Friday, February 14, 2014

The Cure (mini-challenge days 3 and 4)



 I brung a lung
to the doctor, snug
in its cage of ribs, raw
with a raging infection
of grief.

Relief was a brief
encounter; the doc proffered
a pill broke in two
and said a whole heart
would choke, would chark,
and so much better in pieces
to chew.

             And you like a fool
stood there smiling, all the whiling
I supped at your soul, sucking at sweet
sorrow-fed meat as if the masticant
beat of your loving entreaty
might heal.


Poet's Note:  This is days 3 and 4 combined.  Day 3 sort of stumped me at first.  How do I not write like myself?  By definition, I write like me...even trying not to.  I am still myself, always...even when I wish otherwise.  And I have at times wished otherwise.  Maudlin, maudlin, moving on.  But then I was looking at Day 4 and the illness challenge...and, well, this sort of came together on top of 'brung a lung' which I'd normally edit out before it ever hit paper. Decided to go with it...build on it...and I sort of liked the results...still me...but a slight wild-side-of-grammar me...please don't tell on me to any of my former English teachers!  

Let me know what you think.  Good, bad or ugly.  Promise I don't break.  :-)

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Nameless



Nameless,
shaped in stitches,
purpled cravat made
of remnants and haphazard
intent, I have traced your ears
with my fingers, pressed lips
to green cotton and felt
your hard round stare
buttoning my
dreams.


Poet's Note:  The prompt began with an exercise...to name five things without naming them...and then take at least one into a poem.  I made 5 little poems with mixed results.  I liked this one best.  If you're reading this and so inclined...I'm curious what you think I'm writing about here.  I don't think it's too mysterious...but then I have the advantage of knowing the answer!  :-)

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

On a Dirt Road



On a Dirt Road

The letters have eased
to rust, the battered mailbox
with its heavy tongue
disgorged, the forgotten dirt
road that used to lead us home.




Poet's Note:  A response to Poets on the Page Mini-Challenge Day 1.  A Tanka...or my attempt at a Tanka.  Happy Poeting!  ;-)