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Untitled (10-10-11)

i.

The weather is passive-aggressive.

It leaves footnotes of each face

of smiling sun, darkened deterioriations

of moon — the aggression of its

weak might — elliptically revolving

around us.

 

ii.

I catch a leaf with my shoulder.

 

The wind tells me its woes

in shreds of breeze, chimed

with a reinforcing hearth

of some presence.

 

You take the leaf from my shoulder.

 

iii.

Each time we sit under the shine of light,

shadows smile alongside us; we are

parallel to its life because we are

its life.

 

iv.

Its winter lips breathe into us,

talk of the cold.

We walk among snowflakes crumbling

on our shoulders.

 

v.

There are five parts now

to the four of them —

these flights of light to dark,

shaded in rain at times,

leaving sunspots in grins

on your shoulders, towers

of shoulders.

 

vi.

Simplicity of this will make us

try to mend arguments

with our complications.

 

I touch you.

 

The unangered breeze falls

upon the touches of,

the nakeness of

shoulders paired by a kiss.

 

vii.

My friend tells me my age compliments my heart.

I am tapped on the shoulder by a light,

while death sets its shadow down

appropriately for us.

 

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A Haiku for Dan

In life you walked tall,
filled with words so inspired:
our tears aren’t enough.

RIP Dan DeRosa

http://contributor.yahoo.com/user/972578/lisa_marie_ackerly.html

http://themercurial.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=549:local-art-and-literary-magazine-publishes-second-issue&catid=14:local&Itemid=24

Gravity

Gravity
 
Remember Gravity
how she finely pressed her fingers
on the pane between us:
 
the windows, worn widows from rain
that ripped and pined
now splitters fly far
 
as we fell.

By Lisa Marie Ackerly 4/12/11

new article

Check-out my new article for the Greater Danbury publication THE MERCURIAL:

http://themercurial.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=507:a-family-pharmacy&catid=3:news&Itemid=21

(untitled)

Creases form,

folding suns in

fall.

I hear you shadow:

one flicker will

deny these lines

their creases, seriously

anxious: reaping

dark persona.

The Sun swallows time;

mammoth amounts

pass on their frost,

as this persona retells

the very it

of folding.