08 May 2021 Saturday Poetry Prompt: relationships
I keep knocking on her door — tap-tap-tap, beating
out a melody that says I love you in 4/4 time.
But the sound just echoes in the emptiness behind the wood,
swirling in endless circles around my head — then disappears.
I send a text — tap-tap-tap and words fly across the ether
like pterodactyls in Jurassic air — swooping and screaming –
Why won’t you answer me? Then the phone beeps, Message
Not Delivered — couldn’t be arsed.
I walked a lonely walk and had a song echoing in my head -
05 May 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem: mixtures & structures
Slipped out of the house and poured myself into my car this morning.
Feeling the need for speed — to escape from a single moment
As the barrier is snapped and I am transported to another place.
Could have been Pomona or San Juan Capistrano. Gray freeways
ribboned through the landscape, accelerating my departure
as the skies watched from above, sniffing in disapproval.
The mortal coil wraps itself around the unsuspecting. Alleviates
and dissuades from pursuing charges of mistrust and indecent
exposure — revealing far too much of who we are.
01 May 2021 Saturday Poetry Prompt: capitalize this
The Meaning Of The Meaning Of What
I Was Intending To Say, Just Drifted Off The Page,
And Fell Precipitously To Its Own Death. Alas, The
Resulting Carnage, Though Without Prescience,
Left Little Doubt That There Is No Mercy For Those
Ideas That Fail To Make Their Own Mark. That Fail
To Impress Resolutely Enough, That They Are Dismissed;
Cast Into The Second or Third Chorus Of Life, And
Left To Bear Witness To Their Betters, As They March
On Towards Comprehension — Somewhere In The Indefinite Future.
On The Other Hand…
28 April 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem: the rooms have us
It wasn’t much.
No frills or fancy lace. The light minimal –
As if the sun was giving out only so many rays –
not sure if it was worth any more.
Delicate — not exactly. Rough hewn
wooden floors, aged. Footprints of a
thousand guests still faintly remaining.
Tracks in search of a place to be.
Did they ever arrive? Doubt it.
The room was just a stopping point.
A place to breathe and exhale. …
24 April 2021 Saturday Poetry Prompt: the apparent contradiction
The punch landed a millisecond before the fist did.
Felt the ache before the pain arrived –
just disappointment more than anything else, I guess. Disillusioned
that you saw the need to raise a hand, instead of simply
having that conversation.
Looking up from the floor, not a bad place when the world is reeling —
I knew things would never return to the way they were.
Broken glass mends poorly. Broken hearts, sometimes not at all.
You said you were ashamed that I didn’t fix your problem –
Awkward being the…
21 April 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem: through the city
To love New York, the city, its cracked pavements
and litter, moving endlessly in waves under foot and
over objections. The hissing of manhole covers, as
steam rises like wraiths from the river Styx below.
Its sounds echoing through urban corridors of steel and
concrete; pushing against the swelling populace that
travels quickly, alone and in packs — like prey and predator.
Its colors distorted like heat waves in summer, shimmering
as sweating bodies ache in unison — horns blaring,
traffic lights blinking in 4/4 time — the beating heart of
a metropolis that…
We age. We grow. Our limbs extend outward as our heads move farther and farther away from the ground. We feel elevated. Above others. Able to do things we could only dream of before. Inch by inch we are becoming adults and with adulthood comes greater potential.
Or so we assume.
But what drives this belief and what actually makes a real difference in whether we succeed or not, at anything we do?
IQ or intelligence quotient, refers to a human’s innate ability to acquire and process knowledge and solve problems. Not a guaranteed outcome, but the potential.
17 April 2021 Saturday Poetry Prompt: what about the pace?
Sat alongside the river — the river of doubt,
that flows through my backyard — through the
neighbor’s. Through 42nd Street and Central
Through the steel cables running above the Brooklyn Bridge
The top most part
The part that holds it all together.
That withstands the wind, the cold, the aggravation
of those walking beneath.
Threw a rock into the river — hit a duck. Felt terrible.
The duck threw it back. Fucking fowl.
Saw a boat in the river. It was named Hope.
Painted blue — pastel blue…
14 April 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem: getting off work
My ass throbs like an engine - with too many miles on the road,
staring through a fog of exhaust and faltering dreams.
Dust pushes off the tarmac - remnants of days past, and
ideas flicked from car windows — crushed with disinterest
as we all race towards the end of another day.
Get there, get it done, then get home
We’re always in a hurry to finish what is yet begun.
Horns blaring, middle-digits raised in salute —
We drone down the highways in hot pursuit.
My ass turned into…
National Poetry Month Prompt — #13 Untitled
It’s a little-known emotion
wedged unobtrusively between heartache
and anticipation, that toys with our senses
and often leaves us in a state of disrepair.
When the ole ticker is aching and throbbing -
banging on just like Big Ben, and the tears are pumping
out faster than one can dab, this emotion
triggers the endorphins and registers high on
the Richter Scale of human interaction as we
begin our slide into the soft arms of release.
It’s cagey and debonair and frequently in disguise
and when we least expect it, robs us of tomorrow;
I’m a writer. I love words. Those written, and those received. I’m here to communicate and comment. To listen and to learn. To be a part of a greater whole.