Death Dreams

The mind-
a dark maze
    of wispy fog
    of locked doors
the spirit portal
to another place.

A shimmer of you
appears at my side,
    in the blink
of my mind's eye-
    is it you
    or a cruel trick?

I feel your hand,
soft like a whisper.
Neck hairs prickle
and bite,
electric currents
singe the soul.

I relish your
    essence,
time drains
from the sands
as I gaze in the
ever blue
of your eyes.

Once more
we have
a tear drop's
worth of time.

I guess God
     turned his back
          for awhile.

©  K.D. Schultz

White Shirt

It hangs on the chair

Like a beacon in the night
My body lost in the ocean
Of you
I wake from restless sleep
To make sure it is still there

Calloused hands reach for me
Taking me in
I never felt such relief

© K.D. Schultz

Walls

Four of you conspire
to keep me this place
of deep scars and demons.
Marking endless souls
that come through
the gates of shame.
pocked pustule gorged holes—
inflicted by those who paid their dues
to the white robed gods of the mind,
walking pill dispensers, how I love
when you lavish little pink dolls on me.
I utter like a parrot,
so I won’t go to the second floor,
where the monster resides—
sizzling grey matter, burning embers
of those that exist no more.

© K.D. Schultz

Broken

I’m still broken inside
My sweet smile lies
So do my eyes.
But you don’t see
The deep darkness in me.
My fractured heart
The jagged shards
Will cut you deep
A thousand apologies
Fall from my lips
You devour
Every night
They don’t mean anything.
His freedom is now your consequence.

© K.D. Schultz

No More

The raindrops pool at my feet

as street lights dance
in bubbling reflections
on the paved street,
where you and I once lived.
Long ago, when you and I
were still “we.”
My tears mingle with the rain,
where one ends, the other begins
as memories flood my mind
of when we smiled all the time.
The lighted window on number 24
stares me down like an evil eye
daring me to try
to reclaim what’s mine.
I let you go so easily,
my white dress marred
by your tears—
They are still there
A reminder of my sin
of wanting freedom more
than you.
You appear to me and smile.
A soft caress on my skin—a whisper
so soft, your hands beckon me on.
I follow you down the road
to the iron gates, the monster mouth
that hold you in—
For eternity.

© K.D. Schultz

Sometimes even when you press me to the hollow of your chest, I still feel alone.

Pearls

White orbs
in my silk-lined box.

Deft fingers carefully strung
your exquisite noose.
              
I am a bird that will never fly
my wings clipped
and chained by your gold.

My cage of marble and stone
impenetrable, like your heart.

I’ll never
Fly

Away from your hands
around my little neck,
sometimes I wish for death.

I bide my time
nod and smile
to your clever lies.

One day
it will be time
to take what was mine.

One day
I yank with all my might,
such exquisite delight

as they scatter to the floor.

A hundred little taps–
I’ve never enjoyed
a sound more.

And I breathe again
once more.

© K.D. Schultz

Loneliness

blue morning light
illuminates the barren landscape
of our hearts
intertwined skeleton limbs
broken
towers of emptiness

© K.D. Schultz

Happiness?

I can’t seem to be happy.  I am always looking to the future, hoping that it will be better.  Then I find myself looking to the past with regret because I never saw or appreciated all the wonderful things that were in my life at the time.  And then there is the present, where I only see the bad.  Maybe there are things now that I’m just not seeing, that in a few years, I will look back with regret.

Sand and Water

I retreat to the house
that sits on the edge
of sand and water, where
you and I once laughed
and swam with the whales.

I still see you—a flash—
a peripheral malady—
a welcomed sickness,
desperate to be close
to the one who cupped my sorrows,
letting it drip into the unending tides
of love sublime.

The soft wind of your breath
caresses my neck,
enveloping my body,
leaving it tingling
with cosmic electricity.

You wait for me in the waters of time,
so patient for those first steps
where I sink deeper
into earth’s quicksand.

Our bodies move as one
suspended in eternal delight.
              
                         I’ve never felt anything so warm.

© K.D. Schultz

i have looked for you, as i have

i have looked for you, as i have looked for myself
and never finding either, but you call
softly to me over the blackest of night,
caressing my cheek with your song.

your silence frightens me, as the thought   
never to hear your voice, like bells
ringing to the heavens, as god smiles;
never has there been such a sound.

if i shall never hear you again, the memory
will carry me over winds of time, scattering
the ashes of my existence to the place
where you will be forever, waiting for me.

we are nothing apart, but together we are one
we are the same, connected by the fragile cord
of love, brilliant with the fire of the sun
and deeper than the darkness of the heavens.

i cannot fathom the power you hold
over me; sometimes the most extraordinary
things are not destined to be understood
they just are

© K.D. Schultz

The Mask-Maker (Il Mascherai)

I am a mascherari as ten fathers before me.

Their magic lives through my hands,

Enshrouding those I touch in mystery.

Venice sleeps under the blackest night;

The morning brings 30,000 from many lands.

I am a mascherari as ten fathers before me.

Many seek my touch, my skill, my insight,

But the choice is mine, you understand?

Enshrouding those I touch in mystery.

Jewel glass blown, leather stretched—gesso white

Gold leaf gleams with the touch of my hand

I am a mascherai as ten fathers before me.

