PS

Dear Dad,

I forgot to ask you 
- Parent to parent -
What was the point?
I don’t understand.
You were a hardworking and diligent person.
You found honor in providing for your family.
Why so mean? So unapproachable? 
So.... juvenile?
We weren’t in a competition, 
and I want you to know that.
I don’t know what kind of competition 
We could be in fairly.
But let me be perfectly clear.
You didn’t win.
I’m not sure why you didn’t know that.
I’m not sure why you were so sad,.
so bitter.
It doesn’t matter any more,
unless it does.
It is still a mystery to me
Even after all these years.
Maybe I’ll write again. 
Would you like that?
Or is it still painful to listen to 
your own daughter.
Let me know.
Love, 
Laurie

Hello Darkness- Hour 19

Hello Darkness my old friend

I’ve come to talk with you again

We have done this so many times Darkness

We truly are old friends

Paul Simon knew what he was talking about

I have delved into so many consequences

Philosophies, regrets, personal testimonials

I have been frightened of you at times

Other times you sooth my soul

These days you a refuge from the heat of the day

And the long hours of sunlight and work anguish

I have had those visions softly creeping

Dreams, nightmares, imaginings, epiphanies

Darkness my old friend

I hope you can get me through again

Lend me your simple wisdom

Within the Sounds of Silence

Your voice comes thru

Teaching me, taunting me, but always honest

in your reflection.

Oh, Dear…

Dear Unmentionable Organization

Whose unjust nature creates

Hell from a handbasket,

Look, this wasn’t my idea, you know…

The 1962 thing.

All I did was stick out my tongue

Trying to make the son of a bitch laugh.

I was a toddler, for God’s sake!

Just a loving little girl

Who thought everyone in the world

Loved her back.

I expected a hug,

And a smile.

And we got an attack.

Now, tell me that isn’t crazy.

Please.

I’m trying to figure it out.

You see, I’m all grown up now,

Nearly sixty years old,

Though that opportunistic freak

You called a leader said otherwise.

So, let’s face it, Bro…

Although, you say we’re all in this

Together….

You and I both know we’re not.

Out here, we’re adults.

We admit when we’re wrong,

And we know when we’re right.

We’re fair, and we seek justice.

You, on the other hand,

We’re not so sure that these

Mountains of molehills are all that

Forward thinking

Relative to the good of the world.

We disagree that

Embarrassment over not really being

The Greatest

Is all that big a deal in the grand

Scheme of things.

Everyone else knows we’re not,

After all; so, who is being fooled

By whom?

The answer to that is you,

And you.

Full circle.

The circle of crazy.

Waving flags at one another

To the point that all are blinded

By the cloth.

Quite a circus you’ve got going on there

In those “great” halls.

Now, if we could get some adults

In the show…

Just Jump! (prompt 22, Hour 18)

Dear one with the silver hair,

Your baby days are past, and all your children gone.
But you are not a shriveled husk, some dried nut whose life is done.
You wear white hair like a badge of glory.
Bravo! Only those who burned in the fire
have lived all the colors that merge into white.
How beautiful you are
even with wrinkles and sagging skin.
Each line is a story someone needs to hear.
Each fold of your neck hides a place where love begins.
Even if you still have devils, they cannot steal your show.
You know their weaknesses, and
You are alive in a way the young can never know.

Freed from the slavery of hormones
you are liberated for the last third of your life,
able to start remembering who you were before
the years when reproduction brought its strife.
That was you in your purest form back then, and now
you have circled back to the dreams that truly matter.
Be bold! Go back to school and learn what you love.
Get out and help the souls who tug at your heart.
Bring your joy to those whose joy has died.
You are powerful, you are limitless, you have time.
Like some brave frail bird you can soar above life
to the edge of infinity, free at last to be
and answer only to the calling of your heart.
Don’t hold back. Don’t be shy. There’s no time like now.
Jump, dear one, jump! Your wings are ready .

Cruelty (A Lune, Hour Nineteen)

Cruelty

you laugh when I cry

cruelty

my pain, your pleasure

 

 

(A lune is also known as American Haiku and follows the three line format with a syllable count of 5/3/5.)

 

 

 

The Moon has a Scent

The Moon has a Scent
Virginia Carraway Stark

Night blossoming
Moon flower
Palest ivory
Lemon ice
Scented jasmine
The smell of water
The heat of the night
Secret oasis
Bring me here again
In your arms
Hold me tight
My heart is pounding
Can you feel it?
Or is your pulse
Beating in time with mine?
Roses sleep, there heads nodding
In a late, full moon breeze
Mingling their velvet scent
With the brown of sandalwood
The ivory of jasmine
And the way our hearts beat as one
The water cooling our thirst
(but not our thirst)
Sand baking into our bare feet
“I can smell the moonlight” I say,
And you laugh, because no one can, of course
But in that moment everything has a scent to me
Even the moon flavors the air faintly
Of apricots and figs, vanilla sorbet
Girls are so silly
The night is getting hotter
I can see my breath
Tonight’s the night for love
In the secret oasis
Where everything has a scent

Prepare

do you feel it, quicken your pace
it is behind you giving chase.
soon it will be here are you ready.
will you be able to hold close and steady.
don’t let it find you just anyplace.

or you may vanish without a trace.
or even worse you’ll be replaced.
remember this is an adversary.
do you feel it,

do you think it is a wraith,
or is it due to your disgrace,
maybe an enemy’s mercenary
could this all be ancillary
whatever it is it seeks embrace
do you feel it?

All The Colors II [Prompt 23 – 24]

All the colors …

All the pain …

And the psychedelic warms;

my image grows clearer …

Oh glory, I am starting too see …

me!

The unknown artist found me …

amongst the mess;

the road less …

the hidden woman;

the death of her …

the birth of me!

An image of she …

whom

is beginning

to be.

 

Prompt 24 Hour 19

I was

not born

to kneel to

the chaos

within me

I was born to,

rule it.

Poem from The Wild Keeps Her Holy by Tiffany Aurora.

 

For all I

have seen

have been

and will be,

Their crown

cannot shatter me.

 

C. Churchill

 

Free Thinking-Part Two

Standing outside
     The cool wind makes me shiver
     The darkness envelopes me
     The clouds make the shadows flicker
          The night gets deeper.
I close my eyes
     I smell the rain in the air
     I smell the damp grass
     I smell new construction
          The night is fuller.
I walk slowly
     The fatigue makes me sway in place
     My entire form feels limp
     My mind tries to shut down.
          The night gets longer.
I stand still
     The birds have gone to bed
     The rabbits are all resting
     The dog is sound asleep
          The night continues on.