the loom (Day 11 - an object)

Warped some years ago
The loom sits,
Waiting patiently
For the weaver to return,
Beckoning me from
My place of unreality,
Inviting me to enter back
Into the realm of my dreams.

Day 10 - Good Friday

Good Friday



“Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”

The tears fell
Intermingled with the rain
The girl on her knees
Pain pouring
From her eyes
The thunder crashed
Lightning ripped across the sky
As the veil was torn
And the way became clear.

“Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble…”

When i have fears

When I have fears that wish to bring me down
Before I can get the nerves to tell thee
A’fore the great multitude of people shown
Quietly I speak thy name and wake from dream

When I behold myself in the dizzy light
Shaking with the fear, I come walking to you
And think that I can no longer stand upright
Knees knocking, hagg’red breath drawn in I speak my piece

The Bee poem

I was out here writing POETRY
When I was struck by a BEE
It happened while I was sitting under a TREE
Oh crap! Another BEE
I was just a sitting to see what I could SEE
Ouch! Another Bee
I tried to think to of a word with a daring D
Dang nab it! Another BEE
No clouds I the sky as far as the eye could SEE
Crud! Another BEE
Now for a word with a with powerful P
Oh man! Another bee
Smash!!! I got that bee
Do you want to see

Euphonious Harmony

Whoosh!!!
In the prismatic display of glory.
Angelic wings Spread wide,
She entices….
Faith
In pleasing exhilaration.
That beauteous energy,
Whose sight is welcomed,
To the eye.

The United States

Rocky….
King of the Mountain

To Balls bluff Easter Island

Beware
Of the
Killer
Jellyfish

Incredibly well equipped

The Sausage Guy
ate leftovers on the run

Imagine maligned, devilish and silky smooth

What Happens in Vegas
stays.

typewriter

i walk in for the first
time since i left that day
dust still on the letters.
i've wanted so badly to
feel them beneath my fingers.
To type a paper, a sentence,
or just a word.
i try to remember why
i ran away in the first place,
why i left everything i loved behind;
my family.
my nice warm bed.
and my typewriter.

PAD1

It starts from birth,
The labels, stereotypes, and categories.
It starts from birth.

When born
You are given a name.

When you get to Elementary School,
You gain a nickname.

When you enter Jr. High,
You take your middle name as your first.

When you drag yourself into High School,
You get labeled like a can.

Prep
Goth
Emo
Jock

It goes on.
And on.

No way to stop it,
You are labled.
You are given a name,
A group.

It all starts at birth,
You can’t choose
What people call you.
You can’t choose
What people think of you.

It doesn’t end at death.
You can’t choose what name they put on the tombstone.
You can’t choose what THEY
Describe you as.

It all starts at birth,
It doesn’t even end at death.

hey look snow

Hey Look Snow

Small white flurries…….. SNOW!
They won’t last long you know,
Frigid on skin.
Enduring out there in my shirt,

I look up toward the skies,
And to my surprise
It comes and pelts me in the eyes
It stings at first,
But only a little.

I open my mouth to quench my thirst,
And then that flurry burst,
Just stopped……….
To be continued……but probably not

Two months later, on down the road.
Down I went, a splattered toad
I skimmed the ice
My common sense would not suffice,
I tried to adjust but to no avail.

There I fell,
I went down fast,
And busted my “face.”
My dog ran off, I just stayed.
Nursing my behind, who had seen more gracious days.

Lifting myself up cursing,
The small white flurries of snow.
Reminding myself,
They won’t last long you know.

finally

He’s dead,
Finally.
This place,
On he horse,
Finally.
The others did
Help me, but no one
Has to know that

I have this hatchet,
Yeah they have
More weapons,
More people
But I can reach
Right down and
Grab the dead guys
Guns and sword.

The horse is ready
To start running
On my signal,
After just a few
Swipes across their
Necks, and just a
Little jump on
To the horse.

And then I’ll be
Home free.
Finally.

Unless,
They catch can on to
My plan first.

Iron Angel

This iron-clad giant
Rusty and wrapped in filth
Tired of living this lie
So he spreads his wings, and
Lifts his hands in surrender
Iron Angel

Woman - Ekphrastic Poem

Woman -

Who is this woman?
Clad in silk and finery,
With an icy blue stare.

She is a thief’s flame.
Clad in stolen gold and lace.
In a hidden safe-house.

She is a duke’s child.
Clad in the fruits of his labor.
Without worry or want.

She is a schoolmarm.
Clad in a hand-me-down dress.
An altruistic soul.

She is a woman,
Clad in silk and finery,
With an icy blue stare.



Hayden Russell

Socrates's Demise

"This is an outrage, an
Abomination", cries the man.
"Refusing to recognize the Gods
Recognized by the state, and how
Dare they accuse me of corrupting the youth!
Slave, retrieve the hemlock poison,
The drink of death, my fate.
Yes, bring it here to me.
Those of you who gather here in mourning
Watch as I taint my body, mouth, throat
With this ungodly substance"

Community

The marketplace is fresh with life.
Food's aplenty, as well as smiles.
Children play, mothers gossip, fathers bargain.
So many stories to tell.
But yet, isn't there only really one.

The Tree

The tree flies with grace.
Leaves blow like a fresh new hope.
The moon smiles on it.

Victory

France is ours again.
The mass of bodies pile up.
Blood litters the ground.

Tyrants are now dead,
says the steaming, putrid air.
Our flag waves proudly.

I see a friend dead.
For freedom is never free.
But it's worth the price.

Dirty poems Day 7

People looked at her sideways
As if she were something a little queer
When she happily confessed her fondness for dirt,
Bewilderment registering in their eyes
That she, a molder of minds, was
Impassioned by the feel, the smell, the possibilities of soil.

It seemed to make the men uncomfortable
That she asked to go fishing with them
Or volunteered to help mend the asphalt
Or contribute to the masonry of the house.

They weren’t sure if they should humor her
Or just pretend like it never happened
And simply hope she went back to tasks
More appropriate for her sex
Than those of cultivating life, nourishing souls,
Mending the broken, and building a home.

ME

Down in Flordia
Only children themselves
they made a child
in the room where
the pool table sits

On the Outside Looking In

all the secrets now revealed
I see now
what could have been
on the outside
looking in

I see you with her
a child in your arms
a smile on your face

I should have never let you go
but i thought it was for the best

I see now
i was wrong
on the outside
looking in

The problem with you and me

The probelm with you and me is that your a liar.
you tell me that you love me.
who else do you use that charm on
Haley?
Brandy?
Hannah?
When I'm away from you
your unfaithful
I don't wanna be the girl
you run to when she cheating on you
So do me a favor
and don't come back
when you see these tears
fall

(April 2nd Prompt - outsider)

“You ain’t from ‘round cher, is ya?”

Because I can speak it but don’t
Because I got roots in the shore but grow in the hills
Because I’ve been around the world and will go again

No, I ain’t from ‘round cher,
But my heart calls this place home.

(Day 1 Prompt - Origins)

They celebrated that year
In a lone star state
Without kin, pines, or the smell of the sea

Landlady on rooftop
Armed with shotgun
Popping off armadillos,
Daddy launching arrows
At unsuspecting
Raiding omnivores.
Mama laughing at Pandy herding cattle
And wondering which alien soil
They would be led to next

The scent of skunk in the air,
The fire of jalapeños on the breath
The call of coyotes in the clear December night

And I was there,
A quiet secret,
Waiting patiently within.