Poetry

magpietales.thrznoplacelikehome

curled quietly
she yearned if only we could
submerged he sought her
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magpie tales 111
photo: parke harrison study of next 1994

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Poetry, we write poems

WeWritePoems.6 more

i have to speak in such a way
that only you would know

morning glow assembly
majestically proclaims
another fast forward
reminding me to yield

surrogate surrounding cantata
sorrow’s steady soothing steps
tomorrow’s turn tumbling foward
there’s not too many left

the wind flies constant
never stopping once
leaving more than less
dropping dreams design

settled comfortably
on the edge of a crackly leaf
the dew comforts
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we write poems: keepsakes like a breathe

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Poetry

one word. plague

one word: plague. photo courtesy of steffen tuck, flickr

drawn to the moonlight

bitten by a mosquito i thought nothing of it other than to scratch it and curse. and then everything changed. spotted and green it was a new look to an old feeling. grasping at another groan, i began replacing the pretty pink lipstick i kept on just for distraction. a subtle reminder… keeping away the foreign kiss of the others.

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Big Tent Poetry, Poetry

flashback forward

monday’s big tent poetry prompt: feet
photo: baby feet…,  mgrphotos, flickr

Baby Feet in my Heart

inquisitive eyes
hindsight hands
finger tracing translucence

an unexpected find
folded and found
torn and tattered
yellowed piece of paper
my hospital birth certificate

the paper says
i was born on this day
at this time and
stuck my feet in black ink
to prove i was

oh little feet
tell me the places
we shall go

size so small
soft as butter attributes
activated lines and shadows
eye witness to a future
the ol’ gypsy woman foretells

fresh little feet
did tell then
what now is when
how far i would travel
and the miles i’d run
to espy the rainbow’s
ancestral home

sometimes my feet sing
shifting from a long note
to a thousand quick beats of patter
skipping over burdens
as a child at play

oh he sez but they are pretty
otherwise he wouldn’t have stayed
it’s all in the feet he sez

consumed in a flashback
i’m walking forward
along weedy old tracks
some long forgotten
abandoned railroad line
remember the rattling train

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Poetry, we write poems

heal thyself

we write poems thursday prompt no 27: healing
photo:  by Cuba Gallery – Now on Twitter!, flickr

..when i saw this unbelievably beautiful photo, psalm 23 came to mind, ..” the lord is my shepherd i shall not want, he maketh me to lie in green pastures…”

first we held hands
not so much for her
possibly more for me

am i in heaven yet?

we sat silent for awhile
she was slowly slipping away
forgetting where she was

am i in heaven yet?

clutching heavenly clouds
entertaining existential eternity
in the silence of tv chatter
not wanting her to go

am i in heaven yet?

ms barbara brow past away this morning, we are grieving… though excited for her, as believers, absent from the body is present with the lord….

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monday poetry train, short story

transfer

it is an exciting day for monday poetry train revisited it is the 100 edition. congrats to gautami tripathy at firmly rooted ; photo: Cuba Gallery: Black and White / farm / vintage / texture, flickr

leaving a little note tucked in the sleeve of a forgotten memorable book she hugged the house and walked away.  it was after all more than enough. there were no more than a few hours left after an aeon in stasis.  searching the blue sky her eyes took in every detail acutely aware each footstep brought the disappearance closer. touching everything her fingers soon grew numb.

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