3 Poems by Clifford K. Watkins, Jr.

A Poem for Eva (introduction).

Hello Eva,

After reading your blog, I had a moment of inspiration and wrote this. A lot of people perceive my writing as being senseless ramble, but if you weigh the words, there's definitely connective tissue and deeper meaning. My poems are ambiguous in nature allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions and relate the poems to themselves. Art is about free expression for the artist, but good art also allows the observer the chance to interpret a work through their eyes, thus finding their own meaning in relation to their lives. No two people perceive the world in the same way. There's always something to be learned from every person. I wonder what I will learn from you?

I thoroughly enjoyed reading your blog. You're very straightforward in your writing, which is beautiful in its honesty and simplicity. The way you express yourself without being pretentious is very pure. I imagine that it would be quite something to know you. Well, drop me a line sometime if you'd care to chat.

Peace and gesundheit
(RoTuN)Clifford K. Watkins, Jr.

*

A Poem for Eva

she seeks solace
connectedness
she is vulnerable in words
assuaging her emptiness
heedless
unnoticed
unheard
satiating her hunger
then she takes another mask
she lives in shadows
deals in facades
unearthed stones
how long will it last
desperately blue
so alone
to start anew
a mirror shatters
fragments of you
echoes of laughter
wanting fusion
for some it comes faster
and others
never
and fear is their master
broken
severed
I'm that disconnected bastard
existing only in a solon's eye
a glimmer of hope
a sedentary-sigh
a spurious jewel
a broken crayon dream
angry
darker
mean


the essence of woman
exhibiting her colors
wonderful complexity
volatile in nature
mercurial in truth
yet
beautiful


momentary liberation
fleeting wholeness
she walks thru shards
of a broken mirror
everyone is there
all of their faces
yet
she is absent
an apparition
longing to transcend
to feel anything
to be real again
alone in the world
without her one true friend
listlessly she ventures
combing the air
wearing a cartoon smile
does anyone notice
would anyone care

laughing through the pain
enough to stay semi-sane
seeking rebirth
searching for her shard
contemplating her worth
embracing herself into unconsciousness
tears in darkness
relief
dim-sanctity of dreams
lonely sanctuary
insanity streams
a world on a whim
awakened to dawn's futility
waiting for life to begin
the end

A fence

ashes
liberated thinkers
dreamers
cookie-cutter individualists
cane-pole weaponry
pointless scribbles
droplets of bliss
wash bowls of virtue
scrubbing away grief
clinched fists
believe
simulated flesh
prisoner's sleeve
breathe
grinded teeth
imagination's slave
the palace of fear
mocking angels descending
farther
near
feathers
laughter
reflection
lucky failing conception
no sense
reality
running into the sun
eyes collapsed
salty surprise
time
flies
a fleeting glimpse of genius
a buffoon flying a kite
taste of the ocean
nervous strangers
gothic chic chain-smoking
cloves
decaffeinated coffee
soft voice
anger
deceit
imperfection
ocean foam
happier than mad
waves crashing
violent swirls of sand
a castle
tidal wave
shell remnants
bread crumbs
feasting seabirds
hungry bums
birds scatter
a broken shark's tooth
and a desperate stranger's hand

drinking with the homeless
a gothic chic
and frenzied birds
I lit the filter
and laughed like
a lap dancer
dry-humped into oblivion

-----------------------------------------

Brain Storming For Zilya 

 

reflection
tainted
imperfect
me
bodies mangle in crystal gleaming fury
step aside
I can't see
what
it is a canvas breathing and clinching
avoiding a lynching by several multitudes
secret but glued
raise another tree to grow old with me
lessen the burden of longevity
we mutants of the golden beggar's sun
have returned to the gallery
and its shower of sarcasm
now we burn
and spread ashes on our canvas
after frequent spasm
limited life has them

I'm the deviant who hurls impurity
seeds sowed by evil erections
a door to unreality
the blemish of imperfection
a stain on the palette of life
a blue-eyed Jesus impaled with knives
a vision filtered thru brainwashed eyes
we are all beautiful beneath spurious skies
that bring tides of lies
and simple truth unrecognized

recreating ourselves along the way
what is more trivial than today
only tomorrow
or maybe a realm in absence of sorrow
minds bedazzled
ideas swirl crimson-hued
another blue-eyed Jesus to the rescue
the products of our own buffoonery
we have got no clue

in the lean hour

shadows recede
and skies darken
memories empty into scatter gardens
unable to feel of flesh
unable to come
to exist forevermore in absence of the sun

no mansion in the sky
no more reasons
no more wondering why
no more sleep
no more drugs to keep me high
I would probably sit and sigh
when you contemplate the ideal
this life is not that bad
and much more real


encompassed in brains
we are electric energy surging insane
walking a high wire between pleasure and pain
the ordinary and deranged
I am one in the same

a life so beautiful
a sky so strange
an avid listener
an oblivious ear
be certain
nothing is clear

I wish I knew not
fear
emptiness
nor despair
until I imagine a world consumed by happiness
too involved to care
deeply oblivious
unbroken stare
I would rather be anywhere but there
gripping her warm
abysmal swirls
drowning in a sea of hair

*

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