Savage Persuasion


"Yellow-Striped Violins"

Yellow-Striped Violin

The heart rides the strings of the bow

against the silence

Cries escape from a pleasure never known

Now a torturous ecstasy

as passion is released

as passion escapes

in all directions of the soul

Slack-faced, mind driven asunder

in the sonance of a women freshly loved

A woman taken by the powerful

longing of a male presence

clinging to the life of the strings

Joy pulsating!

Veins open

Serenity resides along inner chambers

Nerves become pathways of grace

An awakening at a window

with linens so bright

they light the room.

"... reminiscing the covers of Romance Novels and Classical L.P.'s"

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

How Many Suns…

"Cones"

Jackpine

how many artists

have caught the

wind in your branches.

How many birds

maneuver

their claw-like

feet

between your sharp

needles.

How many suns

have you greeted

and raised your arms to.

How many souls

have sat with their

back against your

tough rough trunk.

Jackpine how many

lifetimes will you

see in us.  How many

rings do we have.

Pinus Banksiana

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Worn Down to Letters

No. 3 from: “The Darkroom Series”

Star Worn

She fell

and read

from the leaves

of her heart

a page

worn down to

letters.

No further help’s

been sent

to fill

the void.

She road the

palomino

to the

stars.

It soon took

the form

of a statue

so pure,

so sad,

so strong.

Tango to

life’s

melody.

“She Eyes”

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Transfusions of Mind

No . 2 from: “The Darkroom Series”

Far Away We Weep

A Scarlet Line

led to the mine.

Lives were lost

before their time.

Where did they

go

before the fall,

What was their

thought,

if any.

Too dark

too bleak

a cry beyond

the cave.

A mouth

away.

A light shone

far away.

Till then we weep.

Too soon to

go away

into,

the

undertow.

"Far Away We Weep"

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Grasp Unfaltering Ground

No. 1 from: “The Darkroom Series”

Grasp Unfaltering Ground

The sky fell back,

all was revealed,

A cake walked by,

A banana peeled.

Flying elk.

Bridges fell, All the world

had gone to hell!

Too sweet too long

Now all is gone.

Paper crying,

People lying,

Forward going

others knowing.

Stay in tune.

Sway with the moon,

don’t be deleted

until life’s work

is completed.

"Sway with the Moon"

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

“Teddy Thoughts”

No. 4 from: “The Darkroom Series”

“Teddy Thoughts”

Land mines, tears,

Too late to

crystalize the

thought.

Teddy Bears

Summer  breezes,

novels, hearts,

and flowers.

Slow nights,

the sound of trains,

level plans

and money too late

to play.  The stars

stay up at night.

Fireworks breaks

through

silent thinking.

Murmurs,

sighs & out cast

words hover in

the night.

“Teddy staying up at night”

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Dog-Leggin’ Downtown

Early downtown,

people looked like they

were hugging the warmth of

their waking hours against them.

The sidewalks held damp and

chill

from overnight rain.

The sun can’t quite

make it out.

People are all over spitting,

the latest craze since

bums spit over our clean streets

in the fifties.

It’s all ages and genders now.

I duck into a warm booth at the back of

New Town Bakery.

Orange plastic upholstery

and

a wood-alike arborite tabletop.

The plastic glass containing amber tea

is room temperature.

I have it replaced with

a hot one

to warm my hards

from the cold gloves

I’ve worn.

I play with the dome

of steamed white dough

secreting black bean paste inside.

The bill is a dollar, fifty-eight.

How is this possible.

I leave three dollars and half the

hot refill of tea.

I will not have people working

for nothing.

"Claiming Unopened Packages of Junk Food Left on Shelf in Phone Booth"

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Gas Bag

Gas Bag

Balk,

Awkward,

Sag.

Past clash,

Mad and zany,

What was want,

Sad part.

Rant,

Yap,

Harp,

Hawk.

Gas Bag,

Drab Bag,

Was

warm Mama,

Grab

many laughs,

Play act,

Sang.

Gas Bag,

Fat Bag,

Wayward

Damp

Mad.

Sad Bag.

"Par Day"

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

“Tick Clock”

Clock

Slept in

to 10:23 a.m.

Needed it.

Asa was talking to me

at 6 a.m.

I was so tired

I couldn’t respond…

And,

they,

my dreams,

were pulling me back

into them.

He wakes up,

between 4 and 6 a.m.

each morning,

to feed

his business and financial anxieties.

He lets the reins of

negativity and hopelessness

loose,

and the beast

of despair

plunges him into

conflicted mindstreams.

He hurls rocks toward

himself,

as he projects

frustration,

into his opening hours

"Asa at Nine A.M."

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

The Everyday Under His Collar

I could see exhaustion under his collar,

the wear in the skin of his briefcase,

the trudge of his leather soles,

re-soled,

re-soiled.

I remember the first thing I noticed,

was the weight of his eyelids,

and

the neglectful way he shaved along the folds

in his face,

causing sores and redness to erupt

along

the surface of his skin.

I could hear the dialogues spewing;

the sales calls,

cold calls,

warm calls,

folding over each other in a pit

near his stomach.

The failed,

the miserable,

the promises;

always of tomorrow.

The tomorrows’ building

into becoming nothing,

not-a-thing,

no thing at all.

"The Rain Must Fall"

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets