28

White
is absence,
the absence of pigment
of fertility
of time

White
is hard,
the hardness of tooth
of bone
of stone

It is not vulnerable
like green
alive and pulsing

It is not fluid
like blue
brimming and rippling

White is brittle, bleached
leached
a bleak remnant

White is what is left
when life is gone
and even decay is done

26

I sit with the moon
when everyone else
is tucked away, dreaming
I recite the stars
like a litany
rolling them
around my mouth
touching each tooth
one by one until I have
emptied the sky

25

I hold the disk of the moon
under my tongue
and count to one hundred
I feel it dissolve
as the silvery coolness
slips down my throat
curls in my belly
I swallow the moon
then keep her wisdom
in my blood
under my skin
no one knows
but they can see
I am radiant

You might want to take a peek at Verse Escape.

 

24

Pride sits
on a broken throne
in its hands, a tiny
shiny blue alphabet

Pride howls
alone on its throne
in the wee
hours full of bluster and bite

Pride clings
to its slippery throne
ringed by
angry fires
listening to the fiddler

Another for National Poetry Month, the subject is from Real Toads, where they suggested we write about the seven vices or virtues.

 

23

Ah,
gotta love
the modern life –
the tweets of a twit
or the magic of
micro-po
one-four-oh!
Keep it simple, stupid,
small and statesmanlike
or not…

This is for Real Toads where the suggestion is to try a 140 character, Twitter-sized poem.

22

These are dark days
Our minds are filled with small thoughts
like dogs on short leads
we don’t stray far
from the concrete
Our lives shrink to fit
into the prescribed boxes
society has set for us
We have forgotten the time
when we used to soar
Our mouths are filled with small words
and all our bad victories
catch in our throats

21

Some years
the ice goes out dramatically
with much noise and damage
spring thaws may bring calamity
when hearts grow apart

 

Needs work, but I’mm sooo behind.