Poems by AmberVesca

The Walker.

.. today i went to the park
... i walked there
... i brought my little black satchel
... and in it i put a deck of well beaten cards...a small...but full     sketchpad
... a banana...my stereo discman...
... and a book to read
... i checked the skies for rain...and sure enough it would rain
... today was going to be a good day
... i strode out into the brisk air
... its the kind of air that has a faint tinge of fall in it...
... at the park i came to my favorite fountain
... and there i sat...10 feet away
... admiring the way water, in its chaos, makes the most beautiful     patterns
... i held 3 or 4 conversations with imaginary alter egos...and     proceeded to read my book
... the banana came in hand two hours later when the sun came out
... my stomach had begun to feel angry
... a short while later the clouds folded their curtains back again     enclosing the sun
... i was able to remove my sunglasses and play a quite a few hands of     solitaire on the bench surface beside me
... at this time a bird flew by and perched lightly on the bench...it was     a park pigeon
... ignorant as we are of the cruel world outside
... it flew away with haste when it noticed that i was a living being
... content with my surroundings and my mood i took up my belongings     and walked aimlessly
... towards the small starbucks shop
... it is there that i enjoyed a cup and a half of coffee, for i can never     get down the last little bit
... and the most delightful crumple cake
... eager to return to my abode i set foot down the well trodden     sidewalks and crossways that lead home
... watching the denizens flit to and fro...point a...point b...and A     again...not stopping to notice that the fountain had a crack in it and     looked like it might not last the next winter
... not noticing that a stop sign was perched at an odd angle
... dangling off of a solitary screwed
... a fatal accident waiting to happen
... is the world a closely knit principal? bound by fate and controlled     by design?
... or is it chance...a circumstance that moved us one place...and is now     leaving us behind
... nobody will ever know...or fully care
... i'll just keep walking
~AmberVesca

The Memory of Cities
citadel of factitious stone crumbles below
fermenting memories shattering amidst ghosts
alike shards of glass in the morning dew
concrete strips of pavement...crumbles below
roaring metal beasts flap their wings no more
the sound stilled the fire frozen
sprawling abandonment crying
lay upon the darkened soil and lust the forgotten
rising light has smote the darkness
a ritual morning twisted nevermore
a midday moment of calm to break the pressure
all of this forsaken
thousands of miles an hour
a phone rings unheard
a phantom soul from a phantom era
dark boy cast in light
walking towards the sound
a phone rings heard
melted plastic lifted with gentle hands
static hiss overwhelm the simple minded
goodbye mother, the boy replies
shattered memories like shards of glass
a thousand miles an hour
enter new life enter new reason still the old sound
the cycle renews
and the memory of cities sinks into the silent returned

~AmberVesca

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