Tag: hand

No Telling

Formidable Space makes mountains of us all.

No Telling

By Tyler Lucas Mobley 

What would our world be without

eyes to look into, what manners 

does this table set demand? Sharp,

smooth, pointy all fit in hand. 

Built by formidable space 

stubborn boundaries resist 

atomic pressure. A face to know 

when bones for an instant.

Paint the world with your problems 

cinematic projections done for undisclosed

spiritual development deals, all comes 

back to how to be in the world, no closer

truth, sweetest light lives in golden rule. 

Proud partners, see you on the other side. 

What a thing to take on, creatures formed

by night, in darkness lies the truth of light.

Phantom lives where who knows, ocean

currents our lives transposed. 

Ann Darrow

From one comes another, you know this could be Switzerland.

Ann Darrow

By Tyler Lucas Mobley

An insurmountable lift 

caught in life’s talons

feet kicking for ground

desperate for any burden

but the one you bear. 

Dragon’s back pontoon

distract time with mistress

minutes, enough to swim

the sound. Insightful clay,

a facial expression, skip

pattern my navajo peyote

a visit. Crow back in the 

gizzard gaze you’ve always

known. Our clay you say,

must be wet everyday

to fend cracks and shatter. 

Your gentle eyes owe

not a cent to your broad

back, heaving against an

Empire State, let me go

I’ll carry you forever, 

an ease of grasp, I’d 

never felt so alive. 

Pastiche a la mode

That smudge on my desk looks like a long neck dinosaur,

always the best thing to happen, if it were up to me I’d live

off your kisses alone, if I look left a rubber ducky sails on,

lost in the magic at hand, Smash Bros boss battle, quotient

A helpless passenger of pen, a journal original,

Pastiche a la mode 

By Tyler Lucas Mobley 

That smudge on my desk looks like a long neck dinosaur,

always the best thing to happen, if it were up to me I’d live

off your kisses alone, if I look left a rubber ducky sails on,

lost in the magic at hand, Smash Bros boss battle, quotient

time was off, pinned to the ass in Martha Stwerts’s jail cell, 

a frisbee golf eagle chimes, Hitler also grew a mustache on 

his back called the Rhineland, Global Warming Foo Fighters

of the Grateful Dead it says on a scrumpled note neglected next

to a trash can, turns it over, Bob Dylan was an alien? That baby 

that ruined your anniversary dinner is still crying, frigid fidgets

plum to the frosty pear, approval in the eyes, and you still made

it to work on time? the taste of honey, that dog expects the toy 

to be thrown, tried using the urinal at Walmart, but Kamala Harris

was looking me in the eyes, an exceeding first bite, glad we met,

when a couple is just having a moment, and then there was light,

like we didn’t know the darkness before.  

Draft Vector

That old be careful you might get what you ask for sorta thing. Much Love,

Draft Vector

By Tyler Lucas Mobley

Supreme ruling over mile high state, 

with arms crossed and backs firm it’s

made clear all seats are taken here, the

door that turned you away will hit you

on the way out. A fist thrown into a 

revolving door, glass shatters, gloves 

that were never on come off, chaos infects

gaining gravity pulling those who at

first never gave it any thought, are seen

decapitating neighbors with stop signs.

It’s all gotten a bit out of hand, calibrated  

subconscious, stories decades old told from

fading ink, the smoke of progress lingers

on the frontier of a new civil war, if we

choose to fight it.