day I mourn for
what could never be
place my heart upon the shroud
of these fading memories

it’s my hope in time to come
when ivory kiku bloom
you’ll have found your peace
for I’ll remember you

“My Jade Remembrance” (reprise)

On By Mike U.In Poetry48 Comments

(originally posted 10/5/2021)

“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” (reprise)

On By Mike U.In Poetry50 Comments

(originally posted 10/5/2021)

“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

“In Time to Come” (reprise)

On By Mike U.In Poetry28 Comments

(originally posted on 10/4/2021)

“In Time to Come”
(c) 2017 by Michael L. Utley

She had that look about her again
Eyes like chips of coruscating amber
Caught in the westering sun
Her over-there gaze snagged
On some distant memory
Like thorn-caught thread
Hands prim and pale
In her denim lap
Amid foxtails and dandelions
And oak shadows

Things move too fast
When they move too slowly
The heat that summer was unbearable
A bludgeon wielded by a chrome sky
Its merciless swath pounding
Everyone everything into submission
We were not spared

I could reach toward her forever
And never touch her
I’ll tell you in time to come, she’d say
Her tired smile dying before
It reached her eyes
Time to come never coming
Never time enough
Time running out

Let’s sit and enjoy the shade, she’d say
The sun slipping languidly
Into oblivion
Her face haloed
In a warm orange aura
My ephemeral love
Ensconced in flames
Flickering
Flickering

Broken pieces of her
Litter the oak-shadowed grass
One touch and she’d shatter
One embrace and she’d be
All over the place
Delicate balance was
The ruse of muses who
Knew nothing of reality
Who knew nothing of
Love and sickness
And the terrible nectar
Of the tainted honeysuckle

Even the birds are quiet

There is no darkness
As black as love
No pit as plumbless
As that filled with regret
Her brown eyes
Smiling and weeping at once
Succumbing to demons
Unknown to me
So much of her slate blank
Her portrait only half-finished
Before the paint dried out
And the canvas rent asunder

Broken pieces of her
Litter the oak-shadowed grass
I used to collect them
Their razor edges
Slicing my hands bloody
Only a few remain
Among the foxtails and dandelions
Her voice only an echo now
I’ll tell you in time to come

“The Cairn”

On By Mike U.In Poetry45 Comments

“The Cairn”
(c) 2023 by Michael L. Utley

a handful of stones
the currency of a hardened heart
cannot purchase a reprieve
from the weight of mountains
upon my soul

scree of memories
who can navigate the slope
of ankle-breaking regrets
the sharpened shale
of the empty slate
where hope
was once etched
and now only
dust remains

we walked that path
through the foothills of yesterday
where everything was evergreen
the eternal evening
redolent of lilac and honeysuckle
and wild rose
and the wan moon
dozed in the lavender sky
and you were there
but you weren’t there
your body in a mountain meadow
and your mind in
a roiling pit of despair

I held your hand
more tightly than I should have
I couldn’t let go
not then
(not now)
but you didn’t seem to mind
your trembling fingers
nested in my palm
like a dying sparrow
losing heat
as you lost opacity

I could see you fading

we walked that path
where the trees thicken
and congregate
and whisper furtively
and the air hangs in tatters
from gnarled, pensive boughs
and you closed your eyes
and hummed an atonal tune
more of a whimper than a song
and I tried to accompany you
but my voice was gone
stone-silent
lungs airless
mind blank
and your strange aria
stirred the moon-dappled patches
on the path
into a kaleidoscope of sorrow
and a smile touched your pale lips
as my heart broke

I held your hand
until it was nothing
but a memory
the sky above
now an empty void
your skin iridescing
in the gloaming
as though tinctured
with fallen stars
and glowing novae
evanescing
your essence diminishing

we walked that path
until I walked alone
your silent song
forever in my mind
an echo among
cold indifferent granite peaks
the sound of emptiness
of a heart in pieces
of a life bereft of solace
a handful of stones
to remind me
that you existed
long ago
and far away

should you ever
pass this way again
look for the cairn
along the path
there you’ll find
what’s left
of my heart

“The Thing on the Ground”

On By Mike U.In Poetry26 Comments

“The Thing on the Ground”

(c) 2017 by Michael L. Utley

There—the thing on the ground
Some insect or other
A leg detached
Dragged off by ants

It kicks in stupid
Futile spasms
Insectoid mind buzzing in
Some alien tongue
Antennae crippled
Useless

I step closer
Hovering above
As this pedestrian drama plays
Below me

“Jump, damn you!
Save yourself,
Worthless grasshopper!”

I am strangely furious at this
Pathetic thing
This helpless thing
As it dies before my eyes

“Get up! Jump!”

I feel the sting of salt
In my eyes
The tears that have
Abandoned me for eons
Doubling the writhing thing
On the ground
Trebling it in a
Saline blur

It gazes dumbly
At the sky
The clouds
The sun
All too busy in their
Mindless journey above
To notice what’s below

Another spasm
Another kick
A pebble bounces away
Mandibles scream in
Silent rage

I close my eyes
I see her
The one I couldn’t save
The doomed, damned one
Who finally broke me in two
The crippled one too far gone
The one who dragged me to the brink
And jumped

Too late

I open my eyes

The ants have returned
The thing on the ground
Kicks languidly
Dispassionately
A shudder
A twitch

The ants swarm

“Anchor”

On By Mike U.In Poetry43 Comments

“Anchor”
(c) 2022 by Michael L. Utley

she sat there
9,000 miles away
on the edge of her bed
or the ledge of her building
I never knew which
and talked about anchors
and the black depths
of depression
and what it would feel like
to fly

“You’re my only reason
for being,” she said
and was she laughing
or crying?
it’s hard to tell while
text-chatting
(damn my deaf ears)
“You’re the only anchor
I have left,” she said
and there was a long

pause

and I thought I heard the
wind whipping past
my ears
and felt my heart
in my throat

“I’ll always love you,” she said
smiley face / crying face
emojis

my fingers wouldn’t work
my keyboard was mute
my mind as blank
as the empty miles
between us

“I had the dream again,” she said
I squeezed my eyes shut
while she typed
I didn’t want to read it again
but I was helpless against
the machinations of my own heart
and she pried them open
from across the sea

we walked hand-in-hand
in a flower-burst
mountain meadow
the colors like something
out of a kaleidoscopic acid trip
the sky the hue of ancient oceans
the capricious breeze
flirting with her obsidian hair
her caramel eyes closed
her face
enraptured
turned up to the sun
and we passed
through columbines
lupine fire-weed
monkshood sun flowers
while conifers and aspens
susurrated, whispering secretively
in the language of the trees
amid strange atonal birdsong

then the wind arose
intensified
and her feet left the ground

panic smudged the smile
from her face
and she looked at me
wide-eyed
horrified
as she floated up
toward the howling sky
as though she were
being drawn by some
anomalous gravity
and she cried out in terror
her eyes bulging
her hand crushing mine
in a death-vise
and she screamed
“Don’t let me go!”
over and over
as she was wrenched
from my grip
and sucked up
into the sun

I turned my head
her text a saline blur
my heart pounding
ears ringing

and a string of
crying face emojis
snaked across my screen

a few moments passed

“I’ll always love you…”
she repeated
and ended the chat

and I felt the dead weight
of a severed anchor
crush my heart