The Pleasure Garden - a Poem for Day Thirty of PAD

I skipped day twenty-nine. If I wind up writing something, I will post it later. For now, here is the prompt for day thirty of the PAD Challenge:

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “The (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles could include: “The Poets,” “The Good Guys,” “The Bad Guys,” “The Last Thing She Said,” and so on.

Even the Garden Statues Come to Life

The Pleasure Garden

Undetected fairy wings 

     twitch
under my footsteps
and an itty-bitty
cracked crystal ball
     reads
my future,
but I’m too busy
     getting by
to notice.

Mossy dreadlocks
     swing
in the trees above me
while flying ants
     police
the grounds,
     handcuff
me in lotus pose,
hold me captive
for rainbow
shield bugs
     to cleanse
my chakras.

Somewhere
off in the distance,
a brownish-grey
mourning dove
     coos
my name,
begs me
to stay, set
an example,
gather debris,
plant seeds, help
     heal
the thicket,
teach all futures
to love and hold
it in 

     high
esteem.

***

Bury the Emptiness (a Poem for Day Thirty of PAD)

I am copying and pasting in the prompt for day thirty:

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Bury the (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Some possible titles include: “Bury the Hatchet,” “Bury the Body,” “Bury the Past,” “Bury the Hate,” and “Bury the Acorns.”

Evidence You Were Here

Bury the Emptiness

Bury the space around me.
Smother it with tiny aprons
and European coffee houses,
scratch gritty grounds
against my raw emotions,
scrape your fingernails
through slippery timber
drifting around my edges.
You’ve dug me such a deep,
deep hole, there’s no wetting it—
not with milky tears
lapping both our shores,
not with all those
looting one-eyed love
thieves pretending to explore
with interest, not with beauty
or sea monsters of every
ocean blue. Just bury
my heart at the beach
and then carry it out to sea. 

*****

Calling It a Day (for Us) - (a Poem for Day Thirty of PAD)

Sometimes it's so hard to say goodbye that people say nothing at all. That's what I've been struggling with the past few days. But I finally was able to write something that felt right for this last prompt. And so now I feel relief that I was finally able to put thoughts to paper. 

PAD CHALLENGE: DAY 30

For today’s prompt, write a “calling it a day” poem. Some people might call this “Miller time,” others may refer to it as “closing time.” Just remember: Don’t call it a day until you put it in a poem.

It Was so Easy to Erase Me

Calling It a Day (for Us)

The opposing end of this pencil
le(a)d me to eraser-dusted love
lettering, emotions too young to travel
from thought to tongue, resolve
too weak to roll good with bye,
tears so familiar they’ve taken
your place, curled up next to my sobbing
heart, keeping me comfortable at night
when earthshakes threaten to steal away
my asylum, found only in this worn-down nub.


*****