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JC Crumpton
A Snack
I opened the bedroom door this morning and thought —only for a moment— that I saw milk and cookies waiting neatly for me on the landing: Sylvia? Are you there?
Reincarnation
I hear that winter cry like summer dying echoed back and forth between the hollow spaces of my mind wherein run shadows of memories hidden like some genetic recalling growing, growing further —becoming that hidden plan— until a seedling sprouts upon my forehead, taking root in the corners of consciousness like a bonsai tree of knowledge.
Now that reverberated voice has become the low hum of life moving beneath the ground until it erupts into the cacophony of birds singing, brooks laughing and wind whistling— a phoenix risen from the ashes of past dreams.
Under the Horizon
I watched yesterday as the sun gasped its last before being swallowed up by the night— it struck out with rage, lashing across the western sky with a wall of red fire, a plague of biblical reminders that burned the air with its final assault. But the inevitability of the dark triumphed in the brief battle.
This morning it had yet to marshal its strength; hidden by clouds, the sun did not reveal itself and the rains came.
JC Crumpton is a graduate of the University of Arkansas with a BA in English with a Creative Writing Emphasis. He currently lives in Northwest Arkansas with his wife and two kids, and was a stringer at the Northwest Arkansas Morning News for eight years. His poetry has appeared in Outer Darkness and in the anthology On Wings of Inspiration. His short story "It Just Ain't the Same" has appeared in the (no longer) online Alien Skin Magazine. This month, one of my poems will appear in the Fall 2010 issue of Tainted Tea. |
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Dark Lady Poetry, 2010. All Rights Reserved. ISSN 2152-8594