TWO POEMS – Jackie Holiday and Devlin

Posted: September 3, 2011 in Fiction, Flash
Tags: , , ,

Mirrored Blues


This passion of mine

hungers for the strange

and the unknown

I don’t know why

I do the things I do, baby

maybe because I love you?


It can’t be, it couldn’t be

that would be too cliché

as in an abstract from the truth

that bares down on this fruit of ours.


I stare past the mirror

of everyday red painted lips

to the mirror behind me

looking at the past reflecting

in the present to the mirror

before me-a mirror

that bares no future of us.


I must confess this to you, baby

but somewhere in this ill fated house

Billie Holiday croons “Strange Fruit”-

a symbol of our ripened to unperfection



you understand, I always understood;


we separate

with only a pocket mirror dividing us.




Her voice was sultry

and carried sensually high

beneath the muddled lounge

of singers dead within

untriumphed souls

men stressed in timeless fedoras

conversing amongst

Cubans and booze

hearts coagulating

to the blues of misfortunes


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