Mellifluous Malarkey
~~~
Mellifluous Malarkey
Copyright © 2015 by Pamela Loperena
All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
Names, people, places, or incidents are created from the author's imagination and creativity. Any resemblances of anything in this collection (people, places, events, businesses, or locales) are highly coincidental.
First Paperback Edition, 2015
http://www.kaleidoscopickites.wordpress.com
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Hot Air Balloon Hiraeth
Hot air balloons ride the wind's slanted creases
Along a fiery current
Set ablaze by oceans of oxygen.
Elated nostalgia,
Bears my golden roads
And landings of unknown.
I
Am
M
e
s
m
e
r
i
zed
By the weightlessness between two aerial worlds
Washed away on the upper west-coast horizon.
Portals flash open an endless polychromatic visual disarray.
Dragons shed bokeh scales across an unimaginable surface.
Colors shift swirls and designs create blushing rainbow tornadoes.
And in the gashes of the sun scar—I
Fatally
D
R
O
P
—seeking a sunrise to heighten my spirits.
So I can burst into daybreak and—S
T
O
P
—the clockwork angel from reaching seraphic solstice flight, ancient divinity & dove discus pride.
Now up, up, high, you'll see my hot air balloon fly.
Where incessant refulgence shines,
Paraglider kites will keep me alive.
Vibrant danger swoops over the clouds.
Buoyant fear condenses with me now...
Adventure awaits,
I hold tight onto its grasp.
Not wanting to let go
Of its pieces I relish
Close to my heart.
The gateway to the present seems surreal
My past and future—on opposite sides—conceal
Vigorous dynamics of human nature.
My lengthened sight distinguishes fantasy and reality.
But somewhere on the way, the illusionary images end
And I
R
E
A
L
I
Z
E
Just how B
E
A
U
T
I
F
U
Life exquisitely is.
Almost Colored
I tell myself everyday
that the very speck we live in
is losing its vivacity
due to people's vigor being destroyed
in the hands of heartbreak warfare.
Disaster divides us. It ruins our luster.
We survive beneath, the perilous thunder.
I wish salt and pepper shades wouldn't rain down upon me anymore.
I look toward the left—
A girl, my age, engages with the darkness
because she believes the charcoal will blacken her
already button eyes.
She reaches out,
grabs a dust bunny's paw,
and begins playing with its
nothingness.
Strange auras
sheathe her wicked desires.
Oddly, I can still see
treachery brewing
visibly within
a carcass stripped of incandescence.
I face near the right—
I wish salt and pepper shades wouldn't rain down upon me anymore.
A boy, my height, excites the sunshine
since he has devoted his body and soul to
be enveloped in glee.
He absorbs primrose rays,
plucks sunflower petals,
and ends his ritual
during noon.
Warm ambiance,
shelters him whole.
His complexion radiates
a coppery marigold.
However, the boy doesn't confide
with the girl residing on the left.
He claims she's anemic.
I still tell myself everyday
that the very speck we live in
is losing its vivacity
due to people's vigor being destroyed
in the hands of heartbreak warfare.
Yet, I also wake up everyday
in the very speck we live in
and hope for a better understanding
of the meaning of life and bring my
dreams, fetishes, and ideals with me,
challenging others with my spectrum
so that people can get a taste of what real dye is like and spread the love.
I wish salt and pepper shades wouldn't rain down upon me anymore.
Using my colored pencils,
I draw the speckled universe
illuminated in all its glory.
But I can't sketch the sun
in our solar system,
because my yellow pencil is somehow missing...
It's the last speck;
the brightest speck....
Then someone's hand places a yellow pencil in mine.
It's the boy from my right,
grinning boldly at me
For siding with the light.
So for now, I'll let summer and spring
paint my almost colored tears
a brand new season.
Because I've learned to embrace faith and love
—Not treason.
