—Poetry by Kevin M. Hibshman, Philadelphia, PA
—Public Domain Photos
EXILE ON PAIN STREET
Dread miasma of early morning.
Sirens and skateboarders barely penetrate my boredom.
Looking back sideways on a failed experiment.
How you loved my jutting front tooth.
How you hated my poems.
I remember the view from one of your rooms.
A lighted church steeple stabbing at the night sky.
I wore your scent like a warrior through each daily battle until
it reached the home front.
Dread miasma of early evening.
Shop owners and random pedestrians make a coldly familiar clatter.
The sound of angry traffic can usually thrust me back to the very basics of
a love gone wrong.
On the street, strangers eye me as if they sense there is something missing.
I must look like
I have just lost something like hope, a heart and a home.
Dread miasma of early morning.
Sirens and skateboarders barely penetrate my boredom.
Looking back sideways on a failed experiment.
How you loved my jutting front tooth.
How you hated my poems.
I remember the view from one of your rooms.
A lighted church steeple stabbing at the night sky.
I wore your scent like a warrior through each daily battle until
it reached the home front.
Dread miasma of early evening.
Shop owners and random pedestrians make a coldly familiar clatter.
The sound of angry traffic can usually thrust me back to the very basics of
a love gone wrong.
On the street, strangers eye me as if they sense there is something missing.
I must look like
I have just lost something like hope, a heart and a home.
DROWN SLEEP
I do not wish to greet the dawn.
I would rather lie encased in the jeweled sheen of sleep.
Shimmering for an eternity.
A museum piece.
Bury me deep in your most unexplored regions.
Safe and warm with no need to dream.
Consciousness is over-rated.
I do not wish to greet the dawn.
I would rather lie encased in the jeweled sheen of sleep.
Shimmering for an eternity.
A museum piece.
Bury me deep in your most unexplored regions.
Safe and warm with no need to dream.
Consciousness is over-rated.
CHROME ANGEL
I admire you for you cannot help but shine.
Heavy wing.
Glowing thing like a promise I once meant to keep.
I will allow you to haunt me.
I admire you for you cannot help but shine.
Heavy wing.
Glowing thing like a promise I once meant to keep.
I will allow you to haunt me.
TWO NIGHTS
They're what we have to trample the terrain
where flesh meets spirit.
Two nights to roam and explore on a sleeping-bagged
floor.
A chase made in haste but hopeful for more.
Two nights ago it was quite a different scene.
I was out wearing my dread of tomorrow.
A collar of sorrow that gleamed just enough to catch your eye.
Here a time-worn tableau takes its febrile shape as I
try to articulate passion's ever-changing hue.
The colors dance for me first red, then gold, then electric blue.
They're what we have to trample the terrain
where flesh meets spirit.
Two nights to roam and explore on a sleeping-bagged
floor.
A chase made in haste but hopeful for more.
Two nights ago it was quite a different scene.
I was out wearing my dread of tomorrow.
A collar of sorrow that gleamed just enough to catch your eye.
Here a time-worn tableau takes its febrile shape as I
try to articulate passion's ever-changing hue.
The colors dance for me first red, then gold, then electric blue.
Today’s LittleNip:
I WONDER
—Kevin M. Hibshman
Living with you.
Living with me.
I accept gladly
Your pain
My pleasure
Pandora's box or
Buried treasure?
_____________________
We’re lucky enough to have another new visitor to the Kitchen today! Kevin M. Hibshman has had his poetry, prose, reviews and collages published around the world, most recently in Punk Noir Magazine, Piker Press, Rye Whiskey Review, Piker Press, The Crossroads, Drinkers Only, 1870, Synchronized Chaos, Yellow Mama, Unlikely Stories Mark V, Literary Yard, Lothlorien Poetry Journal and now Medusa's Kitchen.
Welcome to the Kitchen, Kevin! And don’t be a stranger…
_____________________
—Medusa
I WONDER
—Kevin M. Hibshman
Living with you.
Living with me.
I accept gladly
Your pain
My pleasure
Pandora's box or
Buried treasure?
_____________________
We’re lucky enough to have another new visitor to the Kitchen today! Kevin M. Hibshman has had his poetry, prose, reviews and collages published around the world, most recently in Punk Noir Magazine, Piker Press, Rye Whiskey Review, Piker Press, The Crossroads, Drinkers Only, 1870, Synchronized Chaos, Yellow Mama, Unlikely Stories Mark V, Literary Yard, Lothlorien Poetry Journal and now Medusa's Kitchen.
Welcome to the Kitchen, Kevin! And don’t be a stranger…
_____________________
—Medusa
Kevin M. Hibshman
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