Friday, April 29, 2011

Friday Flash 55

The Face of Darkness

I saw the darkness
and it saw me
It grasped me 
in blind, black fingers
holding me helpless
in unyielding grip

The darkness laughed
daring me to resist its will
smiling at my feeble efforts
to break free to light

It showed me its face
human in every conceivable way

My muse has been on hiatus or, actually, it's been held in restraints by time, or the lack thereof.  Feels good to get back to things.  This is being shared with the good folks over at One Stop Poetry for Friday Poetically, and with The G-Man at Mr. KnowItAll for Friday Flash 55.  Be sure you check both of them out.  Thanks for reading.

Monday, April 11, 2011


It's Form Monday over at One Stop Poetry.  This week, they're exploring Shadorma with Anne Welch. Since I discovered One Stop Poetry, I've been having a great time experimenting with forms and the many challenges they offer!  Shadorma is a syllabic poem with six lines and the structure 3/5/3/3/7/5.  I enjoyed trying it out and I'm looking forward to doing more.  This could become one of my favorite forms!  Here are my untitled efforts:

My Shadow
shady companion
dark psyche
cryptic self
hiding in murky fissures
of identity

Unformed soul
silent terror waits
in darkness
to grasp in evil fingers
the heart of mankind

Saturday, April 9, 2011



My light, disturbed sleep
Fraught with your vague, blurred image
Soft breath wakens me
No longer a yearned-for dream
Your spirit haunts my true realm

*This poem, my first attempt at the poetic form of  Tanka, is in response to Saturday Celebration at One Stop Poetry.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Inspiration: Happy Birthday, Russell Crowe


The world's a rough place
It judges a man
Can't be too hard or too soft
It's not part of their plan

Not allowed to break down
The world won't forgive
They'll remind you of it
To the last day you live

Truth is, they can't stand-

To see such a man
A man who won't bow down
Who won't play their game
A man who's not easily bound

They can't forgive you
For not seeing things their way
They blame you for being
Everything that they're not
And they're bent on making you pay.

But you don't let them break you-

You live your own life
That's the way you find grace
It's there in your eyes
It's written all over your face

The toughest thing a man can do
Can be to take a stand
But you do it every day
Yet can still hold out a hand

With  your work and your words
Every day you inspire
With a heart full of love
And a soul filled with fire

*Happy Birthday and Happy Anniversary to my favorite poet--to someone who never fails to inspire me--Russell Crowe.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Heavenly Goddess

Heavenly Goddess

The moon imagined her hair
impossibly long,
a wild, icy white in the biting breeze.

Her piercingly blue eyes
aglow amidst the jungle
of wintry, white stars.

Pale, slender limbs
entangled in the heavens
as she pointed accusingly earthward

Denouncing her impotent subjects.
Holding them to burden
for her every shameless indiscretion.

 My entry for both One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry and Day #5 of National Poetry Month at Not Without Poetry. With thanks to  Prompts For Writers for the words which inspired me.

Monday, April 4, 2011

In Good Time

In Good Time

Love comes all in good time
his mother had told him.
But now, as he gazed at the beautiful,
ethereal-looking woman
lying in perfect repose on his bed
he knew it wasn't true.
It was not a good time
to discover he loved her.
He had just murdered her.

*Written for National Poetry Month at Not Without Poetry.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Her Perfect Man

Shucking her robe
dressed only in heels and her perfect, gleaming skin
she gazed raptly, but calculatingly, at her creation.

Her perfect man.

She had brought him to vital, breathing life
only a brief week before.
Every night out since had been a dream.

Her perfect man.

No matter where she chose to go, what she chose to do
he was the ideal date.
Would, forever, be the flawless companion.

Her perfect man.

This evening would be no different
Another unmatched social event.
Her escort was already impeccably dressed
The only question remaining now-

Voicing her most immediate concern-
"What face shall I give him this evening?"
She had narrowed her choices to six
Perfectly aligned along the top of her bureau
all awaiting her final decision.

Humming softly
she filed her nails and considered
the possibilities before her,
pausing for a moment with a slight frown
to adjust the almost imperceptible
slant to his otherwise faultless bow tie.

Her perfect man.

*This poem was written in response to a prompt by Kirsty Logan at Not Without Poetry for National Poetry Month.

A Picture of Goodbye

Upon seeing you, the camera and I blinked once, collecting your pale, solitary beauty forever.  The bold, teal hue of your flower reflected the image of the resolute woman within, revealing your serene face, as well as the strength and courage in your eyes. Neither of us knew it would be the very last photograph.

*This story is my first foray into Flash Fiction 55, in response to the One Stop Poetry Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge at One Stop Poetry.  The picture prompt is by photographer and poet India Hobson.

Saturday, April 2, 2011



I tried in vain to shut out life
     to keep it from my door.
Yet in it came, with all its strife,
     to complicate things more.

Uninvited causes, uninvited sounds,
uninvited people
crossed my silent bounds.

All attempts to scorn them
   proved to no avail.
Once alone in quiet solitude,
   now cacophony prevailed.

To my awe and consternation,
   though uneasiness was rife,
I came to reconcile myself
   to this thing called life.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Fearful Dawn

Fearful Dawn

Dawn's hesitant light creeps into the sky,
as though fearing the return of last night's vicious thunder.
Accompanying rose-petal clouds,
bravely challenging the anger of their steel-grey brethren.
Once more, the calm clarity of day
declares her equality over rival night,
lying in feral, hungry wait
for his opportunity to hunt once again.