Hour 7
August
Sunflower boon.
The perfect alchemy of light.
Soft touch of summer dusk.
August’s leaving grace.
A swing set for one.
A setting made for two.
Mine
Since I saw you,
I read your texts,
I laughed with your
ideas,
seen your
cold blue eyes,
I realized,
I want you
with me.
Your strength
is mine,
your charisma
is mine,
your dilemma
is mine,
your skin
is mine,
your lips
are mine,
your body
is mine
and I am yours.
Hour #8: Clear Moonshine
While in the south
when we were young
before computers
we asked around.
We learned of blue laws
while in the south
We were so young,
we wanted moonshine.
We met new friends,
living in a trailer.
While in the south
we found moonshine.
We drank together,
becoming quickly smashed.
Drink lots of water
while in the South.
Hour 7: Mortality and Moonlight
What I Know for Sure About Mortality
Is that there is no age limit on backyard games because will all become ground, tree, or grass and it is always kind to get to know your neighbors
That nothing hits the soul quite like moonlight on water because it is to witness a great force as seen by the one it pulls upon
That we have already discovered time travel because knowing the past is as close as we will ever get to seeing the future
That there is a big difference between starting a call with I love you and ending a phone call with I love you but that both hold the same fear for a dial tone
And if you watch a full plane in turbulence it looks just like the swaying crowd of a concert pit because in both hold the same freedom from anything else that matters
That Mary was not told her son would die because women have never been trusted with knowledge, but have always been trusted to hold others’ pain
And finally, that a grand final act can be a sip of orange juice or a smile because the small pleasures are all we get
Because the small pleasures are all we ever need.
That girl.
See that girl,
The one with the smile?
Do you know she’s been hurting for a while?
She was the butterfly who had her wings pricked
She is the rose that burned
She cried herself to sleepless nights
Just wishing it would stop
She watched her heart in pieces
Watched them chisel away from her
She watched her hands bleed
From all the cuts and tear
She just wanted a warm embrace
And someone to wipe her tear.
You see that girl,
Who keeps everyone smiling?
She’s the girl who lost her smile.
Now she’s standing beside the window,
Playing memories of
How a mere five year old
Lost her happiness.
Now she stands here,
Trying to voice the voiceless
Trying to speak for people called weak
Those who are ridiculed everyday
The ones who have nothing to say.
Prompt 4 Tá Brón Orm
Tá brón orm –
The sorrow is on me.
I’m sorry sounds so much better in Irish than English.
Tá brón orm.
I started this marathon late.
My house had some flooding last night.
Tá brón orm.
The cable guy is repairing the signal and I can’t access the internet.
Tá brón orm.
I’m drawing a blank on words and ideas are not flowing today.
The sorrow is on me
Tá áthas orm –
Joy is on me.
The sun rose today.
My leak wasn’t too bad.
Someone helped me move boxes.
My cable is being fixed.
I have cellular service and can type from my phone.
I’m meeting friends for dinner.
Tá áthas orm – Joy is on me.
Own It All
Nobody really likes Monopoly–
not even the winner.
The promise of lighthearted capitalist competition starts off seeming like it will be fun.
The players pick the pieces that will bring them luck in this game of chance.
They all start with the same amount of money and the same probability of owning it all.
All
because being satisfied with having enough lacks showmanship.
But the drama drags too long, and that’s why
nobody really likes Monopoly.
The banker gets bored with the endless trading, borrowing, and mortgaging.
After a while, the sad faces of the poor become exhausting to look at,
And the banker leaves the game an hour into his shift.
Insults turn personal as an underhanded player fairly buys New York
knowing that the other two orange properties belong to an upwardly mobile opponent.
Accusations of rampant greed fly as a housing shortage ensues.
The railroad owners side-eye the utility owners.
The boardwalker stalks her Park Place with heavy lids
knowing that with three hotels, not a soul would announce his visit.
Three hours in, players get hungry but don’t trust each other enough to leave and get a snack.
One-by-one the destitute escape the clutches of this “game” and walk towards sweet freedom,
leaving the successful players to fight among themselves.
It’s lonely at the top when playing Monopoly.
People lie and plot.
No one rejoices when you rejoice or weeps when you weep.
The illusion of riches wears off too soon after the win.
Winners learn that it was never about community; it was only ever about a chest that exists only in theory.
The winner is left surrounded with paper and plastic, but
no one to share it with and nothing of substance to show for it except
empty hotels, a toppled dog, and deeds that no one cares about anymore.
Winners have to pick up the wreckage in this game of chance.
This is one of the only game where winning necessities an apology tour, and that is why
nobody really likes Monopoly.
Too Much
Some days feel like too much.
Some days not enough.
Some days are easy breezy.
Some days seem extra tough.
Some days we dance on waking.
Some days feel like too much.
Sometimes the only difference.
Is the feel of love-warmed touch.
Some days we wish were shorter.
Some days we wish would never end.
Some days feel like too much.
And we seek comfort in a friend.
Some days are full of sunshine.
Some nights are lost in loving touch.
We must cling to those sweet feelings, because
Some days feel like too much.
Prompt 4 – Together to Alone
Unions I have known attempted conjugal paths hammered and etched of steel and glass Blissful beginnings torturous lessons dragging one or the other off course Promises of better blink in the headlight while hope from the past fades in the rearview mirror Rage against loss of what was only a potential unrealized The shiny blink Beckoned to me and a hundred others Eventually fading away Alone now learning to love the only one I can trust
Just my Opinion
In my opinion there are some who confuse love with other emotions and such; things like obsession, possession and control. None of these things are components of love. Love has nothing to do with hate or the devil.
I do not believe that there is a line that exists between hate and love that allows the excuse that love can turn into hate. Can love change? Sure. Love changes still have to do with love. Love can change from love of a mate to love of that same person as a friend, or love of that person as someone you once shared your life with. But if you claim to hate someone you claim to love then it wasn’t really love.
God did not destroy the people of earth because he hated them. He destroyed them because they didn’t know love. They were lustful and evil and non believers in God. They were hypocrites. He watch the power of Mephistopheles growing and growing.
Now, here we are once again. Another chance to love and live and what are we doing? And where is God in what we are doing? It’s a good time to reevaluate what’s going on before it happens again.
God Loves Us