Rounding North

Am I coming, Are you going, Which way to North

To feel natural, To feel free

Skinned in fur, beneath a tree

Resting … Soundly

 

For the ground, I get dizzy

Clawing at restraints

Is it so simple, to be wanted

Or destined for complaints

Haunt me with your memories

Our freedom hides in the seeds

Sewn in paper printed pasts

Through naked visioned looking glass

Of rose hues and bluish grass

 

Are you coming, Am I going, Which way goes round

All the stress, Every tension

A bi-poll, what suspension

Waking … Globely

 

I’m going round, Which way confounds

Bathe me in fluid ease

Yellow sounds call out upon your breeze

Catch me, catch me, set me free

What is it that you want to be

Take me up into your hem

Drop the stitch and sew me in

Keep me just a little while

Treasure me … make me smile

 

Am I coming, What’s that sound

The hands are walking, which way round

Sounds of burning

Scorching … Earthly

 

I’m heading up, Correct me please

That fragrance resonates within

Triggering my puzzled grin

Flip me round

Cause me to spin

Vertigo shows me the way

Of travelers past my present stay

With the mischief tucked away

My direction waits another day

 

Poetry and Photography by A. Cusato
All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

Idly By – A Bedtime Story

Meditation falls in powder

Its stillness fills my mind

I beg it to leave, a needed reprieve

But silence stops it blind

Painted in markings sharp and cool

A simple curving line

A steel, a glimpse, of a wandering tool

The need for extra time

This crisp gift begets a madness

With idle hands, I fall

Creativity spare me the sadness

One moment of them all

Luxury, a breathless empty

The glass is halfway full

A shovel, a sweep, exhaust me to sleep

To dream a mental pull

The hue crosses from pale to red

So warm, it rushes in

We coax them gently, each fluid vessel

To travel deep within

Following release with tension

Images crossing by

A breath, mumble, I begin to stumble

Soft aches belli the fly

There is this mistress looking out

Forewarned, avert your gaze

She feeds your mind whole, then steals your soul

Leaving you in a daze

 

Poetry and Photography by A. Cusato
All Rights Reserved

 

 

Defying Gravity

That’s how they get ya, MmHm

The sinners

The judgers

The politicians

The nosey neighbors with their complaints

 

That’s how they get ya, that’s right

The grubbers

The sportsers

The beans

The musicians who sing of hate

 

That’s how they get ya, you know

The relatives

The religious

The rebellious

The gravity that pulls us so

 

That’s how they get ya, people

The hoarders

The drunks

The writers

The enablers who make it grow

 

That’s how they get ya

Filled with guilt

Beguiled by lies

Defying plight

With gravity, watch it fall

 

 

Feckless Desire

The peculiarity of your existence

Lies in my persistence

To calm your need with varied touch

And caress the quest, this is a must

 

There is a balance I struggle to find

Of singularity, one sublime

I have awakened to inner peace

Of mind, of body, of soaking sheets

 

Could it be forward, to the way it was

Before the meeting, the coffee buzz

Before the heat, before the flight

Before the confusion that made us fight

 

When did it twist and take my tongue

Replace my presence with a mug

To be so lost to grasp for nothing

And cling to it with hopes for something

 

This life, this life, it spreads like mold

It rings my neck and leaves me cold

It hides the nourishment I require

And teases me with feckless desire

 

Poetry and Photography by Allison Cusato
All Rights Reserved