The Watchtower

The Watchtower

The watchtower of ages
mighty and tall
overlooking the vast expanse
and below
life as it is
unaware of its fall

Hour 20

@varenyas

Text Prompt -Poem 18 Platinum Jubilee

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Faces moving left and right, up and down,
the universal human pattern.
Eyes and mouth, curled up, curled
down and the various shades
of meaning.
An immediate thing- instinct-
it does not occupy the same space as words.
Paired with words
the signal gets confused.

Hour #20

I traveled into the town

to buy the fabric needed for a gown

But when I arrived

I was told I was too late

Hour 20 – The Woman with the Top Hat – Text Prompt

The Woman with the Top Hat

She stood outside Buck’s Cafe
Rain or shine she stood every day
The woman with the Top Hat
What stood out about her was not her hat
Fashion is as fashion wants
But the fact that she never stopped
Holding it,
That woman with the top hat
Ne’er was it upon her head
Nor on the bench or table
Ne’er did she let it go
Nor did she seem able
To understand the offer given
By an innocent hatbox maker
For her,
The woman with the top hat
To put it inside a box
And protect it from the elements
There she stood, rain and shine alike
Ne’er moving with Watchers in sight
The Woman with the Top Hat
Til last Friday when a man
Took it from her and put it on.
The woman sighed with some relief
And went about her day
And the man turned round and left
Normalcy returned
To Buck’s Cafe

The Watchtower

The paper cover weekly magazine

Jehovah’s Witness, use as their devotional

Some are not friendly, to them because they In an effort to

Share their religion, they offend others

Because they aggressively force their

Religious literature in your face

Rarely are they met with friendliness

As individuals seek to process their different attitudes towards the Watchtower.

Hour Ninteen- Humiliation

 

legs exposed?

humiliation headed my way

 

Source: A blackout poem culled out from Pg. 34 from the novel Looking for Alaska by John Green.

Lovesong for Bristol

City night of stars and dancing,
City bright with voices laughing,
Thank you for the hillside places
Where I’ve watched the storms roll in;
Thank you for the hidden spaces,
Secret to keep memories in.
I have stood with heart in wonder,
I have skipped in roaring thunder
Safe within your bastion walls,
Your towering art, your gentle falls
Of water down the cobbled streets
When rain and rays of sun beat down
In wild veils, adorned the town
With weather like a dancing partner
And dragons in the wind.

Hour #19–Haiku

Rustling grasses

Gentle and soothing to me

Speak like hollow reeds

Smile

Some days

Move

Independently

Limiting

Experiences