A Bedtime Reminder

Sleekness in siren red
Form-fitting
Delicate scratch
Of lace at the breast
A message in Braille
Against my skin
Whispering softly
Sexy doesn’t fade after forty

The Effects of Science on Modern Love

In this chemical reaction,
Molecules caught by attraction
Can often act erratically,
Creating heat and energy,

Complicating interaction
In this chemical reaction.
We’re testing our hypothesis
And giving close analysis,

Determining that energy
Increased thermodynamically
In this chemical reaction.
This wisdom gained by abstraction,

The lessons never taught in schools
Of chemistry and molecules,
Moving closer by a fraction
In this chemical reaction.


Note:  I'd like to apologize to scientists past and present for my poetic mangling of scientific theorem!

A Limerick for my Muse

Die Muse Kallipe - Leonhard Kern

I was cursed with a quite stubborn muse
Who constantly gives me the blues.
     When poetic inspiration
     Departs on vacation,
My writer’s pride always gets bruised.

Seeking an Answer

Image by Ben Kokolas

Her search for an answer
Took her beyond the edges of the map,
Down roads paved with more questions.
Grief is her companion on this trip,
A cumbersome stray dog
That never quite sheds its feral nature.

The murmur of reluctant voices
Pelt her senses,
Silent taunts that only cement her resolve.
The dense smoke of days gone by
Wafts around her,
Seeping through her cracks,
Obscuring the view rushing by her window,
Masking her constant pain.

Grief invites her
To drink of his sorrows,
To lose herself in despair.
She refuses the distraction,
Continuing her search for an answer,
Still questioning how
The man who so easily entranced her
Could slip so easily from her life.

Thought Processes

The Thinker - Auguste Rodin

I am a thinker.
I dissect and analyze
Everything around me
Into the smallest segments possible,
Until opportunity disintegrates
Before my eyes.
Much better to take action,
To step forward
And live a larger life
Than my systematic mind
Would ever think possible.

In the Spider's Classroom

Web by Ellen Wilson

Liars learn their lessons well,
Creating webs of duplicity,
Stringing lies together
Like an expert weaver,
The threads of treachery
Intertwining, twisting,
Tying the knots of mistrust,
While seeking to create
A tapestry of deception.

The Next Verse

Again a verse for the sake of you,
One more addition to the tired song
You strum across my heartstrings,
A lilting melody of hope
That always descends into despair.
I know there are new songs to compose,
New notes to fill the aching emptiness,
But you have always been the tune
That I just can’t get out of my head.


Note: The prompt from Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads that helped shape this poem asked us to use the first line of a favorite poem as a jumping off point for writing our own poem.  I found my inspiration in Ashes of Soldiers by Walt Whitman.  Be sure to check it out as well, his poem was vastly different than mine!

Halos

Image by Ben Kokolas

The tarnished halos
Of earthbound angels
Are polished by
Our acts of kindness.

Fortified

I assume a defensive posture
Behind the stone walls
Of this fortress,
My labor of self-preservation.

A nearly fatal injury
Has left me wary and suspicious,
Unsure if I can risk
Exposing the weaknesses
In my armor,
The fragile heart
Masked by bravado
And deceptive confidence.

My elastic memories
Snap me back into the pain
But can’t quite cancel
The glowing embers of hope
That tempt me to tempt fate again.

I hear temptation at the door
Encouraging me to gamble
With my weakened emotions,
While I still don’t know
If the other side of that door
Hides a savior or saboteur.

Who Wants Endless Winter?

I’m so tired of the cold, 

of struggling to warm myself 

in the rare beam of light 

That shines in my world.

I long for

A tropical sun

To chase the eternal chill

From my tired bones, 

A chance for new growth,

A new beginning.

Note: The prompt over at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads was to write a poem in response to a poem by another contributor.  I chose a poem from Rallentanda, Who Wants Endless Summer?  Be sure to check her poem out too!

From the Mouth of a Candidate

My position is quite unambiguous;
I have always been fully supportive
Of this measure from the beginning,
Except for a brief period of time
When I opposed it prior to taking
A neutral stance on the subject,
Which certainly has considerable drawbacks
While maintaining wide-spread appeal.
After careful deliberation,
I can unequivocally state
That I may (or may not)
Consider endorsing this issue
At some point in the future.

      ~No political candidates have approved this message.
        (Did we really think any of them would?)

