Ambrosia Response to Frost An Irrelevant Fear

Ambrosia

KYLE HILSEY

As the crimson light beckons the moon, it peers between lax branches atop my canopy. Listening to suburban pilgrims journeying with no mark nor destination, Entering their life’s monologue for but a moment to gain wisdom of the world around. The sun’s kiss greets me in a somber wave of utter ecstasy. No means of discontent or worries take a seat upon the table. Alone but no woeful words await upon the inkwell. This pen shall converse with delight and pleasure. Memories of lost loves or regret will not breach the vaporous barricade. Yearning exclaims of sorrow dissipate through tranquil smog. Fruitful fumes engulf this cocoon serenaded to the sounds of mockingbirds. Entranced by the prism of my glass counterpart, He fills me once again with tasteful conversation that cannot be heard, only savored with sighs of utter contentment. Dialogue is one of thought, only interrupted by passerby’s exclamations. Through the clouds, words of Coleridge overtake me and dream of the wondrous Xanadu. Is this the entrance to pierce the smoke-covered veil? To slip into the romantic chasm and drink the milk of paradise.

Kyle Hilsey is a poet and playwright from Delaware County, PA. With his previous works appearing in Inkwell Magazine, Two Sentence Horror Stories, Digital Dealer Conference, and The Tri-State Theatre Festival. He hides his love of poetry behind skull tattoos and pinups, and appreciates the written word for masking his “delco” accent. He is currently in the works of completing his first chapbook, “Written Jukebox”.

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ursula1964

Response to Frost

KYLE HILSEY

As the path continues on through the twists and bends, we call life,

Searching on past the stops and delays that prevent momentum.

Following no destination just the hopes of the one instantaneous moment that it may intersect, With the beautiful merge praying that the path shall widen and journey on in harmony.

They find themselves miles ahead feeling that a stronger bond will arrive with an addition, As the path widens, they yield off to take new roles as providers and nurturers, Focusing all concern on their new partner in this journey.

As the path strides ahead, the young road begins to part ways, In its own search for crossroads.

Now that the two roles have finished, they find themselves once again Separated.

Uncertainty,

The path they once formed has been cracked and weathered by the stages of life

Is it easier to follow separate paths?

Could this broken road be saved by the love they once had or have the damages to this path been too much?

Will their bond ever be the same?

Do they even wish to journey on or even care of what they once had?

Is the real road less traveled the one that leads back to this loving crossroad?

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An Irrelevant Fear

KYLE HILSEY

I have to be honest with myself, I am afraid of comedians No, this isn’t some bullshit phobia. Fear derives from understanding and relating. Audiences can’t connect. Only seeing shallow hilarity, But when the laughter ends being met with shock and sympathy. That’s where it rings true for me. It can be hard for people to understand, Tragedy and comedy are two faces of the same mask. Weighted thoughts of sadness become a siren’s call Too irresistible to resist. We fear showing that side to isolate us even more. Let’s be honest sad sacks are never the life of the party. So, we resort keeping the upbeat and hysterical façade. For a fleeting moment this masks the muffled Cries of that all too familiar serenade. Yet as my kin succumb to the beckons Feels we are playing a stacked game Where no one has footing to become Atlas. Sympathy and empathy are a fool’s solution, But everyone offers it as a last resort. I need to find a way to deafen the maestro, Or I fear I shall too take my final bow with this reprise.