Tag Archives: poetry

the hellish greasy look that didn't ignite my fury

Wake Up, Shake It Off

A Sour Love Poem

Going with my fingers through your greasy hair,
I remembered how much I wanted to touch you
in spring
how much I desired your lips
in the rainy afternoons while walking to my private composition lessons.

Seeing the hellish grin on your new girlfriend’s face,
I felt as if a thin blade went through my body
very thin and very cold
at the same time burning me
with shame
and filthy disgust.

The moment of waking ignited my rage
very short-lived rage
which died in indifference
Because the waking was real.

© 2015, MK

Note: These were written for this week’s prompt at Three Word Wednesday: Greasy, Hellish, Ignite

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The Kick-Ass Princess


Amazed with my soul
that sighs in silent music tones
and busts in awful failures.

The system needs restart
to the level of awesomeness
it enjoyed a while ago.

My head’s a mess,
even more so than my verse.
If there exists a visit
of reason and rhyme,
trump me with it.

The CD spins its endless tune.
I get off, all dressed up for party –
a kick-ass princess with a headache.

© 2015, MK

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Spiritually Loaded Bracelets and White Wine

This is my first ever participation in the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads prompts. A lot of my friends poets are there and have been poeming to their prompts for a long time. I have just boarded. Today, it’s the IGWRT Weeken Mini Challenge, Write a pome inspired from going out.

Write some poets while you dine out

Image taken from the prompt site

Having filled myself up with green salad,
a.k.a. lettuce,
not to mention the white wine
I drank profusely,
I went on to enquire after the spiritual
jewelry you make,
hoping it could be a good business
to profit us all.

After the green salad
and the olives,
on top of the white wine
and my earlier promise to go on
regular exercising
next week,

the talk of “spiritually
loaded” bracelets,
which could help one to prosperity
on a small degree, even,
without any exercise,
refreshed my spirits.

Spirits are easily refreshed by spirits.
(Remember the white wine
I mentioned before.)

© 2015, forestlove
Prompted, inspired and shared at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads‘ Weekend Mini Challenge

PS The featured image is by BeadsMagic.com.

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The Spring Is Trying

This is my Sunday Whirl participation this week. Rather surprisingly, on time. It’s been a terrible beginning of March in this part of the woods, to be honest. No more waiting, here is the pool of words and here is the poem, too.

Sunday Wordle 203 by Brenda Warren

Image taken from prompt site

The spring makes snowy attempts
to be delivered,
tearing cables and posts down
like blasphemy of weather.

A whole land plagued
by blizzards,
born to be tossed
in disasters.

We are dreaming of the rustling trees,
of dry grass and sweet air,
that will keep on like that
and yield photos to be envied.

So far, “All hands on deck!”
is the summon spring has for us.

(c) 2015, forestlove

Shared to Sunday Whirl #203, prompt for March 15th.

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Floods in urban landscape


Some more summertime poetry I wrote on notes and retrieved much later. There were many floods last summer, lives were lost and people remained homeless and poorer than before.

Floods in urban landscape

Image by Amartia

The Floods Around These Parts
Plumbing towards correction
Crawling before the heart
of silence and dead impunity
Plumbing without awareness
Beyond the forest license
and thumping hearts.

©2014, MK

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Melodrama is harder than death


Process notes? Not really. Who can say what it means, or what caused this? I can’t. Just read. Enjoy. I hope you can.


Death is not easy
Unlike melodrama
Silence is heavier
than hot teardrops.

©MK, 2014

Note about the image. I really like it. I often use images by artists on the Deviant Art to accompany my poems. I can only hope the words do them credit.

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deadly solitude


Summer is a difficult season for poetry, in my experience. I write just scanty notes, scribble them here and there, because I hate to see the computer and there’s no time to sit at it for hours. So, in September, I suddenly remember those notes existed and start sorting.

Here is a haiku that I obviously wrote in mid-August.

When you are trying
To catch yout own breathing
and arrest your heartbeat.
(c) 2014 MK

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violet flowers


My friend, Kristjaan, hosting the wonderful blog of Carpe Diem Haiku, is never tired. He offers daily, weekly and seasonal prompts. He holds contests, features many translated haiku and great pics. His blog is a great resource of information and support. Although this is not a classical haiku, because it has “my tears” in it, I wrote it after his Little Creatures prompt. Visit his haiku meme blog here. You may decide to join. Who knows what might come.

Carpe Diem, Little Things #19 – Violet

violet flowers

Image credit: Wallpapers Tube

My tears will remain
in place to breathe the beauty
of a violet bloom.

© MK 2015


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Sinking, not singing


Image by Draken413o


Sinking instead of floating
Growling instead of singing

But when I look in the window glass,
the outside hides its grass.

Blinking instead of goggling
Crawling instead of prancing
But when I open my shabby purse,
the inside chills my pulse.
© MK

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Happiness, A Midweek Motif at Poets United

Poets United, Midweek Motif – Happiness

First, some process notes. There is an advertisement campaign going on at the moment, appealing to us to “collect our happiness in three designer’s glasses”. The idea that happiness can be contained in three glasses only seemed funny. Then, I found this amazing glass made by a Belgrad-based designer and really decided to show it.


Cipher Glass Design by Damjan Stankovic

Cipher Glass Design by Damjan Stankovic


Measure it in three glasses.
Pour it out
and drink it chilled.

I will need buckets to take all
the stuff I’ve considered
my happiness.

I will surely refuse to count
the vessels
and the volume units
of what I’ve thought
my happiness.

I will surely refuse to
define it,

I’ll have it my way,
and let happiness define me.

©2014, MK

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