Fragile Hope

The possibility remains
And echoes through the sad refrains
That constitute my life’s soundtrack.
They haunt me as I’m looking back.

The grim reality constrains
The possibility. Remains
Of what could be, my anguished plight,
Revisiting my thoughts despite

The truth that permeates my soul,
The damaged fate I can’t control.
The possibility remains
In spite of the incessant pains

That live within my ravaged heart.
I simply need a place to start.
As long as fragile hope sustains,
The possibility remains.

Happenstance

So much in my life 

Depends upon dumb luck, 

Random flukes,

Cosmic coincidences 

Beyond my control, 

The accidental twists that  

Fate sends my direction, 

Rendering my decisions 

Nearly meaningless 

As I meander 

Through this world, 

Pretending to have a hand 

In my own destiny.

Seeking Power

If I had the power,
I would stop all the clocks
and save this night forever,
the two of us lost
in a cosmic whirlwind,
insulated
from the cynical eyes
of the world.

If I had the power,
I would cleanse
The anguish
From your soul,
Erase your memories
Of the careless ones
Who neglected
Your tender heart.

If I had the power,
I would capture
The glowing embers
Of your dreams
In a jar,
Keep them safe
Until you were ready
To pull them out
one by one
And follow them
To your destiny.

If I had the power…
But I don’t.
The only power
I possess
Is the power to love you.

The Dead Road

Photo by Mary Ann Potter

The road was abandoned
By the county years ago,
Used now only by firefighters
Battling the occasional wildfire.
Two miles down that road,
Nestled behind a decaying farmhouse
In a shadowy grove where sunlight seeps
Randomly through the pines,
We kindled our own inferno,
Two restless souls
Lost in the flames of first love
Unaware our fire
Was destined to be extinguished.

Even now as I pass
That overgrown turn-off,
Nostalgia straps in
For a detour to the past,
The smudgy edges of memory
Receding just enough
To show my scorched heart,
The gaping sores of unhealed regret.
I find it just a bit bizarre
That lingering thoughts of him
Can still put me off-balance,
But I know the ghosts of lost love
Continue to whistle through the aging pines.

Swinging for the Stars

I wish I could go back
To the time when all that mattered
Was who could swing the highest.
In that magical seat of dreams
I would kick as hard as I could,
Swinging for the stars.

Today those seats hang empty
As I play at being an adult,
But I still kick as hard as I can,
Still swinging for the stars.

Drifting

Photo by Reena Walkling

Adrift on the unforgiving sea,
No rudder to correct my course,
An incomplete star chart and broken sextant
My only navigation tools.
Any captain worth his salt can see
The time has come to abandon ship
Or face a watery grave.

‘Tis better to spread my wings
And fly toward the horizon
In search of the next ocean.

Tea Party Ponderings

Gridlock in the government,
Adding to our discontent.
Discipline is now a joke.
Liberty goes up in smoke.

The Importance of the Rest

Notes held captive

In sheet music bars

Are liberated

By the jazz man’s sax,

Audible bubbles

Floating through the ether,

Landing in our souls,

The spaces between

Just as powerful

As the notes themselves.

What the Creatively-Challenged Poet Thinks

The words lie dormant in my brain
Uncooperative and stubborn
Leaving my confidence in ruins
Page after page of false starts crossed out
Rewritten only to be crossed out once more
Waiting for a spark to foster the creative impulse
About to surrender to the obstacles in my mind
When angelic whispers show me the shining path
That leads to the birth of a poem.

Waiting and Remembering

I spend my time
Waiting for my coffee
With the other
Monday morning customers.
They are oblivious
To the girl
With the ransacked soul
In their midst.
My eyes are filled
With visions
Of him,
Of her,
Of them…
An endless nightmare
Replaying over and over
Until their faces blur
Into a whirling fog
Of betrayal
Wrapping itself
Around me,
A belt of treachery
Paralyzing my emotions.

The line moves forward,
And his pleading
For that second chance
Rings in my ears,
His denials
Of the truth
I plainly see
Tangled in the sheets
Of my bed,
As the crowd
Around me laments
The upcoming colder weather.

The line moves forward again,
And I return to
The long hours of weeping,
The hopelessness of living
In a world tinged with regrets,
The knowledge
I would gladly trade
For the blissful ignorance
I lost when I walked
Through that door.  

