7.
WHAT IF OUR WORDS ARE ONLY
Images
&
Emotions
mELtiNG tHe iNSiDeS
of our hearts, until we are empty
like the body of a guitar that only
SINGSSHOUTSSHREDSSLIDESSPEAKS
when pluck’d
Cheetazellous
Stalking, insidious.
Walking, meticulous. Crouch.
Cheetah getting hungry, and ready.
Gazelles look delicious.
The last one started to go
It was too late, slow, dull.
Quite surprising, that
those older gazelles sure can run.
What a match, met and set
No way to ever know what would happen but
it started snarling
running
mouth agape,
tearing at the screaming,
salival and dreaming,
sweat and the bleeding.
It was only a young one but my how it ate.
Such a sight can only exist outside of time
out of mind, muddled memory
but the picture is crisp and clear:
Murder happened here.
I got it on film.
7. Inside out
She turned her life inside out
How you might ask
She went in to her cobweb filled brain
She swept thoroughly and left it clean
A new slate one might say
She bought the most expensive portion
To stick the broken bits of her heart together
This took time but it had to be done
Last but not least for she still had miles to go and hills and valleys to climb and descend
She bought herself a new dress and walked to the park
And watched the fountain dance to the wind
And the birds sing to each other
She turned her life inside out
Hour 7
Already on the 7th poem!! I can’t believe I have already made it this far!! I could probably do slightly longer poems but I am happy with what I am writing.
Missing You
I hear your voice and I look up
My eyes follow you through the room
Mind racing all thoughts on you
Breathing deeply to calm myself
Taking careful steps to you
Leading my heart forward
Finally letting myself try
Trying for what I have wanted
Something more with you
Even if it has been a while since I’ve seen you
7 – my maze –
My echoes called in on the way to yesterday
I think the pretty little verses have gone and lost their way,
if you find them hanging out, don’t let them stop and play,
send them home immediately so l can rest today.
-s.j.duncan-
where silence lives
where silence lives
The spaces in between thoughts –
that’s where silence lives
or wisdom
or something I will never get to because my mind won’t stop filling with your eyes
or the memory of your whispers in my hair.
I try to get back to those spaces in between thoughts
but there is no more silences in my head.
Those spaces are filled with grains of sand and sea shells and sunsets
and the scent of coconut and sunshine.
The spaces in between thoughts –
that’s where you live so no one can find you and steal you
or force you into places accessible by day light.
I like you best in darkness and shadow
where my skin glows with the light with which you filled me
by the light of our bodies
and the stillness of our longing
I find you –
I find you in those spaces between thoughts
and desires –
for all I wanted and didn’t know I needed
in those silences between thoughts.
R. L. Elke
© Aug 5/17 prompt 6
PC for Old
Marketers fear loss of fixed income spending.
We become Senior Citizens.
We buy the Silver insurance plans.
We become mature and vintage,
Classic not antique.
We’re “of a certain age”.
What age is that?
We’re timeless and ageless beauties.
Sexagenarian has the word “sex”.
These are the Golden Years.
I’ll still spend my social security checks
Without the condescending bull shit.
Give me my Old Lady Discount.
I earned it.
It’s not profanity;
Please call me “Old”.
prompt seven
Walk away from me
So I can see you
Hands of a lover or do they smother
My soul seems blurry
Walk away from me
So we can get closer
I need to breathe
In order to feel
Walk away from me
Just for a bit
I need hands free in order to see
Will I miss you?
Or do I just miss me?
Poem 7: Inside thoughts
Say what you want,
and speak your mind,
be it the most hateful desire
or vengeful act of crime.
Even a selfish wish,
as you yourself may find
may be worth pursuing
for the sake of this short time.
The Beginning is the end. Prompt 7
If I bring you the whole bush
It’ll be a chill time
But I know better now
I hope you like these flowers
Words are fun to write
Here is where it starts
Words are out of sight
Picking them took hours
I’ll bring you the whole Bush somehow.
Just another way to kill time.
The flowers won’t die or smush.