floating and leaving no trace
i couldn’t wait to leave this town
by mule or bus or wagon train
and let the memories all fade
the bells though never seem to fade
i hear them ringing from the town
above the mournful clacking train
clack of wheel on iron–o, train,
the distance should recede, should fade
the hallmark past, the breathing town
the town is here, the train just fades
——
the secret keeper
Weekly Writing Prompt #31
(5) Words: | TOWN | TRAIN | FADE | HEAR | HALL |
AND
As promised, I am posting me croaking out a poem. You can read the poem here, but really, let yourself be surprised.
I apologize for my voice. It is horrible.
veiled by a cloudbank
impenetrable fortress
moon beyond the fray
——
RonovanWrites
Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt
Challenge #91 Fray&Veiled
meat
from skin to bone
we swim
in heart thick gravy
we feast
upon each other
and ourselves
narcissistic cannibals
licking shiny lips
wiping greasy fingers
on our shirts
while we wonder
about
dessert
——
[the] bullnose bride
[served] atomic flamingos
[severed] legs [and] eggs
[and the dreaded] forbidden
chocolate dragon’s tongue
“[oh] mary”, [said] pascal
[her newly married husband]
“[this] explosive breakfast
[makes me] blue
bianca [prepared] custard d’argenteuil
[for] casper”
[with] egg [and] ember
[and much] panache
[the] bullnose bride
[served] pascal
[an] heirloom viking pan
[up side the] pumpkin
——
in like a lion
march is a murderer
masquerading softly
like a lamb
offering dreams
and whispers of dreams
its maw filled with teeth
a thousand mouths
ten thousand tongues
bleating soft poisonous lies
——
i was your biggest fan
i followed your every move
every performance
every public utterance
all your social media accounts
when we met i froze
my hands wouldn’t work
and my mouth wouldn’t work
i swear it was like
i had been chewing on bees
you didn’t wait for me
to snap out of it
offered no reassuring smile
just a quick look at your watch
and you were gone
your flunky pressing a poster
into my hands
i have your poster still
i signed it for you
“to my biggest fan”
——
a family of magicians
wear tuxedos
–even the baby–
have squirting flowers
in their coat lapels
and rabbits for pets
mom is the one to get sawn
in two by dad
night after night
though when he is out of town
his understudy puts his hands
to the blade
grampa goes in the woven basket
while gramma drives in swords
one after another
always asking about the salad
was it all right
and where did he put her
social security check
i do the rope trick
climb it every night
and wait for the disassembly
that is bound to repeat
——
you give me a smile
your warmth spreads
wish i could wear it
the empty sky hangs X like an inheritance
above my head X no one wants to collect
red and decaying X trifles and mementos
these memories aren't X meant for burial
what i expected X or deserving of cremation
——
Words and Feathers 