The line moves forward yet again,
And I find myself
At the counter,
The clerk’s smiley face sticker
Mocking my own stony expression.
He tries to engage
In his usual gentle flirtation,
But his charms are
Completely wasted
On my ransacked soul
Lying lost in my own
Confidential melancholy.

Heartlight

Photograph by Talon

Two single hearts
Lit with a single flame,
Each one fighting
Back the darkness…

Joined together,
They can illuminate the world.

Illusions of Control

I put forth to the world
A carefully constructed
Illusion of control
While my path teeters
On the edge of a razor,
Any change in balance
Plummeting me
Into flesh-ripping disaster.

A Candy-Coated Lesson

Unique by selavie

Even in a confectionery world,
A random accident
Of food coloring
Can lead to exclusion
Despite being concocted
From the same recipe.

Cinnamon Girl

Women come in a variety of flavors:
Exotic saffron,
Passionate cayenne,
Elegant tarragon.
I am a cinnamon girl,
Spunky and playful,
The comforting taste
Of a small town girl-next-door.
I may never inspire dreams
Of wild adventures
And exotic locales,
But still a fine flavor
For a man with the right palate.

A Harsh Lesson

I steer my rusty Dodge Dart
Down the highway heading for exile,
Carrying nothing but rebellion in my heart
And a life now in ruins.

I had reason to be dubious of his intentions,
Watching the lies billow from his mouth
As he set fire to dreams I thought we shared,
Not able to latch myself to even a shred
As they vanished like vapor through my fingers.

Betrayal fuses to my soul,
A permanent scar to remind me
Of a harsh lesson learned.
As rain beats a staccato rhythm of metallic pings
To break the oppressive silence,
I grieve for the man I thought I loved,
Not the petulant child I left behind.

Tears of an Old Patriot

A patriot cries on heaven’s highest hill
And wonders if America remembers him still.
His nation, it seems, has lost its way,
A shining city plagued with urban decay.

Our people discouraged, the outlook looks bleak.
Our enemies see us as timid and weak.
The country is falling apart at the seams
As we witness the death of American dreams.

The government now is irreparably broken,
Ignoring the words that the people have spoken.
Our freedoms are fading, and some we have lost
For the sake of security, ignoring the cost.

He’s comforted knowing a new generation
Finds in his conservative stance, inspiration
To stand and continue to struggle, to fight
To protect precious liberty with all of their might.

He knows in his heart that our country’s best years
Are still yet to come, and he fights back his tears.
Let’s all come together and defend the Constitution.
The time is now here for a ballot-box revolution.

Permafrost

Photograph by Richard Schear

This is not the life I wanted,
Frozen in an arctic embrace,
A terminal chill seeping
Beyond my bones,
Freezing me from the inside out.
For years I’ve bundled myself
In cynicism and pain
But found no respite
From the cold,
Only an insulating barrier
Banishing any warmth life may offer.
I could never see the way
To melt my frosty heart
Is not to merely stand near the fire,
But to dance in the flames and
Surrender to the inferno.

Hard to Resist

Temptation,

A jolt that beckons

Toward the forbidden,

A fleeting surge of impulse 

Detached from the consequences.

Bleeding Sky

Sonic screams resounding
Through the darkness,
The night sky is sliced open
By a thousand jagged blades of light,
Hemorrhaging onto the ground below.

Empowered

Secrets hide in the shadows of “No”

Unrealized opportunities

Untraveled highways

Unforgettable moments

Unfulfilled potential

Fear empowers the negative

Leaving us static

Frozen in the familiar

While life rushes past

Say “Yes” to your life

Say “Yes” to everything

“Yes” empowers us,

Allowing us to

Learn

Stretch

Grow

Experiment

Create

Live

Poem inspired by the movie "Yes Man"

Mental Pause

I find that as I’m getting older,

My body just keeps getting colder,

       And the temperature clashes

       That come with hot flashes,

Can make my tranquility smolder

On my Vices

You ask about bad habits,
I’d say I have a few,
Although the ones around me
Would likely say a slew.

It seems that I’m a train wreck
And gone horribly awry.
When pressed to make improvements,
This is my reply:

“My life is meant for living.
I don’t want to just exist.
I won’t waste my time on small stuff
‘Cause there’s too much to be missed.

So I’ll drink my Irish coffee
And I’ll smoke my cigarettes.
Life’s too long for obsessing
And too short for regrets.”