chilly, whispered wind
shivering midnight snowman
winter’s new best friend
——
RonovanWrites
Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt
Challenge #90 Friend&Shiver
Tag: writer
Poem 20160327
the signs were all there
scratched sofa and feathered toys
beware of the cat
——
Poem 20160326
strands of web
lock me in this place
like a fly
i wait for
my own apex predator
this night full of stars
companions
in the blackened sky
i don’t know
how i lost
or why now as the web sings
–a plucked violin–
thoughts of you
your laughter and tears
one more star
my spider–
i won’t leave a scratch, she says
as she now leans in
——
the secret keeper
Weekly Writing Prompt #29
(5) Words: | WEB | LOST | BLACK | SCRATCH | LOCK |
Poem 20160325
the gentle shower
rain falling in the morning
plays its window song
——
RonovanWrites
Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt
Challenge #89 Shower&Play
Poem 20160324
the woods still sigh, the owls still weep
in the darkness, dark shadows creep
and thoughts of you still fill my head
the fallen trees run black with mold
the silent leaves no longer gold
a sweet, low song fills me with dread
i left you here cold in the ground
with shuttered eyes, you made no sound
yet there you stand, though you are dead
——
Jane Dougherty Writes
Poetry challenge #23: Nove otto
Happy Early Halloween!
Poem 20160323
the fighter wraps his wrists
each tight wind of cloth
a means to focus his rage
down into the hammers
of his hands
he channels the acid
fermenting in his gut
back up into his mouth
where it turns into venom
swirling around the razors
that are his teeth
and his eyes are flames
heat without smoke
so hot that there
will never be ashes
Poem 20160322
watching for hours
slowly, slowly without wings
the orange moon flies
——
Poem 20160321
extruded from my own life
like a play doh snake
i await my new skin
with trepidation
will it be scales this time
or flames
or just ashes
transformation is
always like childbirth
only you’re forcing yourself
out of your own birth canal
–if you have one–
and you’re never really sure
what’s coming
until it’s out
Poem 20160320
i want to touch you
with my hands
and then
i want you to touch me
a simple exchange of heat
between two lovers
enough heat
so that we have to
throw off the sheets
Poem 20160319
musty motel, the bedsprings groan
my suitcase and a broken phone
the voice i hear forever moans
never alone, never alone
my pocket’s full of finger bones
worn smooth like ancient magic stones
guarded by shrouded, cackling crones
shrill monotones, shrill monotones
outside the blackbirds all have flown
inside blossom the seeds i’ve sown
the shadows growl, calls the unknown
a blank headstone, a blank headstone
Words and Feathers 