Month: November 2017
Well, Well
There is a well of darkness
in the center of my chest
deep and steep-sided
I throw in a penny
then sprinkle it with tears
for all my wishes that
can never be
It’s so simple, really
falling and falling
and finally hitting bottom
Then I reach down
and draw out
a dipper-full of stars
This is for Joy, who has resurrected the Flash Friday 55 tradition started by the late, great Galen Hayes. Check it out at Verse Escape.
Wordless Wednesday – Leaning Birch
Caught in the Wind
Caught in the wind
like lonely crow’s caw of despair.
Caught in the wind
words spilled, lost to the world, then pinned
against a branch – a scrap of prayer,
tattered and flapping, yet still there,
caught in the wind.
This is a Rondelet (see below for sepcifics) written in response to “Fussy Little Forms” at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.
I couldn’t find who took the photo. If it’s yours let me know and I’ll either credit you, or remove it, as you choose.
The Rondelet is a seven line French poetry from with the following rhyme and meter:
Line 1 :: A—four syllables
Line 2 :: b—eight syllables
Line 3 :: A—repeat of line one
Line 4 :: a—eight syllables
Line 5 :: b—eight syllables
Line 6 :: b—eight syllables
Line 7 :: A—repeat of line one
Wordless Wednesday – November Walk
Woman with Long Hair
Woman with Long – Hair, Man Ray, 1929
I am the woman with the long hair
grown through years of want
and waiting
I am the woman with the stillborn dreams
feeling them dry up within me
throughout my gestation
I am the woman with the red shoes
dancing for my life
as the crowd looks on
I am the woman with the arching back
bent to your will
always aching
I am the woman with the bloody hands
reaching for a cigarette
sick of all the bullshit sacrifice
This is for the November Photographic Challenge at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.