Oak Tree Requiem

No sound emitted from ivory keys
Years beneath the oaks, discarded
decades long gone, beyond charred
remnants of an old wood farmhouse

Oak branches grew inside the case
of the old upright, breaking through
hammer boards which split into
twisted forks of wooden bouquets

Lovers names are carved into the
tree trunk, looming as the marriage
registry of long dead lovers, their
songs trapped in a strangled piano

Ivory begging to be played once more
to relive the revelry of emancipation,
reviving voices that once circled it,
choruses of harmonies, arms entwined

Spirits live among its branches, family
tree encircling the harpsichord, where
silent voices live within, ivory screams
for remembrance, branches growing up

praying for remembrance.

©Brenda-Lee Ranta

 

Moonless

Unlatching her front door
she stepped into the rain;
a cold, bitter rain, that was
pinching her upturned face

She was afraid of the dark;
she was afraid of drowning
She stood outside in the night,
allowing the rain to pelt her face

Fear felt appropriate tonight,
soothingly familiar, while
her tears bled together with
rain, pooling around her feet

Puddles formed little streams,
flowing out into the culverts
where all nightmares flow
on starless, moonless nights.

©Brenda-Lee Ranta

 

 

 

See Me

See me
a woman’s face etched with a story,
it wasn’t there a year ago, each day
brings yet another crease, a visual
testament that time is having her
way with me, subtly, quietly, with
each smile, frown; with every tear
shed, every rumination, wearing
contrition publicly upon my visage

 Ephemeral are the moments that
leave their remnants upon me, never
truly lost to my body, the vehicle
I reside in; to love, to value or to
disdain- this outer synopsis of who
I am to them, that see a physicality
that camouflages a young woman,
hidden away inside in my thoughts

 See me
in my mind, I am still cashmere on
gossamer wings; longings still reside
there, alive and fervent, difficult to
relinquish; my hand still clutching
the idealisms, its life, its very breaths,
so, I hold on tightly; even now, though
I keep notes to recall things I need
to do, succumbing to fleeting thoughts

 My head upon my pillow, my hand
clutched in my lover’s hand each
night; please see past the softness
of my once firm body, please see
past the lines around my eyes,
visualize me as a young cashmere
woman with gossamer wings, who
will flit about, singing the anthems

of my fading youth.

 See me.

 ©Brenda-Lee Ranta

Hugh and I received our books today! I can’t describe what it was like to read all these amazing poems again between this cover. Congratulations to everyone who shared their work. This is so meaningful <3 Thank you for supporting the Starving Artist Fund. This amazing Anthology is available at: https://creativetalentsunleashed.com/2017/08/06/ctu-press-release-contributors-announcement-i-have-a-name-2017-anthology

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Throng – Author Brenda-Lee Ranta

An excerpt from my book..

Creative Talents Unleashed

I stood in the throng

there was a drone of voices

talking, laughing, chattering

I felt a disconnect;

unplugged from the outlet

just invisible, observing

Animated faces, gesturing,

joking; I laughed at what

had not registered, it was rote

It was familiar to be present

but not there, just absent

Lonely in a crowd, ill-fitting

I walked, I nodded, responding

vaguely, searching for words

Smiling on cue, appropriate

I questioned, epilepsy, social

anxiety, generalized anxiety?

I decided none of those fit

It would have deemed me to

have all of those for my lifetime

Settling on disengagement

Alone with my friend, in her

car, I returned: present, alive

My ability to articulate, returned

My husband would tell me

I did well, it was good for me

It was neither, it was deja vu

Crowds make me invisible

in a way I don’t comprehend

Solitary people are like that. I am…

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Without Dreams – Author Nicole Metts

An excerpt from ‘I Have a Name’

Creative Talents Unleashed

 

The sunshine’s in an endless night, allowing no sleep.

The birds do not sing.

The stars have lost their luster, without dreams.

Bodies curl and intertwine with nothing to say.

Oceans tide high, while insects swarm replacing clouds.

Flowers curl inside their selves; hiding pedals beneath their leaves.

Roots of trees climb their own branches,

As fish retreat, farther into the abyss.

All of fur and feather join the sea,

Fully masked in silk; I lay upon a bed of nails

Unable to imagine a white picket fence for counting sheep.

©  Nicole Metts

Excerpt form the book “I Have A Name”


Check out our Submissions Page for future Anthology Publishing opportunities at:

Open Submissions Page


I Have a Name

Preface  . . .  

We live in a society whereby there is an astounding increase in what is known as ‘the invisible disorders.’  We may be living with one or more of…

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