Black Petals Issue #74 Winter, 2016

Cemetery Haze
Home
Mars-News, Views and Commentary
Beyond the Stars-Fiction by Brian McLelland
Doesn't Play Well with Others-Fiction by Roy Dorman
Killkenny Man-Fiction by Charles C. Cole
The Family F.-Fiction by George C. Economou
Masks of Innocence-Fiction by Dr. Mel Waldman
Trim Thought-Fiction by Chris Moylan
When the Sea Shall Give Up Her Dead-Fiction by A. M. Stickel, Editor
Anticipating Miracles- 3 Poems by Teresa Ann Frazee
Cemetery Haze-3 poems by Michael Keshigian
Seven Horror Haiku-by Denny E. Marshall
Four Zombie Haiku-by Denny E. Marshall
Love Letter (to L. W.)-Poem by Reyhan Qayoom

Poems by Michael Keshigian

Cemetery Haze

 

Michael Keshigian

 

Granite slabs

litter the enclosed landscape

which silently screams syllables

of those buried

beneath the sedentary soil

of eternal repose,

as, through cavities full

of engorged, insatiable insects,

imperceptible vapors

of deteriorating brain waves

escape their porous tomb

to fog the horizon

with evaporating memories.

 



Eternal Exile

 

Michael Keshigian

 

Wretched, woeful,

and trapped in terror,

here, there, or somewhere

at a point in timelessness

with no direction—

upward to heaven

or headlong toward hell—

confused and unable to feel

a thing, but fear,

eyes open or shut, awake,

though it feels like sleep.

Nothing reacts; arms, legs,

and functions are listless,

except for thoughts,

a spinning frenzy of memories

with lovers, friends, enemies,

crimes and passions,

reminders of life’s avenues

and indiscretions.

There are no sights or sounds,

just total darkness,

yet I hope and pray

for a glimmer of light to guide me

through this free-fall to nowhere.

Is this death? Have I passed?

Will I float as a mass

of self-contained energy

with tortured thoughts

through this endless night

after the final breath,

in exiled eternal exodus of loneliness,

to reckon with the sins of living?

 



Present Comfort

 

Michael Keshigian

 

He stands in the open doorway,

a brisk breeze caressing his face.

There is a shadow cast

from a dried maple branch

of straight lines

dyed black upon the lawn

that resembles a stick man,

an apparition that points up

as if to designate its source.

He imagines himself the outline

penciled atop the green,

where the grass is cool and moist

as it brushes his skin,

where ants and earthworms

tickle his underside

when they course beneath.

The landscape is quiet otherwise.

He is content.

Vagrant clouds, like the years,

move rapidly over him,

close enough to the sun

to threaten and momentarily

dissipate his imprint.

There is nothing he might do

to stem the inevitable,

but distract himself

with the magic about,

for the future is black,

the present, light,

though it will yield no notice

when it dissolves him.

 

Michael Keshigian, ekimmk@aol.com, wrote the BP #74 poems, “Cemetery Haze,” “Eternal Exile,” and “Present Comfort.” His tenth poetry collection, Beyond, was released May, 2015 by Black Poppy. He has been widely published in numerous national and international journals, most recently including California Quarterly, Poesy, and The Chiron Review, and has appeared as feature writer in over a dozen publications with 5 Pushcart Prize and 2 Best Of The Net nominations. (michaelkeshigian.com).

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