Petals of the Dead

Image courtesy of Pinterest
https://freeverserevolution.wordpress.com/2020/09/14/september-writing-prompt-3-2/

I tossed them away

Some time ago–

Petals of the dead.

Some flowers taken

From above the six-foot holes

I have stood over,

Frozen in the emptiness

Of an empty hole

About to be filled.

Some flowers taken

From birthday and anniversary

Bouquets of celebration,

Marking years of bitter happiness.

Most flowers taken

From a wedding bouquet

Of vows taken, kept,

A reminder of vows abandoned.

 

Petals of the dead kept

Out of wretched sentimentalism

I burned upon the pyre

With myself.

Then climbed a new self

Of burnished bronze

From the flames.

 

Rectify Lines of Your Face

Image courtesy of theblot.com
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/09/12/weekend-writing-prompt-174-rectify/

The wrinkles of cotton shirts,

crease the jeans,

the edges of t-shirts you steam.

Stiffness of heavy starch

helps you remember every lie

through the years.

You fear softness

would wrinkle the fabric

Of memory.

 

We Didn’t Care

Image courtesy of VectorStock

Dreams came,

Dancing for a time

While arrogance grew.

We were better, best–

With nothing left to prove

Glorious above any others–

God’s chosen led by the chosen one,

Or so they claimed  

While people died in the streets.

We turned our fingers orange with Cheeto dust,

Stuffing our mouths,

And didn’t care who died.

It was all for our entertainment, anyway.

We watched democracy die

With Lady Liberty and Justice

Beaten bloody in the streets.

But hey, Walmart had toilet paper and Doritos–

And that’s what really mattered.

We screamed about white, black, blue

Red, and all the rainbow colors

Until our screams and colors bled

Into midnight blackness

Then the lights went out

When God’s Grace got up and left.

No Disaster

Image courtesy of Shutterstock.com
https://godoggocafe.com/2020/09/08/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-tuesday-september-8-2020/
 

As if I’d eaten some ancient grain

Meant for those of a long dead warrior hearted strain

I strengthen myself with tears. 

 

Over the bare years

Only you knew innocence

Truth, ruin in seas–

 

Imagined decades

No time for flowers and aches

Realize in drifting

 

Down years– no disaster

Were you in the end,

We were just a moment.

A Time of Transition

Image courtesy of Mark Carthy/Shutterstock

https://amanpan.com/2020/08/24/eugis-weekly-prompt-transition-august-24-2020/

 

Sing softly to me

Among the verdant trees

Of our youthful revelry,

Where memory sins

With aging fire,

Lightning to a soul’s dark soil,

Giving fire life within

As your song soothes

An aging heart.

 

In the Secret Place

Image courtesy of Sue Vincent
https://scvincent.com/2020/08/27/thursday-photo-prompt-tokens-writephoto/

I hid them carefully,

The tokens left

In the forest keep

Of dreams sheltered

Far too long from mists,

Giving life to forms

Shifting in shadows

Where once we danced,

Loving for a time

Among the trees

Leaning to hide us

From those

Wishing us harm.

Then I woke.

Human once more.

Meditations on Forgiveness

Image courtesy of Pinterest

summer hot, humid

kills desire of sweetness

flowers forgiveness

 

falls decaying death

forgiveness dead leaves lifeless

blacken a gift heart

 

winter freezing ice

a cold weapon forgiveness

to cut the giver

 

spring new life begins

forgiveness lifeless, no seed

to plant, grow—never

 

The bird of flame rises

From the ashes in my chest—

Ash of forgiveness

Never given.

 

Thoughts on a Stone Fairy

Photo from social media attributed to Jean-Michel Bihorel

I started to write this one when I first saw this photo on Facebook.  I did some research to find the true name of the mountain and then wrote down a few lines. Then I saw Eugenia’s weekly prompt was “fairy” and things took off from there.

UPDATE– However, the fact checkers did not have all the facts when I checked, and it seems I was duped.  Fact checkers I used (and I used several) only had the name of the mountain as being incorrect, and they all agreed that this was a drone image.  However, it seems they have been updated and the image is really the digital work of an artist named Jean-Michel Bihorel.  Thank you to Susi Blocks who brought this to my attention.  I may remove the post entirely but I will take a minute to think about that.

https://amanpan.com/2020/08/10/eugis-weekly-word-prompt-fairy-august-10-2020/

She rests now,

              Snowbound,

              ‘Sleeping,

Some giant stone fairy of another land,

Another time, when fantastic creatures

Walked with us.

There is in me

Awe, admiration of her peace—

Thinking wistfully of what if’s—

Had I been born a giantess of stone

Or one with fairy blood of snow—

I could have loved her,

              Curled behind her,

              Spooned for centuries.

              No one to care,

              Know,

              Disturb the peace

              We shared—

              Till seen from above

              By a modern drone—

Then perhaps humanity might again know

Fantastical creatures once roamed,

Possessing magic.

But I am no fantastic being.

Possessing no magic,

I am no match for a mythic wonder.

My blood, without a drop of the fairy kind,

Destine for warmer, ordinary climes.

Lessons in Listening

image courtesy of Dreamtime.com

 

https://onewomansquest.org/2020/08/03/vjs-weekly-challenge-107-listen/

My lessons in listening:
To a mother’s final words—
Always remember I loved you and was proud
Tossed off, too rushed to leave work
To get to the hospital, to see her,
Always thinking of more days, time.
Not thinking all I’d see,
Her dead eyes.

To all my dogs– little tells
Of cocked heads, whines, barks,
The ways of wagging tails,
To know what meant what–
Hunger, pain, desire to play,
A need for love or to go outside.
Those I’ve always learned well.

To students, the teens I taught,
A puzzle to figure of pieces and placement
What each meant for each—
The lift of a shoulder, how the eyes met or did not meet mine,
The head upon the desk, the work done or not,
The things said, not said—
To figure needs-
Some basic, some not so,
Requiring other safety nets,
Bruised and broken,
Some I could help repair.
I knew what to listen for,
Almost by instinct,
Since I had not been listened to
When I was one of them.

To my child, a whirlwind of cries,
Hunger, diaper, cold, hot, sick—
Each cry different
A knowing, animal instinct,
Some primal thing beating
Inside knew the way
Of my infant’s need.
When a teen—
A different thing,
A new species of need,
My animal and her animal
Had no common language
Of smells, signals, or cries
In the darkened tunnels
We went through.

To my dying wife, my dying wife—
So hard to listen to, to understand
a language no longer including
My daughter or me.
Never knowing for whom
The last coma spoken words–
I’m sorry, so sorry—
Were spoken.

Now, I learn the final lesson of listening,
A lesson sixty years in the learning, 

To myself, my own heart, my own soul.

Of Need and Desire

Image courtesy of Sue Vincent
https://scvincent.com/2020/08/06/thursday-photo-prompt-fantasy-writephoto/

So very willingly,

I placed my head into danger’s toothy mouth

When I climbed the Pilgrim’s stairs–

Until dizzy from the height,  

And the steepness of the effort–

All done to look upon

A pure crystalline blue sky

Caressing a sapphire sea—

A fantasy of need.