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by RP Verlaine



The Candles Waver


Even the moon

in her eyes is

never whole.


Yet somehow she turns

the axis I cling to

with the lost balance necessary

posturing me

backwards to

errors worth repenting.


Tossing the small gold

cross I wore for

years in the garbage.


She borrows shadows

of night for her

sensual sorcery upon a bed

night after night

where “sounds speak loudest”

she lies before blowing

out the candles.


With lips that scald

when they so desire

with fire that doesn't burn

but does far worse.




a line, (a short blue one)





Her nerves jangling

with discord.“I need a xanax”

she tells me sipping tea.

We're out doors in a late

afternoon when

darkening clouds

serve notice  rain

will find us without

cover or so much

as a discount store



She swallows two

white pills and with

trembling hands

hands me my

poems newly typed

and now pristine after

a few hours with

her. editing skills.


The young waitress

asks if we need anything.

“A new life,” says Lea.

Not what she wanted to hear

but I hand her a plastic card

and she vanishes.


Lea says, I like the poem

about the woman

who purposely  killed her

husband telling the cops

she thought he was a burglar

but was hit by lightning

during the funeral service.”


“Its' a bit far fetched I know

but …”  I feel the first


“Lets go,” I say.

“I have to finish my tea”

she said as I felt

two more raindrops.                                   




a line, (a short blue one)



At The Dali Exhibit


A kiss in a moment daring

to be stolen.


Dali's melting time pieces unwinding

in reverse.


And the gold Lady Godiva bathed

in lightning.


Had heightened our senses to see

past the obvious.


Yet I still wanted Kelsie's elusive tongue

faithful to no one, one more time in

a room of Dali's mirrors.


Live puzzles fractured and broken

as if intent on capturing

only us.


In the thousand surreal reflections

multiplied until I could

almost be convinced


she meant it once.




a line, (a short blue one)



Famous Once


the child/teen

star aged out

Glitter Peeled

A meteor

crashing through

from darkness

to brilliance

A shooting star

a fleeting dance

of mediocrity

defeated forever

in the brief

some said




a fallen faded

you were famous

shower of sparks

gone in the lost

lifespan of

grace pausing

to consider

the moving on






a line, (a short blue one)



Perils Of Lip Reading

For Iggy Pop...



My eardrums

leak blood

I wanna be your dog


loud enough for

spinal column

to almost lead me

to dance

as I walk

miming its words

through park

a pretty too

young girl

to know the song

reads my lips

and runs




a line, (a blue one)


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