He is every spoken word and every belief that he said he was against. A monster consumed with what can be bought, consumed with what shines in the light and is unseen and unheard of in the dark. He is everything I’ve loved and everything I now despise. No recollection of responsibility or meaning or means other than self-indulgence runs through his veins. He is cold, he is here and he is my biggest fear and regret, my purpose and my need all at the same time. He will never know what my words mean, how I cry out of fear of walking away to live happily without him. He will never know what it means, what anything meant. He will never know how I felt, how I feel, why I fight, why I cry…. He will never know because it can’t be bought. There is no price on my thoughts, no bartering on my heart and no trade on my feelings. He will never know whether I am here or I am gone.
Hour Ten
That smile…
The one that reaches your eyes,
The one that makes my heart swell,
The one I seldom see,
The one you only show to me.
That smile…
The one that you hide so well,
The one that brightens my darkest mood,
The one I would walk across fire for,
The one you don’t see, that’s only meant for me.
That smile…
The one I first saw so long ago,
The one that takes me right back there,
The one that makes me forget I’m angry,
The one that turns back time.
That smile…
The one that keeps us young,
The one that reminds me why I love you,
The one that makes me feel your love,
The one I want to see for the rest of my life…
That smile.
NAS Prompt 12
NAS Prompt 12 Moving
Moving on my own, determined and excited,
thrilling new adventure taught me
all the basic things new brides learn —
take charge of many household chores.
Moving into a home of our own
a two story home gave us lots of room
so we filled it with babies, every year or so
a home that the children still love.
Moving on, as in divorce, I did that once.
Misery and grief — survived and grew stronger
Eight years later, wounds had healed, kids had grown
chose a better match.
Moving through the familial losses —
Happy losses to marriages; I approved of every one.
The sad losses were in death; Mom and Dad and little Mari, too
Celebrate their lives, and let them go; to whatever Heaven holds.
by Nancy Ann Smith
(#7/12): “Elegy For Mum”
Mater lies before me.
Her earthly torments ceased.
No more half-breaths to take,
Eyes closed, in peace at last.
And yet, my tears do not run,
No wellsprings of regret.
Or mourning I perceive,
This curious absence of grief.
I never listened.
I never understood.
I never empathised.
I was never a good son.
You may think me cold.
Unfeeling, ungrateful,
The heart of a beast.
Yet Mother, I mourn thee.
© 2015 Silvester Phua
Hour 12
hate is such a powerful feeling
I can barely put it into words
to confess would be a crime
I realize that much
but the anger I feel towards you
is about to flood from the dam
give me a kiss
and I’ll give you one back
if I said I loved you
that would be a stretch
what is this that’s happening
you’re messing with the wrong girl
and I hate to say it
but I’m loving every minute
thank you for the time we spent
struggling to figure out what we were doing
The Path Most Forsaken
Two roads diverged
And one submerged
Below the route that all maps urged,
Where most would naturally go –
The overground pathway
Trampled underfoot toe by toe
By those who would not stray
And make their own way,
But down below
I chose to go
Where demon sprites
And hell-fire bright
Warned off the bravest souls.
I was sure I wouldn’t return
I was sure the way back would burn,
But what do you suppose I learned?
Oh, you’ll never know,
Along this path you’ll never go,
But believe me when I tell you this –
There are things you should not miss
Down there in that abyss.
(c) Gemma Hinton 2015
Poem#12 Unconventional Hero
Spectacles sparkling eyes … round and bright
Warm and contiguous smile … spreading sweet lullaby
Big Embrace … loving arms
Kind heart … pure and giving.
Not a hero … but always to his love ones
A father … a friend that extend
Not the most vocal … but sensitive and affecting
A lover … still trying and perfecting.
A funny soul … a sunshine of joy
Unconventional man … but never an option
Polite but not weak … kind but strong
He is my Mickey … my spider man in the making.
Paths
Broad is the road that leads to destruction
Majority travel along its path
It’s filled with those who believe such phrases like, ‘Whatever makes you happy’
Just because you feel it’s right doesn’t mean that it is
The world is full of ‘good people’
Whose lives end in tragedy
Thinking there’s no hereafter
No God, only the foolish believe
There is another path
Narrow and trim
Only those who hear and know the truth
Journey this faith driven bend
They follow after the Word of the Gospel
Receive adoption as children of the King
The 1st way can seem easier
But the 2nd is Heavenly security
I Used to Know A Guy Named Steve #11/24
I Used To Know a Guy Named Steve
Steve was a black man of thirty-five. He was greasy and had dandruff. He dressed very badly in black denim and cheap stretchy pullover shirts with three buttons center, top. He wore too much Drakkar Noir in an attempt to cover up the smell of sweat that clung to him always in the south Texas heat. He’d had a bad acne problem in high school. The scars were quite deep. His thick glasses were always smudged with fingerprints because he was always pulling and pushing on them. It was a nervous habit. And when he talked about his life in the music industry and how he’d just come from rehearsal, it was all a lie. He was really quite convincing with his musical knowledge, but someone had seen him slinging burgers at Maggie’s Restaurant on Blanco. Can’t say I was that surprised. I never brought it up. Steve had enough strikes against him for one guy. I decided to let him live his dream with me since no one else was buying it.