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Old Soul's Kitchen
| Open Poetry #49 |
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Old Soul's Kitchen |
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Mistletoe Angel 
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
Old Soul's Kitchen By: Noah Hibiscus Eaton 12/8/14 There's still nothing, new under the sun, you know the soul can be so lonesome, when there's no home for one's tongue, your soul moves too slow, for what today demands of you... . . ...maturing with the damage, not the years, the sky rearranges its shade, purging the talcum with tears, the ring around your brown eyes, has changed from green to blue... . . ...your soul is on fire, and burning to break free, bleeding willingly, and joyfully... . . In an old soul's kitchen, we speak loudly in silence, because what we put in our kettles, comes out into our spoons, don't mind the knobs and gauges, we'll leave marks in unlikely places, don't let another's bundle of tantrums, divert your bird's eye view... . . . Many days, all that's left is dust and bones, you stare into a glass of oban, sad to see many things go, your scars flare up, like a horsetail fall on a glacial wall... . . ...silk and velvet, can't quell a kitchen flame, but the grace of your golden heart, can never be misplaced, striding in black mesh lace, down the concert hall... . . ...you've wished, living a life that causes your soul... ...to dance inside your body, now you're burning gold... . . In an old soul's kitchen, we cook with abandon, because a clean kitchen's a sign, of a life unsealed, we get to the heart of the matter, coat fruit on the batter, and a smiling face, is half of every meal... . . . Someday, you'll build that chrysalis, in the fir trees... ...and every sunset, make lightshows, of purple shadow soliloquies... . . In an old soul's kitchen, we nod and we listen, scrapbooks are bedizened, with buttons and snowflakes, we turn to Kahlil Gibran, when we need to withdraw, whilst the seasons change, as does your lingerie... In an old soul's kitchen, we speak loudly in silence, because what we put in our kettles, comes out into our spoons, don't mind the knobs and gauges, we'll leave marks in unlikely places, and your way of life, is guided by loving truth... ...oh, your love runs as sanguine, as the ancient Blood Moon... . . . "If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other" Mother Teresa |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Love every word! Hope all is well...  M |
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