Saturday 30 September 2023

Five Poems by Louis Efron


Writers Eulogy


another day breaks through spent hourglasses

on painted wooden windowsills

warming settling sand

as writers labour to create anew


rooms measure time in syllables

emotions pool around us in ink

white space ignites blue then orange

                              a poetic inferno departing in drifting ash


blistering paper slowly curls from aging walls

giving new breath to hidden veneers

dusty tales sealed in glue, crack 

like thick makeup on an old face 


faux leather chairs, grand desks of pine

overlaid with shallow oak

          tarnished gold-plated trinkets adorn corniced shelves

                    with forgotten fiction and others’ truths


a space where everything is briefly real

and past narratives

bookmark time

in bright, but empty rooms


Arcadian Eyes

dark eyes reflect smokey flashes

          from deafening staccato machine guns

                    fixed on three-dimensional flat screens


fingers scurry over wireless consoles

          like spider legs attempting to evade death

                    from hunched lumbering gamers


a binary coded world

                    never burning

                              but always on fire

forcing sweat to boil from our pores

to cool tranced, agitated monsters


thick layers of masked decay

melt from our lit faces

                    like wax partitions between

                              real, fake




in this crowded metaverse

          where all has been equalled

          and corrected

                                        we are lonely 


a world that can no longer be unplugged

where soft hands without heartbeats join

then pass through 

to emptiness



God’s Garden


where her tears slip and settle

wide-opened daisies are born


shades of powdery pink and white

          bowed angelic fingers

lifting up beaded golden saucers 


light breezes sweep weeping petals 

broken pinwheels

seed imperfect copies

as tears wilt with everything


soft wings brittle

scatter like dandelions

across unsettled fields

in heavy gales 


discarded vessels droop




a wasteland wholly stripped of faith


a grief deeply

dampens her earth

inspiring all that may one day


again be beautiful 



Short Circuit 


Like buttery oil


Spilling through streams of crystal-clear water


energy infuses

                              new life

                              desperate to stay afloat

In unyielding currents

          competing for space

                    in flesh



                              never balanced


We flow





Peering through syrupy membranes


for charged branches

                                        in stormy heavens




                    crooked cords


Allowing us to leap 

          To the next seeded womb

and live again



Rooms without Nightlights


Sparring with moonlight

prying through shutter gaps

                    menacing figures

cut from a cloth

of night’s deep sky

haunt the walls of our youngsters’ rooms

                    compelling little feet to rush through 

adrenaline filled corridors 

                              to escape 

cracked basement doors

                     leaving lonely spaces 

with ruffled sheets

to tend to their own ghosts


Now safe in the arms of loving guardians

          nestled heads

with tousled hair

          gently sleep

beneath stuffed beasts


But imagination tempers with age

and villainous allies

crawling out from

between the covers


of twisted fairytales

swap darkened spaces

for inviting masks

fooled only by our children

framed on forbidden trading cards

in palmed devices


At the threshold of French-vanilla taffy wallpapered hallways

like strained umbilical cords

          leading to once unlocked doors 

                    we are desperate, discarded sherpas

in the thick of some impossible trek

lying awake on stone-like mattresses 

                    grasping unread bedtime stories 

with stressed spines

                    as sunlight fills our now adolescents’ chambers


In rooms without nightlights 

Louis Efron is a writer and poet who has been featured in Forbes, Huffington Post, Chicago TribuneThe Deronda ReviewYoung Ravens Literary Review, The Ravens Perch, POETiCA REViEWThe Orchards Poetry JournalAcademy of the Heart and MindLiterary Yard, New Reader Magazine and over 100 other national and global publications. He is also the author of five books, including The Unempty Spaces Between, How to Find a Job, Career and Life You Love; Purpose Meets Execution; Beyond the Ink; as well as the children’s book What Kind of Bee Can I Be?

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