She, deadly beautiful,
innocent as Ophelia
He, toxic ash –
turmoil and fury
Together, love soared,
then, like a tempest
Twisted out of control,
sanity sliding, fate
so cruel, as to be
legendary, epic
Like any other teenage
Shakespearean love story.
(Written for the generous prompts of Manic Mondays 3 Way, deadly; Ragtag Community’s slide; Fandago’s, toxic; and Daily Addictions, soar. Image provided by Laura at All the Shoes I Wear.)
Timid starts beget
longevity, peace – beware
infatuation,
whose coals, burning too brightly,
blind and scald its victims.
(Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge: peace/love. Â I stretched it to a tanka.)
She is listening,
watching, her mind
absorbing –
so many images,
emotions,
lacks the filters,
the context to frame
experience into rational
understanding –
guide her with patience;
treat her kindly.
When love,
open-eyed
and uplifting
appeared
she shuddered,
withdrew,
Shame’s shadow
casting putrid
projections
fear and uncertainty
cloaked her, masked
desire as repulsion –
wore her tragedy
as identity – could not
make the leap –
would choose, instead,
a legacy of abuse –
reaffirming the guilt
and self-loathing
Never could forget
the time that love
showed up –
opened-eyed
and uplifting.
(VJ’s weekly Challenge is shadows)
Was it real,
or a dream?
Flash of brown eyes..
that smile –
just for him –
inviting…
Consumed was he
raced everyday
to that place
in the square
hoping…
to catch her…
to know her name…
something…
Tragic, really,
his inability to separate
dream from reality
How fantasy
kept him single.
(Every Thursday, Deb Whittam at Twenty Four offers a photo and quotation prompt for 50 Word Thursday. Â Drop by her site and join in.)
It’s like cycling uphill
in three lanes of traffic
in a snowstorm
trying to communicate with you
I keep peddling –
sending signals –
but you’re like the SUV
spraying slush in your wake
hindering  progress,
ignoring my needs…
Aren’t we soulmates –
in tune, hearts beating as one –
words superfluous between us?
Then why am I about to expire
and you’re just revving up?
No telepathy at work here.
Empathy lacking, too.
(Sammi Cox’s weekend challenge is telepathy in 72 words)
Was willing to settle
even before casting off
anchorless, with no compass
to guide me, no oar to steer
left fate to the currents
a vessel adrift, naïve
trusted those with power
to rescue me, unaware
of the target vulnerability
made of me, that sharks
like to circle wayward
boats, certain of a catch
no wonder, when finally
I came ashore, wrecked
I had lost faith in love,
turned hope to cynicism
had failed to register
the dangers of sailing,
into uncharted waters,
the necessity of navigational
resources, and a life jacket,
the knowledge to stay afloat
and safe, in a sea where
discernment saves hearts.
(Inspired by the image and Laura’s Manic Mondays 3 Way Prompt: wrecked)
Conscience clear,
even circumspect,
no hidden motives,
just a desire for closeness,
an intimacy only two
can share, and yet
even as you approach
I feel my waters
clouding, doubts
scurrying across
surfaces…
Even as fingers – swift
and seductive – thieved,
she moaned invitation,
ignored the warnings
so eager to please,
so hungry for love
He didn’t need a weapon –
the flash of iced blue eyes
and a throaty whisper
rendered her compliant
so eager to please,
so hungry for love
He was pro, conscience
numbed by a list of victims –
so many wasted lives,
faceless towns left behind
so eager to please,
so hungry for love
She blamed it on the passion –
the sudden confusion, misplacing
things, money – her thoughts
blinders set on a glowing future
so eager to please,
so hungry for love
Blamed herself in the aftermath,
would rather he’d used a knife,
slashed her body – violence
less shameful than this
so eager to please,
so hungry for love.
