Category: writing

Heart Bleeding

Even lamplight cannot penetrate
the obliteration of blizzard white –
the icy absence between us.

Red was the colour of our passion,
now red is the colour of this box
words spoken in confinement

condensation blurring sensibility –
the muffled sound of ringing,
too cold, too frozen in disbelief

to hang up,
move on,
seek warmth.

(Inspired by the image supplied by Willow Poetry for her weekly challenge: What Do You See?)

Naughty or Nice

Naughty thrilled her –
lacked inhibitions toward elicit,
tantalized by promised ‘nice’

Imagined blood red petals
strewn atop steamy suds,
champagne flutes and
intoxicating entanglements.

Fantasies never ran to
infested walls crumbling
in barren captivity –

his version of naughty
turned her blood to ice
nothing about the scenario ‘nice’.

(Tonight is the last Open Link night at the dVerse pub for 2018, hosted by Grace.  I am submitted this poem, inspired by the prompts of Manic Mondays 3 Way Prompt, and Twenty Four’s 50 word Thursday.  Image provided by Deb Whittam of Twenty Four.)

Absence

Slippers, perched at night stand,
twitching impatiently,
mark the absence of feet,
cannot appreciate the meaning
of unruffled bed covers.

Abandoned, a coffee mug
bemoans its curdling contents,
complains of thick brown lines
contaminating its porcelain shine,
has not noted absence of hands.

Chair, pushed back from desk,
in partial rotation, sits awkwardly,
commanding attention, disturbed
by its misalignment, has not thought
to ponder absence of body.

House, uncomfortable with silence
creaks unnaturally, loudly voicing
objections to the absence of footfalls,
automated machinery and incessant
rings, beeps, and chimes of technology.

I try to reassure them that the absence
is only temporary, that the man whose
presence so strikingly fills this space
will return,  hope they cannot read
the apprehension in my tremulous heart.

(Gina is hosting at dVerse Pub tonight and challenges us to consider the magic in ordinary things.  When my husband had a heart attack a few years back,  I noticed how everything took on new meaning while he was gone.  It inspired this poem.)

Meet You At The Station

Alternate realities
parallel linear logic –

Non-ego driven forays into
magical mysteries –
answers not supplied –

Float in orgasmic,
ethereal landscapes –
kaleidoscopic colours
unseen by cloistered eyes

Behold irrationality –
a mad whirlwind of all-time
convening into a single moment

The portal’s open,
step aboard;
make sure your ticket
is round-trip.

(Submitted for Twenty Four’s 50 Word Thursday challenge.  Image supplied by Deb W.)

Waiting On the Storm

The air hangs heavy and yet I shiver,
threat of rain clouds the forlorn sky;
high above the palm leaves quiver,
the air hangs heavy and yet I shiver
even birdsong has become a wither
Nature’s wrath seldom a passing sigh;
the air hangs heavy and yet I shiver,
threat of rain clouds the forlorn sky.

(An attempt at a triolet for Jilly who is hosting the dVerse pub tonight.)

A Recipe for Wonder

Trust, as if
trust is not an issue

Let curiosity lead –
hunger for learning

See the world as undefined –
focus soft.

(Amaya is hosting in the dVerse pub tonight, encouraging us think about “the secret ingredient”.  I am also linking this poem to Willow Poetry’s: What Do You See?  Image provided by Willow Poetry.)

HoHoHo, What?

A snowy-bearded man in
a uniform of red, says
HOHOHO
sets our wheels spinning –
suddenly behavior counts,
and calories don’t, and mistletoe –
well you know…

Does not anyone else find it odd that
a marketing construct is our ambassador
for good cheer?

(A quadrille written for dVerse where the focus is on cheer.  Also linking up to Ragtag Community’s : uniform.  No Santa Clauses were harmed in the making of this poem, nor does the author claim to be totally humbug.  Artwork is an original.  Cheers all!)