Fiction and Poetry

Azure- a poem

Breeze balm, skies azure

distance, fragrance, wind

Secrets swallowed

the reef

swim in liquid nostalgiaphoto

Fiction and Poetry

Friday at Little Cupcake Bakeshop

Whisper quiet the city
Sky powdery gray
A cotton muffler
enwraps the day

Dims the roar
a hush through the leaves
a flock of blackbirds
water dripping from eaves

So lovely the morn
beautifully bright
under my boots
cruncy and light

Fiction and Poetry

On The Shores of Eternity

Sitting in High Dive
5:15 on a Saturday
A carbonated meditation
To replay the week

trial and error
feeling in the dark
tapping along quietly
straining for the ping back
tunnel of my vision

Sweet action
amber courage
a liquid confidence arises
and a murmur of the soul

Through the charity of our fathers
German brewmasters of note
We achieve a measure of equality
a sense of clarity
a touching of reality

A negation of the feelings
a nail sticking out
to be pounded down

An oddball diamond
waiting to be found
glinting and shiny
On the shores of eternity

Fiction and Poetry

My Lovely 88

She is dark-skinned and lonely
White toothed with smudgy blacks too
and oh so hungry
oh so hungry

A gift from strangers
left at our door
4 of us huffing
on Christmas morn
To raise her three flights of stairs
Three flights of stairs

“Just wood and screws,
strings and nails?”
my son peers inside
Seeking the source of the sounds
Source of the sounds

We polish her skin
blow out the dust
And then the doctor walks in
His black bag at his side

After much pulling,
poking, pushing and a groan
A great rumble has transformed
into sweet, sweet song
sweet, sweet song

She is hot
lively and bouncing
jovial and bumping
thumping to the stomp of our feet

She is graceful
dignified and stately
refined and flowing
loosing her melodies now

The doctor is paid
and she seems better
no longer so hungry
my happy 88

She is dark-skinned and lovely
her white teeth are shining
her ebony gleams
and oh how lovely
oh how lovely my lovely 88

– by Andrew Ingkavet ©2011

Fiction and Poetry

Headphones – a poem

Whispers in the dark
Secrets to me
The control of my soul
Deeply reveal me

Flowers in the canals
My ear buds tingle
Tickle and whisper
A murmur that quells
A rush, a crescendo
A voluminous swell
Gives rise to an army
A tolling of bells

– by Andrew Ingkavet