Going for Coffee
Hot gravel blisters bubble under her big toe,
Twists and hops, remembered hurt in every step,
Sharp stone, dirty path winds ever farther.
Juke joint music rides the dry summer air,
Stifling heat crests, then cools, stereo snaps silent.
“She left hours ago, man.”
I have enjoyed Chris James’s writing for many years. The Repulse series has been his BEST yet!! Can’t wait for the next installment – The Endgame. I’ve pre-purchased my copy already!!
The completion of a new novel leads to a lot of what I call “book admin”. The first and most important issue is the cover. The cover for The Endgame didn’t take long because I had it visualised in my head for some time while writing it, so I only had to play around for a few hours to create it. But in addition to that, all other aspects of my online presence need work. So, I have to update my biography for my website and Amazon, add the new cover to my header images and replace them on all social media platforms, and then let all of you know that the next book is on the way.
The Repulse Chronicles, Book Four: The Endgame will be published on Amazon’s Kindle on 30 May. The paperback will likely be available a few days before then. As regular readers will know…
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There was a day when I was twelve.
I sat upon a purple blanket, on the green field beside the park’s baseball diamond.
The sun blazed hot.
My bare toes searched through cool blades of June grass.
I had no cares except everything.
Happiness.
***
44 word quadrille for this week’s d’Verse prompt: happiness
His arm outstretched on the bar top so long
Defining wood grain has marked his skin with deep welts, lines,
Semi-permanent tattoos, depicting the aching magnetism
Of old fashioned, warm amber, honeyed,
Pain relief. Waiting.
Just beyond his fingertips, though never beyond his grasp.
d’Verse quadrille (44 word poem) prompt: magnetic (in any form)
Upon waking from brief escape,
I’m anxious, timorous.
Sky’s darkest blue is unrecognizable.
For all-consuming shades and shadows,
Blanket dreary these cold, unknowable hours.
Is it morning or midnight?
I tuck my exhausted heart beneath the crumpled duvet,
And await a calm of light.
***
Before our worlds unraveled, then knotted,
Before life pulled our friendship apart,
Untethered our hearts, then shattered,
Do you remember,
Our laughter and blue stained fingers,
Our common goal, our only enemy,
The laden branches and brambles,
At the edge of your grandma’s garden?
44 words for this week’s Quadrille on d’Verse Poet’s Pub. The prompt: brambles.
Our voices smash against barren bedroom walls.
Questions, pleas, crash down upon the hallway floor
As we pass each other wordlessly.
The possible in life seems unlikely to us now.
We hear only the faintest, constant, drum beat,
And it metes out our days.
44 words for d’Verse quadrille.
Slid-sideways on marble, fell-tumbled at market
Sucking lemons is better than swallowing bitter pills.
No sleeve’s wide enough to wear that bloody heart.
Pouring sorrows over arching muddles
Like rain flooding gigantic puddles.
Silly isn’t it to waste a day being
bucolic,
melancholic,
alcoholic.
Closed window blinds hide her form from view,
Though a sliver of sunlight spies its way through
Dust motes.
It doesn’t matter.
Paper scratched, life-weary words flutter about,
Then fall away.
Her silent silhouette slumps,
Disappears.
Her heart’s voice breaks,
But no one hears.
44 words for this week’s dVerse Poets quadrille challenge: voice
Disappointments descend, flutter, circle down, surrounding me
Like autumnal crimson leaves fall to rest at the base of a maple tree
Like layers of discarded, crumbling leaves, covering me up
Like last night’s blankets and denied possibilities
Like last night’s dreams
Disappear
Like me.
44 words for this week’s d’Verse quadrille prompt: up
