Prompt #7 – riff on viator form Mind a wild stallion snaking through switchback canyons rearing when startled unsure where to go lost in a desert of grief So that I breath in mind an unbroken stallion shy of other hands listening for your voice…
Category: Half Marathon Poem
marked and drawn
marked and drawn from on the mount eyes follow down marked and drawn they tarry forth and pray a great cloud of dust breaks the line from going on marked and drawn
Friends
A friend is someone you can talk to when you need someone to listen. A friend may not know all the answers, but they know how to help you find the right one for you. A friend may not always agree, but support is always…
A poem speaks – poem seven
When a poem speaks It paints me as angry, As something worth feeling, Chases me into the parted lips of noon My name etched in stone When a poem speaks The prophetic tongue, Sands heavy with infinite footprints Memories up and alive again,…
Aviator
Reach for the skies Climb higher, higher Powering into the blue Shake the earth as you Reach for the skies Achieving lift-off Aiming for the moon Begins with flying. Reach for the skies!
Hour Seven
Where your fragrance lingers I hear your voice. Your laughter aches my soul. My mind smiles where your fragrance lingers, tickling my thoughts with your memory. I don’t cry at all when I sense your presence where your fragrance lingers feeling your tender touch. I…
Hour 7 – The Swing
It is a wooden board held aloft by a double cordage of rope. The wind pushes the spirit of the girl who once was like an invisible hand. Once it stood on rough, dry ground where the metal poles were moored, But now a…
I’ll die in the night
Her duskiness is nigh I hear the mice crawling I will with a bottle of rum Bid my dad life good bye I know joy comes in the morning Only I may not make it to dawn Applying make up to bed I can’t die…
Hour Seven – 2023
2023: Unprompted, Hour Six [TRIGGER WARNING]. Days, Full of longing; In search of a Belonging, Evermore. I hear voices beyond doors, Not meant for me; though they call my name, with glee. Hope beckons a travesty; Nothing but more “lessons” to learn, as the last…
Heart Strings – Hour 7
My heart weakens every time I see her its walls fall down the very foundations crumble and I am helpless against it One by one the layers are stripped down until the beat is exposed it’s slow without rhythm lacking the oxygen to breathe The…