Image result for suburbs painting

*image found HERE


What when the name of your heart
rests like slaughtered light
beneath the chins of crones at cocktail parties
and the clouds circle unevenly
around roofs
like spilled champagne;

How do they call
a thousand crickets
meeting a palm?

What when hoarded spirits
become chandeliers
and learn all the words
the way the sea would say it,
the way the woods would say it;

How do they call
when a hum
makes you hold your breath?

There where you caught the mother deer
telling its offspring
not to pause for the shimmer
but be ready to run
as soon as all headlights
storm towards the horizon;
there where you were told that sunsets
are drain-pumps for lipstick,
to scream softly
and dream while sitting down
and your body was a train station
for the trains you never got to
touch or taste
and were not allowed to say
you still
enjoyed the view.

How do they call the birds
who leave and return
and leave but return
without ever taking a single feather
with them?

Where you
hear a song and drown
and dial numbers where you know
nobody will pick up
if he picks up
he will ask you where you are.

How do they call this place?

Two elderly ladies, they climb aboard the local bus.
Their hats of silk, their pearls expensive
and their shoes tip-top
to settle the weight
of handwoven blouses and skirts
they picked out at the mall.
Ages on their lips are puckered
as they dissect the slowly moving
window view
skipping around
the thousand jealous little rays of sun
dipping their nipples
in the swimming pool
and completely unaware of you
they brand the field with their leaving;
do you know how they call it?
They call it
“Heavy Neverland”.

~ by Oloriel on September 25, 2019.

9 Responses to “Overheard”

  1. Посебно ми се допада меланхолија којом су прожети твоји стихови. 😉

  2. Fabulous!

  3. LIKE!!!!! Hvala for writing it. It paints great pictures.

  4. “There where you caught the mother deer
    telling its offspring
    not to pause for the shimmer”

    I’ve always loved the way you write, what you write and how you make such words that would otherwise just as easily be mundane, read, sound and feel so subtly beautiful. and you always do.
    Cheers to all your work. Btw, I copied that part here cause that absolutely shook me.

Tell me something

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

The Inner Wilderness

Plato had amazing insight into the question of finding the unknown. "How will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?" he wondered. The deep inner space within yourself, the inner wilderness within you asks for you to explore it, and in the process discover yourself. What better way to do that than through writing? This space is a personal blog for your reading, and my writing adventure. Go through the blog that follows to, perhaps, discover something as well.

songs for now

nrk 💜 they write things 


Everyone is welcome


"Ja - to je neko drugi."

Poems by Mandy

Sad Poetry by Mandy Williams...

International Journal of Research (IJR)

IJR Journal is Multidisciplinary, high impact and indexed journal for research publication. IJR is a monthly journal for research publication.


mapping the nest

Goose FM

Little pieces on the weird, Music, the great outdoors, and TV. Known as Lucy Wallis in some circles, and Goose in others.

Amethyst Review

New Writing Engaging with the Sacred

Anatolios Magazine

[ love letters to the light ]

Countdown To Classic

A World of Warcraft: Classic Podcast & Community

Chain of Arts

Travel. Art. Music.

The Wedding of Ken and Sarah

Coming to you August 17th, 2019 via the Wonders of the Internet!

Robert Hilles

Poet and Novelist

Bruised Rose Blossoms

Poet. Starscraper. Song whisperer. Niño de las estrellas.

Pointless Overthinking

Understanding ourselves and the world we live in.



%d bloggers like this: