Spinning

photo by Francesca Woodman

For Magpie Tales

Spinning spinning spinning

i sway to the fierce music

witness the not guilty

look for the mossy soul that weeps

dancing not for praise

but for disappearing

with no woe and a glint in my eye

i dance for going

to enter the light 

to seek the hushed place

for my soul to shine

Spinning spinning spinning

For Sunday's Whirligig

Addiction

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie, Collage 12 writing prompt and 

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads Tuesday Platform

i found out
i couldn't juggle
the ups
the downs

someone said
take this you feel good
I flew
into the dark stars

fell flat on my face
thought that
was worth the trip
looked for more

live only for more
don't make no difference
just a high any high
so's i could believe

i was somebody
i could juggle
i was a super hero
high

with ups there's downs
dark stars closed in
dark spaces between
kept the secret

it fried my soul
used up
nothing to trade
i fell into the fire

alone not high
with no real heart
i pick up pieces
to learn to juggle again

Blue Is The Right Color

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

BLUE IS THE RIGHT COLOR

For carefully folded paper stars

for words that try to hold their meaning

for raindrops that never reach the soul

Blue is the right color

for dreams of youth

cast upon life's Ferris Wheel

torn, worn, scattered

Blue is the right color

when memories hold you

with nothing left 

except the unraveling

Been Sick, Didn't Die

I coughed my soul out
cleaned it
and swallowed it again

More than a sickness
like a cleansing
or an exorcism

All not good was forced out
with such magnitude
i could barely breath

Days passed
battle worn and weary
I slept

Winning one battle
of life
but not the war

I know, I'm a drama queen!  I'm back!

Thanks for all the kind words and well wishes while I was "under the weather".

No More!

pretend play

flying shoes

scarlet stench

silence

empty verses

holding inscriptions

scars demanding

NO MORE!

Sunday's Whirligig

Only two extra words!

Beware!

The taxman cometh
Beware his premise of help
Fearful of prison system
Inevitable mail opened and kept

The heat could be worn
The tension sliced
The story ended
With sovereign advice

This was written for a prompt at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads.  The challenge was to use three of the twelve words given.  I used twelve.

Accept the challenge and read the creations of others.

Fog

Slipping into the valley
on "little cat feet"*
the fog curved
sensuously
around over
every shape

Within the invisibility
it left behind
you could
almost
hear a feline purr
of satisfaction

* words from a Carl Sandburg poem
for Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads

Gossip Is A Weapon...

Sunday's Whirligig

Gossip is a weapon

an alarming secret storm

with bronze razors

instead think and

speak with unsoured truth

drink when thirsty

bathe in a love poem

The Stray

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

and

Poets United: Poetry Pantry

The stray would not be caught
Though I softly called to him
A fearful look was all I got
As the light quickly grew dim
In this special place of shade
Further ahead the dog goes
Splashing through the glade
Where the crystal water flows
Where soft spring moss lies
Growing loosely on the stone
With Winter's coming green dies
And turns to a winter tone
Helpless returning to home's lawn
Sadly he did not follow but was gone

Wednesday's Words

from Under The Porch Light.  Today she gave us two sets of six words to inspire our creativity and include them in a creative work of sorts.  I thought, why not?  Then I couldn't just use six!  I had to include them all.  I don't follow instructions well. Thanks, Delores, for the fun prompt.

PRAYING FOR A HERO

Creeping
invisible
with an impending
sense of
gallows doom

One silver tear
sliding down
merely a flicker
across her chiseled face
beauty unmarred

Quieting
irregular breathing
she scanned the desolate
arid landscape
expecting trouble

Praying for a hero

Words for Whirligig

For Sunday's Whirligig

STOP!

Fight not with tooth and nail

Vent your rage softly

Brush it out set it free

Sink  not into madness

The weight of the world

Is not yours to bear alone

Take a page from life's book

When the sun's light

Reflects in mirror or spoon

Ravish the sweet orange

Cement

Your dreams

Fear

In the far reaches
Of Kingdom Fae
Along the edges hidden
Is where danger lays

Unnamed monsters
Lurk Unseen
Stay in the sun's light
Walk the moon's beam

Life is as dreams
The things we dread
The things we often fear
Are created in our heads                      Linking to Imaginary Garden With Real Toads 

Packing

Sunday Whirligig 

Carefully packing...

Dispute, crack and war

In a strong suitcase

Pounding to escape

Couldn't fathom

The noise the trio could make

Enough!

Eating fruit

Writing parables

Listening to birdsong

Trying to save the world

Carefully packing.,.

Last Night

Last night we had thunder storms, hail and lots of rain.  All is good.  The rain brings out the night crawlers...fish bait.  We were out with flash lights picking them off the ground.  No digging for our fish bait.  Dad started these years ago by releasing some Night Crawlers from Illinois.  They have a flat tail, the only way to distinguish them from the natives.  We also have native cane worms, night crawlers, wigglers (our name for them) and red worms.

When it rains, you walk softly with a flash light.  You have to move fast to grab these before they quickly retreat to their safe spot.

We have enough for two or three meals...gotcha!  The worms will be used to catch fish and we will eat those.  Of course, I had to write a silly poem...

Last Night

Lightning flashed

Thunder rolled

Ate Chocolate Pie

Hail did blow

Ground's soaked

Worms crawled

Caught fish bait

Couldn't get them all

Sing Back

Old Bank Street, Manchester, UK by R.A.D. Stainforth

Magpie Tales

Sing back a frame 
That did exist
A fiery re-call becomes
A chance to repair
To craft a new deal
From time gone
Add your wishes
This moment
Like a boat's sail
Will billow full again

The Sunday Whirl-Weekly Wordle

Poets United: Poetry Pantry

Attempting a triple prompt...

Unattended Death

Gets you a "Y" incision
They weighed and measured
Prodded and poked my organs
Emptied my stomach
To see what I ate last...
Dandelion, water cress
And goodies from the nut trees
My muddy feet puzzled them
They found me
Eyes wide open
Toward the blue sky
In the warmth of Spring
Unattended death
Gets me a "Y" incision.

For Imaginary Garden With Real Toads Open Mic

Wordle Fiction...Cave

Wordle  from Sunday Whirl

I tracked through woods hill and dale
What I would find I could not tell
Science held a fascination to me
I explored until I fell

Cracks and crevice unseen by me
Seemed to evoke a lost memory
Saintly angels appeared on cue
Watching my attempts to wrestle free

I was stuck. What should I do?
No one knew where I had gotten to
I acted as if this was on purpose
And studied the sky of blue

I was a little nervous
pebbles covered the entire surface
I climbed feeling lucky and worthless
The empty cave held no serpents

Although this wasn't fair
my ignorance had landed me there
the empty cave pulled my hair
As I climbed toward the fresh air

Although I used Sunday Whirl's words this was another attempt at Frost's form. I added an extra verse.  One of these days I might conquer this form.  Where ever you are I hope you're warm.

Frost's Form

Our mission for today is to write using Robert Frost's form for dVerse~Poets Pub

It matters not what we write

We check if form is right

On paper I laboriously pen

Hoping I finish this night

I write the verse and begin

To see what comes from my blend

It's hopeless I can see

One more verse and it will end

I create the second of three

I almost finish this gleefully 

Mr Frost would not be glad

I've butchered his form so horribly

A fourth verse must be had
To keep the form true not bad
So I've added to my writing pad
To prove I am stark raving mad

Hope of Spring

Winter's cold-blooded coils
tighten
chilling me to the bone
I peer from inside
my carefully donned layers
Remembering Spring
I smile

For Poetry Jam's Tis The Season

I Cover My Eyes

I cover my eyes

maybe 

your trite words

will no longer

  bind my spirit

mind the spell

aimed at me

I sing 

a butterfly

flying free

miles away

the land 

holds

sign 

of spring

You 

no longer

have power

to scorch

to burn me

ring you chime

sing your lies

I do not hear

I cover my eyes

I have joined The Sunday Whirl Wordle 196 with the picture prompt from Magpie Tales.