Lessons

Dia de los muertos..makeup by June courtesy of Pintrest.com

This is the lesson of you,

Oh, the things you do teach–

Wearing your blue mantle

Lined in blackness

With your crooked fingers

Tipped in painted red do you reach

Ripping out hearts

Adding to a collection

You keep in a box.

 

Until the day of the dead,

When you light your fake fires

And scented candles,

Spread your blanket

For the time to admire

All hearts in the box of your collection,

Chant your incantations and prayers

To La Muerte for protection

From the evil you spread

And La Llorona for aid

Searching for the newest victim

From whom your red tipped claws long to rip a heart.

 

Washing the World

Image falling into the rain by Moonlight-Rainstorm on Deviant Art
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/05/23/weekend-writing-prompt-158-downpour/
Use the word downpour and create a poem or prose piece in exactly 88 words.  

 

It does begin with whispers of wind,

Steady, slow rhythm of fattened rain drops.

The distant rumbles begin.

Then the slight, quick flashing starts.

Soon the wind howls.

The rain beats as if a beast

Against the windows.

The rumbles, the shouting of an angry God

At the petulant child of a world.

The flashing, the cracking whip

Of our forgotten master.

The downpour is here,

The sobbing of the forgotten,

The hated, the poor,

The ones we were to love.

No ark on this horizon is seen.

The Spider’s Life

Image from Sue Vincent Thursday Photo Prompt

https://scvincent.com/2020/05/21/thursday-photo-prompt-painted-writephoto/

This week’s prompt ~ Painted

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a rather oriental red bridge over a  pool covered with waterlilies and surrounded by trees.

She lived a painted life.

Careful with her brushes

Always touching up

A chip, a mark, a ragged flaw

As she found them.

If she found a rip or tear

In the precious canvas,

It just would not do,

But she would oh, so carefully

Apply the much-needed glue.

No.  Not a single person could tell.

Not a single person knew.

 

No one knew the time

And care and money

She spent on this

Carefully painted life–

Of verdant grasses,

Irises of every shade

Deepest purples

To palest pinks,

The lush canna lilies,

Fragrant gardenias and lilacs,

The splendor of magnolias,

The stately cedars.

 

Everyone speaks of a gentle stateliness,

In the air of her personal dress,

Her blonde locks, and her wounded blue eyes

As they looked out

Upon the careful paint of her garden lair,

A spider inspecting her web.

But her victims knew

Of every rip and tear

And all the rot beneath the paint.

For her victims lay silent, faint

Cocooned beneath

Many coats of paint.

 

Letting Go

Image from pixels.com
Written in response to:

Eugi’s Weekly Prompt “Cherish” – May 18, 2020

Standing at the edge of the sea,

Waiting for the colors of the day

To peek out from the blackness

Of yesterday’s day,

For the moment of breath,

I remember all of us.

Orange and pink begin the chase.

Midnight crawls away.                                                          

Time to walk along this sand,

Feel a weighty slide of cold, wet grit

Between my toes,

Lift my face to the sun,

Warming, cherishing

What now I gain

In the letting go

Of all the stones

Along this way.

Don’t

Written in response to:
https://godoggocafe.com/2020/05/19/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-may-19-2020/

Don’t.  Don’t tell me to pray.

For years, I have every day.

All that I am I’ve offered as a prayer.

Every breath.  Every bite of food.

Every step.  Counting pennies,

Dollars.  It’s all the same.

I’ve whispered, I’ve mumbled,

I’ve chanted, I’ve silently said

All my prayers for you, for myself,

For my dog, for my daughter,

For my grandchildren yet unborn,

For the world that couldn’t give a damn. 

Yes, I’ve fucking prayed for us all.

I’ve prayed while driving

With each rotation of the tires.

I’ve prayed oceans of prayers.

Prayed from here to there

In lines of crispy breadcrumb trails

Eaten by the birds for whom,

Yes, I’ve prayed too.

So, what more am I to do?

I’ve prayed in churches, in houses,

In an apartment, along the nature paths,

On walks, on runs. I’ve prayed.

I prayed in the sun, the rain,

I screamed at God during a thunderstorm,

When thunder drowned my screams

And lightning did threaten

To shut my damn mouth.

Yet I prayed. And still even in this,

I do pray with these words

Though they’ve earned no answer

Yet, so don’t entreat me to pray

This damn pandemic away.

I still do pray in every single way,

So just—don’t.

Words for You

image courtesy opmat.org.au

VJ’s Weekly Challenge #96: circling

 

Circle through the years of youth

Find the gems along the streams

Of your years, my love.

Collect them in a basket,

Keep them close.

When the time comes

Give each away to your

Young ones.

Make each a gift,

Tied with ribbons

Of what you dream

And all of your

Wishes

For them.

As I have given

All my words

As a gift

Tied with ribbons

Of my dream

Of love

And my wish

Of happiness

For you,

My love,

My gift,

My daughter.

Walking to Race Point

Race Point Lighthouse Sunset Photograph by John Burk

Sleeplessness always told the story

between the back when and now,

what she once thought a game,

tracks leading nowhere.

This last section of living

something not well lived.

A swirl of memory

piercing through knots

too tight to be undone.

She had lived without a plan,

having a heart that spoke in tongues

she had yet to understand.

Dance

https://scvincent.com/2020/05/14/thursday-photo-prompt-dance-writephoto/

This week’s prompt ~ Dance

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a pale sun piercing the mists above a green path through a golden field, leading into the center of a circle of stones.

A mist of souls weaves among the stones

A dance between grasses of green and gold

Breezes chant in ancient secret runes,

Speaking in tongues of priestesses and druids–

A single soul leaps toward a shrouded sun,

And something in our blood no longer runs—

At all fluid.

Tone Deaf

image courtesy of Etsy.com
Written as a response to the following prompt:
https://amanpan.com/2020/05/11/eugis-weekly-prompt-harmony-may-11-2020/

Harmony never made sense to me
And neither did melody.
Can’t tell the difference, you see.
No talent with any instrument.
A singing voice that’d send me
To some lower level of hell.
Well, I’d never play Orpheus,
That’s for sure.
And no matter what you may think,
You ain’t some worthy Eurydice.