From the archives – The Balance Between Us by James Diaz

The Balance Between Us

arranged as you are
verdant and sleeping
hard rain shimmering
like veins under the skin
my metaphors are all mixed up
these days

I have this scar I can’t get rid of
you said on that long drive home
I wanted to say something
you might find comforting
but I know how these things work
you only make it worse when you think words
can dispel something like this

and the avalanche of aching
where do you put that?
in the palm of my hands
I hear myself saying

the lights of the houses in the field
seem like some kind of cruel heaven
and we out here on the road
so lost, so far from home.

from Autumn Sky Poetry DAILY, March 2, 2016 — by James Diaz

photo by Christine Klocek-Lim

Best of the Net Nominations – 2017

botncover

I am happy to announce the following poems have been nominated for the Best of the Net 2017:

Abiding Winter by Risa Denenberg

Affidavit by Terri Muuss

The Balance Between Us by James Diaz

Bone-Chilled by Martin Willitts Jr.

Poem Only Half About Myself by J. Rod Pannek

Tuesday Morning by George Longenecker

Congratulations!

There is no Safety Here by James Diaz

There is no Safety Here

this morning
in the garden
your words fell out
your mouth opened
and ran out
of things to say
light abandoned
every corner
you went hard
into the spaces
hid away
you became
another voice
in the wind
no one notices
when the snow
begins and the motels
close and none of the roads
lead home
and none of the homes
even have roads
that could take you there
this morning
you collapsed
in on yourself
and it was only the air
that felt your falling.

by James Diaz

Editor’s Note: The title’s assertion opens this poem with emphasis, while surreal imagery unbalances the reader until the ending word affirms the title’s meaning.

The Balance Between Us by James Diaz

The Balance Between Us

arranged as you are
verdant and sleeping
hard rain shimmering
like veins under the skin
my metaphors are all mixed up
these days

I have this scar I can’t get rid of
you said on that long drive home
I wanted to say something
you might find comforting
but I know how these things work
you only make it worse when you think words
can dispel something like this

and the avalanche of aching
where do you put that?
in the palm of my hands
I hear myself saying

the lights of the houses in the field
seem like some kind of cruel heaven
and we out here on the road
so lost, so far from home.

by James Diaz

Editor’s Note: The dreamy imagery of this poem feels like a long drive. The closing stanza continues the sense of lost yearning beyond the confines of the poem.