Answer What You Ask

I found the papers for which I’d searched

hidden in a back drawer.

It was the best inheritance

that I could have asked for.

The names didn't match and the date

was off by several months

from what I've been told. Realization struck,

I'd been told a lie, my birth facts they'd wish to hide.

It suddenly occurred to me, some

never found a loving home,

and then realized the magnitude

of having my own.

© Copyright 2015, Linda Imbler.  All Rights reserved.

Winter

The cold burn of arctic air, hard for skin

and nose to breath, hard to think clearly. When

did you leave? You 

exit while winter’s demolishing trespass

changes all, with icy eyes that sit in judgement of

our radio sled parade.

Tired, fatigued people, always

feeling so crushed, under

extra clothes, the constant

contemptuous parcelling of snow

so ceaseless, no wonder folks stay so confused

throughout winter, such as I do myself

plodding through memories, looking for

reasons for our split.

An ice sculpture world shaped by fingers of the wind,

chilling and numbing, bringing shivers of them within whom blood flows,

causing inadequate footing, for walks, 

for pairings

ice reconfigured

what we were, or did you do that?

© Copyright, 2016, Linda Imbler.  All Rights Reserved.

Thank you to Editor Natasha Ganes for publishing my poem in Treehouse Arts.


https://treehousearts.me/2018/12/05/the-saffron-king-new-poetry-by-linda-imbler/

Photo Courtesy of 

Treehouse Arts

The Saffron King

That ragged beggar enthroned

upon the park bench,

helmeted,

with grease-laden locks

pressed against sallow skin.

His needlework (cruel)

crewel embroidery lined up

along his veins,

his stories forgotten.

Characteristics of him

as a living creature,

excretion/locomotion/respiration,

disbelieved.

What widespread rejoicing do they publicize

when

What songs do they sing to paint the town red

when

What bets do they lay down

against this saffron king’s cessation?

He, abdicated by nature’s euthanasia.

The misunderstanding of addiction’s need to rule.

Thank you to editor mark rossi of ariel chart for publishing this poem.

http://arielchart.blogspot.com/2018/12/dark-feelings-about-daylight.html

DARK FEELINGS ABOUT DAYLIGHT

Photo courtesy of Ariel Chart

Dark Feelings About Daylight

 

For those people never charmed

by dawn-to-dark,

who pull the shutters closed.

 

These lines are written to channel a declaration.

 

It’s okay

if the taste of sunlight

is bitter for you

or if you can’t find acceptance

among the tinny voices.

 

I’m equally perplexed

about those wildly dependent

on the communion of camaraderie.

 

Like you,

I’m always leaning in the mirror

trying to comprehend why summer’s torch

is always blinding.

But I think I never will.

Thank you very much to Editor Onkar Sharma of The Literary Yard for publishing four of my poems.

https://literaryyard.com/2018/12/02/walking-alongside-my-pen-and-other-poems-by-linda-imbler/

Walking Alongside My Pen

Blue inked pen
My favorite tool.
I, writing thoughts with cool
meanings unlocked,
senseless garbling overruled.
Mood on the upswing,
old versions slipshod,
new directions taken,
my final declaration.
Best grammar roped in,
bad syntax shaken
words skip down the sidewalk
bypassing all mind blocks.
Maybe I’ll write of sin
or the blessings that have been
with me when
all through
my life I’ve done things that caused shock and
I’ve walked all lines, feet unshod.

Cathedral

Bells are ringing
around both thieves and priests.
Those bespoke to the below,
those contracted to the heavens.

Electrified guitar plays
as the carillon of a cathedral,
within this sacred theater.
The licks and strums of Old Man Rivers.

And while Wichita slow dances
and sways to the music,
we recall the discarnate push and pull
of yesteryears’s greatest songs.

Knowing that Old Man Scratch
enjoys a good riff from a Gibson,
as well as angels, thieves, and priests
and the Savior himself kept such company.

Trompe L’oeil

The Trompe L’oeil, the trick of the eye,
an optical illusion that you are mine.
The light of love turned down low.
Apparent romantic motion slow.
We’re circling,
unable to settle ourselves down.
With each other we’ve been easily fooled,
assumption of passion overruled.
There’s filled space now.
We’re processing on
within time and space,
perceiving the depth of our devotion.
Our brains predict our status quo
but our hearts will tell if it will be so.

###

Sidelining

Closing
certain doors once propped
becomes necessary,
not by one’s own
audacity
or incapacity.
It looks like these entrances,
full of remembrances,
no longer leading to, arriving at
happiness anywhere,
hollow doors,
without knobs
of solidarity,
uninviting you.

Thank you very much to Poetry Editor Janine Mercer for publishing "Gossips" in Corvus Review.

Gossips

Both inside and outside a haunted house 
the dead fear you more.
So, avoid them in dark alleys
on account that you do not startle them. 
For, I guarantee that they are there. 
They like to wander because
they are as curious as cats.
They do enjoy a good look inside windows,
especially of places where they once lived.
Would you deny them the pleasure of remembering their past?

They only want to live up to their eulogies 
of having connected
and the questions of life never cease,
even for them.

They watch closely
to see and hear what goes on around them
 for there are very few spirits without a face 
and none without ears.

They share news of what they have seen and heard. 
I have been told they are some of the most 
consummate gossips on the planet.

For this reason, beware of seances,
where the dearly departed might tell all your secrets. 
It might make for a most embarrassing day!

A new review of my latest e-book pairings.  This lady nailed the intention of the book!  I am so very humbled by this review.

The e-book is available at soma publishing.com.

Barbara S. Menninga

5.0 out of 5 starsAmazing and surprising pairing of words & thoughts

December 1, 2018

Format: Kindle EditionVerified Purchase

This book is extraordinary! Linda Imbler has paired her short stories with her poetry bringing the most unique and amazing combination of thought provoking work that I’ve read in a very long time. She invites the reader to think of things in ways he or she would not have done without her combination of words and ideas that is so unique to her. There is a great variety of topics in this book and, each time I come to the next story and poem, I’m surprised because it is always unexpected. There is inspiration and comfort within these pages and also a wonderful gentle “taking the reader outside of their comfort zone” to stretch beyond one’s everyday world. It does not disappoint and is well worthy of the reader’s time to read and re-read time and time again. This book is truly a treasure of words and ideas that only Linda Imbler can write...another gift of words and language from her brilliant mind!