Showing posts with label Our Lost Jungle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Our Lost Jungle. Show all posts

Monday, June 10, 2013

Bitter Memories

See? Here I am with my Day 6 poem for the prompt, "bitter." (If you read my poem post early this morning for Day 7, you know what I'm talking about.)

Photo of Liquid-Filled Bottle
Drink Me

Bitter Memory Potion

Take a spoonful
of memory, hold
your nose, swallow
without a gag, wash
it away with gob-
let of tears, swish
around aftermath
of releasing clutches
the holds have on you,
sweeten future with a dash
of foggy morning, running
shoes stumbling on
their way to fresh bitter-
sweets, swallowing
it all away to empty.


*****

What Makes You Tremble?

It's late. I'm tired. I'm out of order. Well, not me. My poeming. (I skipped Day 6, but will get back to it later.)

The below poem is for the day 7 prompt, tremble 

Photo of Lovers
Soul Mates

Generally Speaking

Every girl hungers for that
man who makes her self-
less, forgets that she
is human, brings her home

to her soul. Every girl
craves the brush
of scratchy bad-boy
stubble upon her inn-

ocent thighs, the man
who pens her love notes
in his sleep, the man sleep
breaks away from, spirit 


out scouting sultry
energy. Every girl
wants a man burned in-
to her mind, primal touches

flaring fires on her
routines, forgetting all except
his anguish at her absence.
Every girl wants that man. 



[Obviously, not every woman wants this. But tonight, this is how I roll.]


*****

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Crushed

Sad news brings me back to those feelings again. Ugh. Now that I'm nearing 50, I guess it will be a regular event from now on. Getting out the yuck and then moving on. 

The below poem was written for the Day 5 prompt, "crush."

Photo of Gravestone
He'll Get Us All Eventually

Death Crush

There’s no time for deals
when he knocks on your door,
waiting to serve papers, deliver
your soul to Heaven
or Hell, scrape what is left
of what now means nothing
to you, laugh at the ones
he torments when you leave
them behind.


*****

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Fit for a King

This is my creation for the Day 4 prompt, "Fit for a King."


Photo of Pouting Child
Little Prince


Defiant Prince Throws a Fit for a King

Without tipping his head, 
his fists flew in the air, 
he smashed his slippers 
into some sort of flare, 
his face went from pouty 
to gristly and then eight
shades of red. And all
this fight merely
for his right to stay
out of bed. 


*****

Monday, June 3, 2013

The Color of Love


This is my Day 3 project for the "30 x 30 Challenge" with Khara House. The prompt today was "red" and since the creative medium is open, I was inspired to make a book.

It didn't turn out as I envisioned because I ran out of time, so consider this a mini-version or a prototype. (I wanted haiku inside where the single words are.)




I had fun putting "read" on the back to complement the word "red" on the front cover. 

What does the word "red" make you think of?

*****



Dreaming of Sleep (Again!)

This month, I am participating in the 30 x 30 Day Challenge with Khara House. Her prompt for June 2 was "slumber." How appropriate considering I am not seeing much of it these days. 

Photo of Doll
No Sleep When Your Eyes Won't Close


Dreaming of Sleep

Oh slumber could save
me from waking daze
I reside in, sleep-
walking through time, day
and night jumbled
into one long trail stretching
behind me, lumbering
through ups and downs no sleep-
less can free me from

*****

Monday, April 1, 2013

April Poem-A-Day Challenge - Poem 1

Wow! It's hard to believe that another poem challenge is here - the 2013 April PAD Challenge with Robert Lee Brewer!

I'm excited! Robert's prompts help keep my old(er) brain challenged.

Photo of woman in bed
Dreaming Up Poems


The Arrival of a New Challenge

Just when sleepless couldn’t get
any more exhausted, April stepped

in and brought a mountain of prompts
to keep my mind working day into night,

dreaming pushed aside for a pencil,
notepad, computer, text message

to myself, a zombie marching through fields
of words like bones, stacked

together, a jigsaw of thoughts,
looking on to the daylight of May

first where sleep calls my name,
promising only a moment of rest

before the next challenge called some-
thing like submit-o-rama.

*****