Among the Ruins

Image courtesy of Pinterest.com
Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: Tuesday, December 22, 2020 | Go Dog Go Café (godoggocafe.com)

Walk with me among the ruins

I will show you the points of interest–

Notice the weeds grown up

between the cracks of stone,

the chambers filled with mold,

the temple fallen, the altar cracked,

seeming to fold.

Imagine who may have walked here

once so long ago,

wracking havoc with fire

upon those who called this home.

The fires burning to spite

the cold winter rain.

Those who survived left

staring into winter’s

icy back eyes

in the heart of it all.

 

 

 

 

Sleeplessness

Image courtesy of Wikiart.com

Sleeplessness always told the story

Between the here and the now

The between and

What she thought a game

The tracks that led to nowhere

The last section of a living

Something not well lived

A swirl of memory

Piercing through knots

could not be undone

She had lived with no plan

With only a heart that failed

More than once

A heart she could not ever trust

A heart that spoke in religious tongues

She’d yet to understand

Its rhyme or reason for speaking

In lies and whispers,                                            

For leading her astray,

For leading her to abandon her dreams and plans,

She would never know.

This was her last act, in her last years,

To strip herself of harlequin clothes.

 

Winter Has No Cheer

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Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge—December 8, 2020 | Go Dog Go Café (godoggocafe.com)

As winter whispers

The longing starts

For warmer days

Of a warming spring

Leaking slowly

Into a sweltering summer.

As winter whispers

In pretense of knowing

Warmth and cheer

Of holidays it cannot contain

In its freezing coldness,

We are left untouched

For far too long—

Our souls grow grey

In these winter days

And leap at the hope

Contained in striking colors

Of Winter’s sunsets–

Only to have hope

Bashed, broken, bleeding

Against the frozen Winter

Ground.  As Winter whispers,

Chuckling at our fragile humanity. 

Who I am

Image courtesy of Wallpaperbetter.com

VJ’s Weekly Challenge #123: warrior – One Woman’s Quest II

I tire

Slaying demons,

Not my thing.

 

I’ve chased

Misplaced

Braced

For the reckoning

Of evil deeds.

I’ve offered up my neck

To bring utter happiness

And still—

Nothing would do

Till cutting myself in half

To dig, dig, dig deeper,

Bury the self beneath the soil–

The dirt of need, want, desire

Lay it all to rest in the infertile

Grime, the level of your rule,

To be consumed by rot

Of prayers you pretend to answer,

But you are neither God nor Goddess,

Despite all your pretentiousness.

 

In this, this turning away,

I offer up prayers

To God and Goddess that truly be,

And I do lay down the sword

I used in battle with myself:

Thus, I become the warrior

I was meant to be.

What My Dogs Teach Me

Image is my own

Vanishing in the light of dawn,
Reflection slowly fading away–
Terrified at being lost,
Horrified at never being found

Discovering there was nothing
Left to be gained–
To be had,
Nothing left to want–
Left to desire.

Only time stood in the way
Of the time when a child
knows how to play.
A time so long ago,
Really, if a child ever knew
The luxury of play
Such is the childhood
Of a child who parents the parent–
The deficit of play

So in the return of a reflection,
To fading back into skin,
Gaining a discovery
Of the need, the desire
To play, to become at times,
The child who had never been
Allowed to be.

An Afternoon of Creation

Image courtesy of NIH

Curtains drawn against the sun

Of an autumnal afternoon

Spent in another hotel,

She drowns in what

The bathroom mirror shows

Of emptiness in sapphire eyes

As her empty heartedness grows–

Her wrinkles a road map

Of crosshatched lies

Told and lived even now,

As her fingers grip

The sink edges of porcelain

Cold against her skin.

Her mind swirls,

Dizzy, lost in her creations

Of new golden plated lies.

https://godoggocafe.com/2020/11/17/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-tuesday-november-17-2020/

The Earth We Leave

Image courtesy of Dreamtime.com

A world bequeathed to us

In the breaking sounds of softness

Sighs from the weight

Of lost innocence and souls,

Mourning the loss of her lineage of love

In our desire for riches and more,

Grows weary of the heaviness of us.

 

The tonnage of our selfishness

Swirls in her oceans,

Fouls her air,

Tears apart her mantle.

 

In anger,

Her sky weeps,

Her winds whip up her seas–

All to wipe the weight of us

From her face, her body.

 

Thus, the earth we bequeath.

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/11/07/weekend-writing-prompt-182-bequeath/

Your Darkness

Image courtesy of Pinterest

Ripples of a soul

Touching mine

To feel such joy again–

 

There is nothing

Of eloquence in luck.

Only brutality

To be had

In coincidence.

Nothing of sustenance

In fate or destiny.

 

So, show me not the good side.

No best foot forward

Do I want to see.

We are damned and damaged all

From the emptiness

Of first impressions.

 

I care not to taste the beauty

Within your soul.

But I thirst for the darkness

Of all the monsters

You have hidden away.

Display for me

The ugliness of all your demons

Dazzle me with blackest diamonds shining

Within the soul of your devil’s self.

 

Then let me decide

Not by beauty dazed,

But by darkest of demon devils crazed

To know and love you

Anyway.

The Witch of Frost

Image courtesy of Pinterest (Pathfinder)

I burned The Witch of Frost,

Melted away her power,

 

So–

 

I am no longer

Bewitched by frost

In chilling climes.

 

Neither am I

 

Spellbound by lighted

Fires of fake fantastical

Promises of ghosts—

 

Nor can I hear

 

Whispering words meant

To warm you against the frost

Of lies used to charm,

Bewitching you

Into believing

Frost’s chilling, icy burn

Is desire’s fire warming.

 

 

https://amanpan.com/2020/10/26/eugis-weekly-prompt-bewitched-october-26-2020/
https://onewomansquest.org/2020/10/26/vjs-weekly-challenge-119-frost/