Tag Archives: afternoon

Postcards From Crystal River

you are the open window in an elsewhere, rustic, countryside summer

where drowsy bumblebees rest contentedly by the pollen-speckled glass

and little emerald drops of shy foliage sometimes dare to cautiously peek in

before the shooing breeze languidly billows them all out to heaven knows where

.

luminous sunshine glows ardent on tan skins and pales against cotton curtains

a curious puppy might loll its head lazily about and bark at scampering squirrels

and the sticky rose vanilla soda gives way to the thawing rivulets down my blouse

perhaps i’ll rise from my wicker chair and have a nap soon—or perhaps just five more minutes.

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vanilla iced coffee (for archer.)

haze of rosy dusk

a quick afternoon nap

dreams about cake

a yawning drowsy cat

.

deeper lilac sprawling

to flood the sky with stars

sketch in colour pencil

now to finish and restart.

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killing time

the afternoon splits

into several interludes—

a sip of watery coffee,

sudden mouthful of ice

staring at the graphite

face that no longer looks

like any human being

fidgeting; toss a chewed-up

toy past a protesting flick

of an orange striped tail

switching out playlists

genre adventuring before

a sudden flood of migraine

abruptly halts that journey

crushed biscuit crumbs

and the odd pungent smell

of ketchup that refuses to

air out and leave, somehow

pangs of anxieties caught

in between unfilled cavities

good enough? bad enough?

pretending to be properly

productive, as if there’s no

complaints nor conversation

and just radio silence from the

other end of a blinking mobile

as everyone else is busy with

living, and i’m still fazing frozen

in another dead-end afternoon.

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Solus

i miss the solitude of comfort

the breathless etudes that waltzed

around my bruised wrists and

made me think of distal vagaries—

beyond the thought of epiphany

none so vague, fallen anechoic sigh

brackish, your ocean salt, i elude

without objection, spinning starlings

and maxims that barely touched

the very tip of your aquiline outlines

nostalgia for months long passed

though, it seems centuries, impaling

my wit’s ends and ensconcing me

in linen funeral wear; wary sunshine

stains the blinds as my lungs take

a convulsive hiatus, scheming against

better company, scant afterglows

and that abstract sensation of leaving

the confines of my home after all

the stars had long burned out and the

city has long moved away from me,

from beckoning me, call my siren song

my swan song, epoch of resolution…

breathing, i miss the comfort of solitude.

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Noontime Naps

After breakfast. Lukewarm coffee. Leftover splatters of gouache on the messy desk. Slow internet connection. Haunting melodies resonating from twisted headphones. A yawning kitten resting on a restless lap.

Pauses. Outside, a chirpy radio jingle. Wooden sticks hitting against billiard balls. Idle street chatter of unfamiliar passersby, falling against the grind of tyres on concrete. Drenched in drizzling showers, a hazy town on Sunday morn.

Breathing in. It’s okay, the afternoon promises you. It’s okay.

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Ornate Messes

Don’t react when I tell you
That bright lights mean
Nothing to you
Because no one would know
The sound of a ghost
And I might be something to you
Beyond beautiful…

~*~

aching fingers

and lavender sunsets

a collection of

scrambled letters

disguised as your name

.

dusty lines scribbled

on the back of a

twice-used post-it note

in this long stretch of

afternoon torpor—

.

creaky guitar strings

played out of tune

exhausted calluses

a step in the right key

still proudly smiling,

.

two hours of strange

dreams, and excitement

before awakening;

a walk into stunning

darkness, mere glimpses

.

of moonlit epistles,

coffee after midnight

existential wishes

shooting stars dragging

out hope and lost love,

.

rekindled aspirations

blooming into memory

a song finally taken

to heart, after years of

waiting for the right time.

~*~

My darling, never rest
Until the darker gets
The best of all we had
Can the cold carry on?

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Dog Day Afternoon

After classes, for two hours and a half

Mind’s numb from static words and archaic lessons

Afternoons flourish, a lazy inner laugh

Stretch with the palm trees, kick up grass and stones

.

By the steps of humanities, a sepia snapshot

Of passersby and busy souls and stray pets that roam

Cars going nowhere, blue skies that time forgot

Weariness that dissipates, shaken off from rusted bones

.

After class, of a day’s worth and a half

Thoughts dazed with melancholy, still wandering alone

Afternoons effloresce, a warmer fullstop

Walk with the dusty sunset, I guess it’s time to go home.

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oreo (for gabe cruz)

vanilla cat

in cream-tint purrs

afternoon naps

coffee left unstirred

.

fogged haze of blue

and thoughtful gloom

static enamel sounds

and a crybaby june

.

blacktop cat

on staccato dreams

lethargic skylines

and quiet evergreen.

~*~

img_20180920_161832_296829460714.jpg

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Dry Spell

So it’s over? I didn’t realise
It’s so much colder, but it was no surprise
Did you ever get to know me?
‘Cause it has never been so plain to see
And when you say you won’t forget me
Well I can tell you that’s untrue…

~*~

Laughter, that’s all it was, plain and simple, but to me it was a taste of a thousand pink cloud summers spinning overhead the aegan firmament, all at once. Those sunshine glances melting dulcet like sugar cubes in freshly-brewed coffee and lingering softly in dusky southern winds, trailing a fragrant aroma of a verdant fruit orchard freshly blossoming in spring afternoons. Captivated ears perked up as clumsy legs tangled together in a giggling mess of auburn hair and sapphire glances, and the most quiescent sliver of blushing stardust glimmered above it all in enamoured amusement; our faraway symphonic orchestra humming about a foggy eventide streetlight dalliance, concealed under burning shadows on a shivering autumn gloom. Laughter, that’s all it was, elegant and intricate, tasting of an effulgent fireworks display of blueberry ice cream and bubblegum-stained candy floss and red velvet chocolate, all detonating and delicately fizzling out like an exquisite festival in my minty tongue. But the ephemeral seasons have come and gone like drizzling October rain, and that was my final winter’s chill. I don’t want to feel warm ever again.

~*~

And I’ve worn out all the reasons
To keep on knocking at your door
Could be the changing of the seasons
But I don’t love you anymore…

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midday

the heat is heavy

and cumbersome

and it presses down

every inch of my

slow-roasted flesh

down to my chest

into my choked lungs

now, i would inhale

but that would mean

that i’m voluntarily

letting the heat in

so i think i’m fine

holding my breath

for now, and waiting

until summer goes away.

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