“Sarcasm”

Proud, strutting peacock, bilious scream.  Your noisy scene affronts my ears; then my brain. If chatter your device for breaking ice,  then your attempt for cool now goes astray.  Sarcastic jester, fool upon your stage. As partner in your play,  I’ve  disengaged. Photo Credit: Made Hery Santosa

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“Growing Old”

<img src=”http://yeahwrite.me/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/moonshine.png”&gt; “Growing Old” I drive Carol to work this am. She surprises me with: “If I have a ride home tonight with Ron, you will not hear from me. If I need a ride , I will call you. Ya got that, Mom?” No, I don’t “get it” but say nothing. When will I…

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“What is the Time, Please?”

“What Is the Time, Please?” We’re here so our time is Now. Our dreams,  fleet-footed as the stars, race across the universal swirl and form a figure-eight,  return to open space where there’s no future nor a past. We’re left in sacred pause to whirling, endless Now.

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Where Have All the Flowers Gone? (42 word poem)

(photo by Michael Bartlett) “Where Have all the Flowers Gone?” Eighty blossoms crushed in a Ukraine field. Early budding heads now suckle in a sea of mud. Eighty children, burnished, bled in a meadow. Their little leaves now shed burnt away by the madness of man and war…gone… all gone away. (of the 298 aboard…

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“Where Have All the Flowers Gone?”

“Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” Our land is thick with thistle and with thorn dead bodies lace the meadow newly stripped. The air now wracked with twisted metal born and steaming clods upon the blackness slip. So crush`ed is the early budding heads who suckle now among a sea of mud. Men plunge, protected…

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“The Parting”

Linking to the HOST“The Parting” It was the perfect day; sun-shiny bright. My baby in his car seat takes a nap. Our day is glowing; not a cloud in sight. The traffic on the interstate, a snap. I park and in the elevator dream of visions: his first birthday party planned. My morning rushes short…

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“The Unforgiven”

“The Unforgiven” My sense of yesterday now flown away by grace but there’s  a  tinge of memory. I felt her need to leave; she would not stay. Enraged, her private  hatred now set free, she spiraled out the door with no goodbye. Her energy, combustible with  sparks. Her feet did leave my door without a…

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“Sympathy”

<img src=”http://yeahwrite.me/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/26/gargle163.png”&gt;   I am held in the comfort of your hands, softly, as the small,  broken wings of a bird. No cooing is heard as token words cannot fill my breathless need.  Your caress soothes murmurings of a grieving heart as leaf  brushes leaf. Photo by Jacqueline Casey.

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“The Love Affair”

<img src=”http://yeahwrite.me/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/moonshine.png”&gt;   “The Love Affair” This man has had his way, deluded me. My late Casino visit, once espied Jack’s cold, one  eye with little sympathy as when I draw a two and three,  then sigh. His siren song lures all  with tens of tens. Naïve`te! A roller-coaster ride addicted to his many shills…

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