Into fall’s hands
Dreams of summer scatter
Chilled to death.
Fall strides to winter,
Claiming death of all living
Dreams rolled inward— green.
Winter sulks away
Spring green rising from within
Our winter hearts.
Spring arouses summer
Dreams awaken from a soul,
Heated imaginings.
Into fall’s hands
Summer leaps with all her dreams,
Scattered leaves to air.
Eugi’s Weekly Prompt “Night meets Day” August 17, 2020
What a sight the years have been!
Skipped a few heartbeats
walking through the valley,
found nothing new.
I sailed an ocean
didn’t dance as I’d wanted too.
In the desert,
I played a little poker,
winning the game, some money,
but still didn’t know what to do.
Then I thought I’d found a dream,
waking from the nightmare,
I screamed to see
the sight beside me.
Now, I journey onward
to catch the sunlight
as night meets day,
greeting what new sights
I encounter along the way.
Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge–August 4, 2020
Beneath the surface of the night
Flailing fitful, restless
A dream slept wrapped
In a syllabic, heavy blanket,
Waking drenched in a sweat
Of moon touched light.
Upon this awakening,
Her shining skin did give
Away no secret of her wings or flight
Beneath the surface of the night.
In this stillness,
You appeared,
Laughing, smiling—
A twirling blur
In a fresh dawn.
In this stillness,
I wanted
To move
Into the light of dawn
With you.
In the stillness,
I struggled,
And discovered
I could only watch
Your light filled swirls–
For I was the stillness.
Faceless, nameless
Are the multitudes
Who still exist
Within the air
Of a past colliding
Upon your present.
Unpleasant for you,
I know, disruption
To the course of your
Day to day
Good morning harmony,
The dripping sugar whiteness
Of your “girl next door” hood.
You are not faceless.
You are not nameless.
Your language drips privileged
White pearls of empty empathy.
Turn your television off with white pride,
The faceless and the nameless
Will not apologize for the noose
You feel tightening around
Your Good Morning Positivity
As faced and named change comes
To Our Nation.
We were silent,
Back in the day,
When death came
In white hoods, noose in hand
To hang our darker sisters and brothers.
We were silent
When death went
Across an ocean
With bent crosses, yellow stars, and gasses
for the Jew.
We were silent
Back in the day
When death came
For our gay brothers
Who pleaded with us–
Silence equals death.
A lesson we’ve not learned yet.
No words for all this
As we shake our heads
Our silence kills yet again
And another black man dies,
Crushed under authority.
Yes, silence equals death.
We cannot stay silent
If we believe a nation’s promise
Time for us to stand up
And find the words to say–
Should you do this
To our darker sisters and brothers
You do it to us all.
We are the burning flame
Burning away the old ways.
Don’t know what to do
when I dream of you.
Waking, I want to drench
my brain in pure bleach,
soaking it through,
until all the colors of you
out of my soul leach
and no longer do I miss you.
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.
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.
In breaking silence,
earth and sky kiss again.
At a toast of mid-day,
the moon shows her face,
a smile of grace.
In the glimmer of a star’s dance,
a thorn on dried roses prick,
a reminder of circumstance.
An insight to a heart mind and soul.
An onion has many layers. So have I!
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