extinguisher
09 August 2013
extinguisher
I wrote of love,
once
upon
a
time
extinguishes hope
in fairy tale endings.
septolet
09 August 2013
septolet
seven lines
fourteen words
written in
two parts
a septolet
doesn’t sound
too difficult.
(thanks Dominic for the new form discovery Black And Write )
urge
08 August 2013
urge
lightning smiles
as
darkness drizzles
into storm.
Drums
begin to pound.
Old rhythms,
so
strange, familiar.
I listen
as
it calls to me
but answer
not
the primal urge.
marathon
08 August 2013
marathon
all dressed up and princess-like
she went to the dance with
someone else.
too shy to ask someone else,
too proud to go alone,
I stayed outside.
I ran my angry jealousy out
on the school track
and watched through open doors.
104 laps around an 1/8 mile track,
I found that inner motivation
to keep running.
Maybe someday I’ll stop.
offended
08 August 2013
offended
Should I be offended, that up until now,
my neighbors disliked me and spoke just for show?
But now that I’m moving, they’re friendly, concerned
intent on discovering all they can learn.
it took seven years for ways to be mended,
should I be offended?
Of course it is true that it all works both ways,
but the change is so sudden, I’m simply amazed
offers to help, never once mentioned before,
I will be missed though no one’s knocked on my door.
so all along my acceptance depended,
should I be offended?
inactive
08 August 2013
inactive
recumbent exercise bike,
extremely low mileage,
but it makes an excellent clothes rack.
small, rubber band type exerciise station,
hardly stretched out at all,
but it’s a great place to sit and tie your sneakers.
mountain bike, thousands of miles,
parts upgraded and replaced twice over,
sadly, permanently retired.
hiking boots, size 10, well broken in,
I won’t be hitting the trails again,
no one wants to walk in someone else’s shoes.
no more basketball, volleyball, tennis,
or much of anything else at all really,
I am just inactive.
watching you watching me
08 August 2013
watching you watching me
I am being watched,
so I only let them see
what they want to see in my eyes.
I practice, but
I cannot fake a smile,
even though I have become
adept at hiding tears.
I write with ambiguity, hopefully,
giving hints and leaving clues
to be discovered,
red herrings too.
Still, I cannot escape the watchers,
so it’s become a game we play,
is it real, or just a part I play?
As long as it matters,
I guess I am okay.
I doubt anyone would ever see
the difference anyway.
wake up call
08 August 2013
wake up call
since 3 A.M.
four year old neighbor’s
son screams,
world-piercing, shrill
father hollers STFU at son
mother retaliates at father
father exchanges words with mother
son screams …
father …
mother …
son …
still screaming.
You wouldn’t like what I am thinking.
Purple's Platitudes 