Feathers in black and white take flight;

The bauta keeps your secrets where you stand,

Enshrouding those I touch in mystery.

Black velvet, the soft shimmer of your veil—ignites

Fire unknown, you disappear with a wave of your hand.

I am a mascherari as ten fathers before me.

Enshrouding those I touch in mystery.

© K.D. Schultz

Table Offerings

Cracked leather, safely
tucked away in the fortress
of old mahogany.

Pages crackle like kindling,
burning in the red glow
of fire and light.

Great, great mother of mine.

Delicate fingers, faded
swirls—seeped from feathers
plucked; sharpened nibs,
like an arrow in blood.

The secrets you left come to life
on the alter of creation;
amid heavy iron, ceramic bowls
in crimson and gold.

“A clove of garlic, a pinch of salt,
grind the pepper, don’t forget...”

I hear you in the gurgle: bubble, bubble...
I see you in the steam,
did I do it right?

Smooth oak handles crowned with Celtic loops:
turning, stirring, scooping
cleaver concoctions of wisdom.

Witches brew, goddess potions,
magic fare ignites, when                          
past and present collide
on the dinner table tonight.

© K.D. Schultz

The Doll

Why do you put me on this pedestal?
The metal rod hurts like hell.
My body marred with time;

empty bisque shell,

my splendor gone to the wayside.

I come from greatness: exquisite.

I am a Jumeau—his hands,

like God’s.

Memories haunt my mind

of carriages and little girls,

twirling in silks and muslin,

theirs no less than yours.

A thousand little caresses

passed on and on

to you,

Their adoration lost,
in the slow tapping
of time.
My delusions of grandeur
end now, with you.

Tears—murky water
stain my satin bows and pinafores.

I wore them with pride.

Soft, small hands
caressed my silken strands,
black as night,
now tucked away in twelve years
of dust and grime.

My eyes gleam bright
in the kaleidoscope light.
Azure blue, like yours.
Faded with time,
and respite.

I am tired of spiders,
weaving their silk tales
on me every night.

I am tired of moths,
nocturnal feasting mouths
on my brittle clothes.

My china face you awed,
I did yours every night.
The tap-tap chips away
till I am nothing,

but dust and dry bone.

© K.D. Schultz

Lost in Hemingway

Photo Source: Wikimedia

Ernest--
The Seine laps the Left Bank,
Softly penetrating deaf ears.
Clicking feet meander down
Boulevard de Montparnasse.
Do not yield to the call
The one that you heard, always
Always, in Montparnasse.

Ernest--
She looks for you down Rue Delambre.
The Dingo Bar, now a restaurant,
Obliterates memories
Of days long gone, when
Streets teemed with brilliance.
Electric air--charged
With the mind of the God.

Pen and paper like dry bones
Are reborn with flash and beeps,
Fingers clicking, devoid of inspiration.

She only wants you--
Ernest Hemingway.
Only you and only yours.

© K.D. Schultz

Ghosts of My Blood

Ghosts of my blood beckon me home,
Like ancestors, I brave gunmetal water.
Toward England's shore I've never known,
Her arms stretch out, enveloping her daughter.

How many have trespassed this tower
Of gray and stone? How many roam
The crooked streets to marvel at its wonder?
Ghosts of my blood beckon me home.

Big Ben stares into the dark night alone
I keep him company in the wee small hour,
Crossing London Bridge, stepping into the unknown
Like ancestors, I brave gunmetal water.

I breathe in the night of Westminister's power.
Starlight falls across St. Paul's dome.
Familiar stirrings fill my soul to wander
Toward England's shore I've never known.

Bestowing centuries of wisdom renowned.
The voices, long ago called to the Father.
The soul: rising, wanting, long foregone,
Her arms stretched out, enveloping her daughter.

The Thames brings life in blood and water.
England's children come back to roam
In London's dark bones and mortar.
I join them, open the mind to its tome, Ghosts of my blood.

© K.D. Schultz

Passion's Poison

The filtered light lays
across the emptiness of your side,
my hands clenched in memories
of calloused strength
caressing folds of pink.

The oak smell permeates
the satin walls-
a cage holding you in,
molecules of passion embedded
forever in me.

I languish in death dreams
of yesterday
of you.

Tomorrow is
of no consequence.

© K.D. Schultz

Movie Star

The vultures are circling
Perched to strike
Again and again.
Are you looking for a sign
Of frailty?  Of weakness?
In my skin.

They eat me whole
While smiling.
Lights flashing
Taking my soul
It tastes good,
              doesn't it?

I adjust the mask
It has to be tight
If I must survive
This business at all.

Breathing in, I see
Their mouths
Of jagged white, 
I breathe deeply

And smile, and smile, and smile

My best role is yet to come
Such lies everywhere-- no?
But fools abound.
I begin...

"I'd like to thank the Academy..."

© K.D. Schultz

I do

(Photo Source:  Dan Becker of Democrats)

the lady stands
in white, gauzy pleasure;
wrapping the world
in purity.
only for a time.

©  K.D. Schultz

Salvation in White

(Photo Source:  fahrmboy)

soft lush in twilight

caressing the marred earth

ruination by human touch

wiped clean 

each footprint disappears

so easily from memory

©  K.D. Schultz