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 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/

A Witch Among the Willows

Image courtesy of fast-growing-trees.com

Sit among the willows,

drifting in ghostly silence,

each wrapped comforted

by misery’s blanket.

Except I am no longer,

listening to words

 

carefully scripted,

tumbling into deceit’s

delicious dishes

 

easily prepared

by your thin lips mouthing words

filled with ghost meaning.

 

Regurgitated regrets

bitter in the soul and heart–

I can tell you that.

 

A thing you would not

ever know, catalyst of misery,

your starring role.

 

Except–

 

tell-tale signs of age

now crackle through songs of your

sweet, deceitful voice,

 

makes harder to catch

victims snared in misery

of life trials made.

 

Stop floating among

the willows, thinking yourself

Calypso casting

 

spells of delicious

deceit, when you’ve aged into

Macbeth’s witch drifting

in the ghostly fog of ego.

https://godoggocafe.com/2020/10/20/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-tuesday-october-20-2020/
https://onewomansquest.org/2020/10/19/vjs-weekly-challenge-117-except/
https://amanpan.com/2020/10/19/eugis-weekly-prompt-ghostly-october-19-2020-%f0%9f%91%bb/

Musings on the Cracked Crystal Ball

Image courtesy of Aliexpress
https://amanpan.com/2020/09/28/eugis-weekly-prompt-crystal-ball-september-28-2020/

When you found the things you could,

A mist of breath showed in the rain,

Twin clouded rain shimmered colors

Of gray stone before you on a path you would go.

If only, if only, you should know the bones of us,

Move knotted stiff with the griefs you’ve piled upon your soul,

We’d glow of phosphorus and neon in velvet darkness.

Walking the dark, shadowed canyon of dreams

Wilted by disappointments and deflated sunshine

Waking to dimmest daylight at noon

Where you cannot bear to look

Upon your own reflection,

A sight of horror in your own eyes now

In that cracked crystal ball where you stand,

In your own self-consecrated field

Of plastic flowers bowing their majestic heads to you,

Your straw haired head is bowed,

Smiling at the ground.

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.

 

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.

 

A Crown of Thorns for You

Image courtesy of Flickr
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/08/22/weekend-writing-prompt-171-impact/

The impact of broken glass shards–

A mistake with need to drip blood.

Make a presence known of parts

Marred and greetings sent

For what they would take,

Staking once again the claim

To snatch away, drain  

Blood from a soul

Needed to adorn

Her ego’s bleached crown,

A haystack of needles

Pricking the fingertips,

A crown of thorns in reverse,

She claims its softness for you.

 

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.