Mystic Cat - Rose Jones

Rose Jones

I Cannot Decide

We've come too far,
become Body and Soul,
a tormented dichotomy of time
forward and backward locked together

The identity, a rift of between certainties
like the shore that cannot hold the tide
and collects the faith of accumulating sands.

I cannot decide.
The Body waits for death.
The Soul waits for life.

© Rose Jones

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Hollow Ann

She keeps the company of a clown
who feeds her tiny
silver balls
that twinkle like bells
smooth on her tongue.

She keeps her clown secret
like a buttoned pocket
that holds an empty lipstick case.

The paint of a mime skin thick,
his face shows her feelings
and his glass gloves produce more
little balls
that trickle from her silk.
He knows.

She promises to swallow
all that he especially gives
when her life hurts
that much.

© Rose Jones

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mute souvenir

An ear
severed from humanity
folded in brown
packaging paper

wrinkled by time, by strings.
An ear

ripped from sanity
link between jungle and ape
under wet heavy rain
both silent and deaf.

An ear

hidden in a soldier’s shaving kit
beside certified war honors

carried home
the horror of pride.

© Rose Jones