Astray
Fierce intentions,
misguided by ones love.
Refuse to give sight,
To what has never begun.
Help Poem 13
I have lost it
It’s gone
Can’t find another word
Can’t write another sentence
It’s too much
I can’t
I have to scramble now
Old challenges
Plagerism
Give me a word, someone
Give me a word
Anything
I have lost it
Not another word
Not another sentence
Make it end
Make it go away
I hate poetry
Someone give me an idea!
Quick….I need a poem!
It’s Not Real…or Is It?
A place where nobody cares.
A place where everyone swears.
A place where people can lie.
A place where they want you to die.
Everyone’s worst nightmare.
But it’s not real…or is it?
Ancient ones I implore you
“Oh ancient ones
My mild plea will not
Make you feel guilty
My intent is loving
Not that I think
You should care much…”
“You had best let be”
I heard from a monstrous
Throated voice
“There is no maid that
I could ascertain would
Ever go with you willingly”
Anguished with guilt
I cringed
And prepared to incur
Yet more guilt
Benumbed with despair
Marianne stirred
The aging coals in the fire
And brushed her soft curls
Out if her large limpid eyes
As the villain and
The ancient ones
Bargained for her fate
A Maddening Love
“A Maddening Love”
What can I say?
What may I do for you?
Name it, it is yours.
For I am no more than a slave,
A tramp, a handmaiden, a lover,
A whore, a bitch, a mother, a friend, and a soul mate.
Whatever you want me to be.
However, I can no longer stand the slander.
Each word uttered tears at my heart,
Rips me to pieces.
Realization whips me across the face,
Something is amiss.
Memories whiz through my mind,
Too many drugs,
Addiction, affliction,
Twisted, tainted,
Slanted, and warped.
It dawns on me how utterly hopeless this all is.
I am all you said and much more.
The Raging and Consuming War of The Poetics
Part XV
still deafened by the welling fluids,
my vision is now under attack from like fluids;
tears are falling even though I have
commanded them not too –
a direct command – unheeded – laughing at me;
the poppies take on a new shape through tears,
like ingested peyote buttons,
things begin to morph and confusion increases;
– Michellia D. Wilson 8/23/14 10 PM
Prompt for Hour Fifteen
Write a lyrical poem that rhymes – it must not contain any narrative.
sober
one last beast to tame
you sleep on the sober side of
the bed with her snuggled close
while others try not to remember
Robbed
He jumped the counter
holding a knife,
grabbed the teller,
threatened her life,
all for money
and a bit of revenge,
angry at life,
and what it gave him,
the whole event,
over in a flash,
the after effects
much longer than that,
he didn’t get away,
within minutes he was caught,
punished for three months
while the teller is still fraught,
with the horror, the pain,
a completely senseless act,
he threatened her life,
does anyone care about that?
The cliff
When I thought the world of you the universe caved in. Thought if you were my confidant found out you weren’t my friend. I dreamed of you believed in you put faith beyond the sky. I trusted you jumped off the cliff then realized I couldn’t fly.