Constant

Let the breeze billow the curtains,
Let the light and warmth favour us,
Let the joy tickle our bare skin.

We may doubt this glorious constant,
But nature’s life cycle, renewing possibilities, revisiting brief serenity,
Repeats until we are no more. Then repeats again.

Rain

We huddle cuddle close in the peeling-paint-framed-storefront,
Sheltered briefly, only briefly, from the sideways stares of passersby.
Safe from showers, drip drip rain that stains the sidewalk,
And washes away the pastel chalky hopscotch
We drew to decorate our unfeathered nest.

44 words for this week’s d’Verse prompt: rain.

Photo taken by Reza Shayestehpour.

 

Back Alley Apple Jacks

Harold lives contentedly, his neighbors not included.
He sees their dreams of grandeur, grandly self-deluded.

Locals squirm and shiver, don’t know how to dress amid the general squalor.
Harold Haberdasher goes to work, grabs stumbling apple jacks by the collar,

Turns them into genuine gentlemen
Even gentle Benjamin
With his quirky regimen

Of gritty diner coffee and high voltage special Ks,
His lucky charms of power for surviving lightless days.

Crack sidewalk traffic staggers, this street life ain’t for kids
It’s iron-taste-in-the-mouth nonexistence on these back alley skids.

Lillian at dVerse Poets Pub asked for some brand name noodling.  My inspiration was Special K which as most of you will know is street language for the horrible drug Ketamine. I mixed up the rhyme scheme to match the mixed up world of the setting. 

Submerge

He didn’t glance back before falling forward
Into the still unknown of shocking cobalt.
Crystalline blue.

No one there to fuss or hold him
No one to cry out at just the right moment
Into the midnight afternoon breeze –
Please stay.

For those he’d loved always, eventually
Let go of his hand.
Left him stranded.
Cast away.

And when he realized this, his fate
He’d grieved. Hardened.
Become impenetrable stone.
Then (against even the quirkiest laws of nature)
Frozen to fragile ice, cracked, shattered.

If not submerged within this serene, sharp sapphire
Where else was he meant to be?

Written for dVerse, an ekphrastic poem responding to a work of art. Here that work is a beautifully complex, yet simple, evocative painting by Fay Collins

Zip-line

Zippo snaps, sparks the flame,
Essential for this daily tinder routine.

Zig zags contain dusty, seedy remains of
His birthday stash from Lex and Jean.

Dad’s lighter, used over years
Engraving’s worn off and disappeared.

What a crazy old ride from cigar to spliff.

Photo by Evan Phillip on Unsplash

Written for this week’s quadrille prompt on d’Verse: use some form of the word ‘zip’.

Fledgling

Fourteen.
My days as dangerous and echoing as a tin with razor sharp edges thrown into the bin.
Then summer. You.
Your free spirit like birdsong, trilled,
Found me, loved me, filled my world to bursting.
Egg shells cracked mosaic-like,
Fledgling life peaked through.

For Monday’s d’Verse Quadrille prompt: Egg

Damage

Sinewed hands grab my shoulders, shove me sideways down unfamiliar streets.

Glowing in the distant dark there shimmers a landed mermaid, enchanting, enticing,

Melting in the tarnished silver spoon I wasn’t born with.

Burns my hands. Burns my veins.

Soundless, the world is ash.

44 words (quadrille) for d’Verse. Prompt word: burn