Colleen Machut is a teacher and a writer from Sheboygan, WI. She lives there with her husband, Trent and her son, Desmond. Colleen and Trent write and perform songs in the lakeshore area of Wisconsin. Colleen has poems published or forthcoming in Open Skies Quarterly, Jalmurra, Creation and the Cosmos Anthology, Anxious Times Magazine, and CORE: Dance Poems Volume III.
The Long Way
Flame-licked eye-mirrors Leak bloodfire. Viscosity spins a scarlet spiral, Dripping clotted beads On a white gown. Pale arm sweeps chest. Steaming staircase shrouded By moist forest breath Of mossy oak. Echo. Dark billow-clouds gawk. Pointed toe shatters iridescence. Spine bristles with tingle-fear. Totter turns to tumult And she sinks into watery caverns - Final decrescendo.
Lights blare. Kaleidoscopes Decapitate you In the rocking chair. Ossified limbs, Neck acutely bent, Chest-dancing devils laugh. Stare into pinholes Until you fit through. Melt into liquid, Pinholes swallow you. Wolf awaits In highest room - Offer your arm To chew. Not even God Can wake you.
Butterfly from Ashes
We complain To numb the pain Of starless hourglass-eyes, Memorized minute-minds, And scheduled, “have to” hearts. We must embrace our own sadness, Forsake burdened antics, Remit our permission And admit our commitment To extract the metastasized plastic Of minds, Re-wish their hearts And re-star their eyes, Snap our red pens And unplan our ends, Emerge from the ash Of smoldering pretense, Chrysalis deaf, Awaiting our first tiger swallowtail breath.