Wordless – 55

There are
things older than words
dark, feral things
without form
that gather in my mind
and crowd my throat
pushing down
against the back of my tongue

Or, at times, they rest
thick and heavy
in the ends of my fingers
and the tip of my pen
as I try to write

even now.

 

Once upon a time, a wise man named Galen began writing 55 words on Fridays.  And he invited others to joined him.  Then one, sad day he left us.  But a good witch, Hedgewitch, took up the 55 and carried it for as long as she could.
I think of these people every time I manage to coax 55 words from wherever it is they come from.

Mom

Sometimes I feel
as if my mother’s story
got lost

She was
an only child
and that singularity
is a two-sided beast

Of course it allowed her
the freedom
to tell her story
any way she liked
without contradiction
or interruption

But it also left her
with the burden
of carrying that story alone

 

This is for Hedgie, keeper of Galen’s Friday 55, at Verse Escape.

How Many More?

I know
people kill people.
I know laws cannot
always
be enforced.
I know there are
people with mental illness.
I know
this country has
a second amendment.
And I know money speaks.

But I also know
seventeen more souls
have been ripped
from their lives
seventeen more families
decimated

And I wonder
how many more?

I am sick that I have cause to write this.  It is for Friday 55 at Verse Escape where Hedgewitch honors the late, great G-Man, by having us write exactly 55 words each Friday.

Early Riser

This morning
I was on
my fourth cup of coffee
when the sun
finally
showed his face

Three a.m. monster
thoughts
came to visit
again

The night before
it was
nightmares
that jolted me, terrified
from sleep

But I think
the monsters
are worse

At least
I can wake up
from the nightmares

This is for Friday 55 at Verse Escape where Hedgewitch keeps alive the tradition and memory of the G-man.

Curtains

it is the best of times
it is the worst of times
the market is up
integrity down

a nation stands by as
it is shamed, scammed and flimflammed
used and refused

is this insanity
to keep us from seeing
the man behind the curtain
or are we being led
to the precipice
in earnest?

This is a fashionably late entry for the amazing Hedgewitch and herFriday 55 at Verse Escape.

Turned

Wandering through
this dark, cold night
we stumble over
stones in the path
stones thrown in anger
stones that could build walls
stones that could break bones
stones that could bring down giants
or stones that waited in secret pockets
stones that sat in collections, on shelves

stones
that may once have been
our hearts

IMG_4010 (2)

This is for Hedgewitch’s Friday 55 at Verse Escape.

Present

We rush through
a tinderbox world 
with an armload of matches
as the wind picks up

Skies darken
lightning flashes
but no rain falls

Ignorance and Want
follow us
track us
trace our steps
drawing ever closer

Then high above
the vultures begin to circle
and all our bad victories
catch in our throats

 

These 55 words are woefully late for Joy’s FF55 at Verse Escape.