Memories

Hour Five (This one shows up on my profile before the end of the marathon but for some reason doesn’t show up on my activity feed. Is strange. Here is the screenshot of the original posting. Not sure what I fouled up on in posting…

The Memories Carried

Hour Five Memories tucked into my breast pocket left and close to my heart they flutter like eyelids just waking from slumber- fractured images play upon the screen of consciousness a remembrance and tribute to a life once lived the ancestors of self that passed…

Ride

weightless. Motion rising. Lift off. Heart racing. smiles form. Crying is heard. Fun and scary. Not for everyone.

The Desire To Be Truly Loved

Hour Twenty-Four (had to repost because I accidentally deleted the original that was posted at 8:44 am EST I had a horrible case of the dumb) It’s not so much about the carnal the jutting hips and softness of breast and the iron ripples of…

Prompt Twenty-Four – Because they Hope

Prompt Twenty-four – Text Prompt – Write a poem about hope.   Because they Hope   Hope is the best there is. Was she not the last one out of Pandora’s box? There is always hope, even against hope. Till the end, till the very…

The Restaurant of Poetry

Hour Twenty-Three My brain is pudding a casserole of deliberation charbroiled musings a culinary art. A souffle of hapless meanderings sticking to the bottom of the deadpan stare of a sleep-deprived wordsmith. I take the spatula of resolve and chisel away at metaphors- with eyes…

The Future

Hour Twenty-Two The future is written with invisible ink and solidified by the permanence of our choices and action.

World Chaos

Talking swords. Transforming and shifting cats. Dragons showing vain possessiveness. Fields of flowers miles long in between two factions. Hidden royals and copycats exposed. Murder, mystery, escape.  

Prompt Twenty-three – The Caveman Calls

Prompt Twenty-three – Text Prompt Write a poem about a world that is not this one.   The Caveman Calls   The cavemen had it good. They foraged for food, Collected their wood, and relied on their mood.   They drew on their cave wall,…

Stolen Heart – Hour Twenty-Three

Stolen Heart I have stolen the heart there within you You were likely saving it for somebody better Forgive me, but I do not regret it It is something I hold very dear And I do not plan on returning

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