Writing, Poetry, Short Stories, Reviews, Art Contests
Poetry Showcase from Kendall A. Bell
All writings were previously published by Rhythm N Bones Lit & Dark MarrowBlister
The blister is the comeback,
the shrill voice on loop,
an anchor in shallow water.
Here, you follow the sound
each dying note, the death
rattle in your throat. The
blister is leaking, is the
crescendo of a converging
melody of panic, of hearts
becoming the slowest metronome.
The blister reminds you that
all pieces of you are dirty,
are damaged, that affliction
will always hold your hand.
The blister is the last sign
of passion's cessation.
How to disappear
Start deleting phone numbers backwards
to A, forget how to answer the phone.
Deactivate every social media account.
Save your voice only for singing in the
car, speak to no one at work, listen to
how many times your name comes up. (It
will be none.) Unscrew every CFL lightbulb
and donate them to Goodwill. Invest in
black curtains, for every room. Leave your
dog inside someone else's fenced in yard -
the one with big tires on the grass. Throw
your mailbox into the street. Wear a hoodie.
All the time. Never, never make eye contact.
Go for your walk, abandon your route, blend
into trees, into sidewalks and streetlights.
The constellations are fading
They are descending into
a plodding death, swallowed
by the expanse of black
that will consume each of us.
Remembrance is a shattered
bottle, carelessly littered
over forgotten country roads.
We once danced like the most
brilliant of lights, seen only
in the most remote regions-
a treasured locket that held
heartbeats and promises,
but all stars explode.
You are shucked like
an oyster, hollowed
to keep you vertical.
Doctors cup your hands,
speak softly of this
parasite you cannot see -
an intruder I cannot slay
for you. Upon waking in
a sterile, foreign bed,
you will only feel the pain
of theft, hear the soft hum
of machinery, while I wait
in a room of strangers to
see you-the only home I've
ever known, almost taken.
Trace this shooting star of sadness across my brainafter Jennifer Rouse
watch it explode in mid-flight
see the fragments become
a shower of pulp
the once beating
once overflowing heart that has now
leaving streaks of all the love
that once inhabited the fuselage
a finale unwitnessed
Bio: Kendall A. Bell's poetry has been most recently published in Crepe & Penn and Pink Plastic House. He was nominated for Sundress Publications' Best of the Net collection in 2007, 2009, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2015 and 2018. He is the author of two full length collections, "The Roads Don't Love You" (2018) and "the forced hush of quiet" (2019), and 29 chapbooks, the latest being "bloodstream". He is the publisher/editor of Maverick Duck Press and editor and founder of Chantarelle's Notebook. His chapbooks are available through Maverick Duck Press. He lives in Southern New Jersey.
David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to email@example.com.
Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof