Rain-kissd tulips posed Spring winked before turning the corner While the jealous clouds sagged Reaching misty hands to stroke Jewel-bright petals waiting to bloom. Continue reading Tulips, Love
Some sad poetic musings inspired by the Poets of Twitter who tirelessly post prompts. Thank you for providing a frame to express the grief, anger, and inevitable questions raised by a loved one’s suicide. – – – RIP Rest in peace– those who have fallen, those who hang, those who lie six feet underground. – – – Questions for the Damned You who traded your pillow for a headstone, a coffin of silk, or an ash-filled urn– was it worth it? Did your pain end when life ebbed? – – – Musings on Suicide Strangled by his twisted halo, he … Continue reading RIP
I read the answer in his eyes,
skimmed the lies twisting his tongue. Continue reading Recreational Betrayal
My perceptions are winnowing,
to the chalk outline tying
me to this spot where something
delivered me into Death’s hands. Continue reading Monday Melted Me
Nibbling corn, he saw the world shorn of its preconceptions & scorned the forewarned Continue reading Once upon a Winter Morn
I’m out of my depth,
out of my league,
stepping on speaking hens
who prophesy doom. Continue reading Stepping on Speaking Hens
Images bloomed, scattershot
then in a barrage caught
and reflected on the knife
slicing the air, ending my unlife. Continue reading Aired Out
A gun-toting Cupid shot
me through the heart Continue reading I prefer my Cupid without his Gun
If I’m not the one, then who am I? Continue reading Monday Morning Melts
Luminous wings flapped,
while thunder clapped
drowning out my screams. Continue reading The Knife’s Cold Play
Like a criminal it stalked.
Floating up as I balked,
the dagger balanced on point. Chalked
circles met my eye and they talked
of black magic while I gawked. Continue reading Like a criminal, it stalked
Jason held the blade level with his eyes
and in its shine, my visage reflected.
Shock stuck my tongue to my mouth’s roof, no cries
escaped my lips’ prison. Continue reading Glass Animals Make Poor Weapons
The demon sizzled in my fire–
a holy pyre sent to retire
one crispy demon and his sire
through the man I’d loved and inspired.
#NovemberNotes Continue reading Betrayal detailed in fabric
We were almost lovers he and I,
lost in a world of desire,
but I was his new hire.
So we burned in a pyre
kindled by lust mired
in the real world briar.
#NovemberNotes Continue reading Almost Lovers
What anchored me and what spawned the tether?
Finding it changed me from a pale feather
floating on chance’s breeze in the aether. Continue reading Eternal