Sweet and Bitter Stuff of Wonder
Brought to you by Mary K
Dust settles down… in some time… sometimes…
28 to Create, Day 17 – Dust
***
dust
settling down to mingle with the gray ashes
under my tingling toes.
dust
puffing around
like a cloud approaching me menacingly
not believing I could hide away.
dust
waiting for me
to inhale
then conquer my lungs.
© 2014, soulmary
28 to Create, Day 16 – While Everyone Sleeps
***
While everyone sleeps
dusk crawls up the slope
eating grass and nibbling at the scrubs.
The peak looks bold
and desolate
like a lake at the foot of the mountain
where no one stops
before attacking the height.
Where the most exhausted walkers
will take off dusty heavy shoes
and dip their swollen dirty feet
in the crystal water
disillusioning every hungry soul.
© 2014, soulmary
This is it – Echo poem on Mayakovsky by Frank O’Hara. I really like his poem and I can only hope mine did it justice.
28 to Create, Day 15 – Echo Day
Echo of Mayakovsky by Frank O’Hara
1.
I have no senses
looking out of the window
smile on my lips. Oh, goodness,
why is it, I wonder.
If you would just stay out
and not meddle anymore
letting me forget your hands
soft on my breasts, so quiet now!
then I will go in, instead of
just sitting to stare.
2.
I want to forget you,
forget you, but remember my thoughts
where cold crept
like a thief.
Ideas! Get off me,
like I am off you, get back,
have a drink, play cards,
so that I can try and cheat,
forgetting I am no liar
but the worst actress in
my universe.
I know how to sweep you
off my brow!
The window gets misty
and stained with permanent breath.
I try to kiss it away,
but only smear it more.
The fog of remembrance.
3.
No wonder it’s misty
I cried my eyes out
which is stupid when you’re out of love!
so now the glass detergent is
mixed with salt,
nevertheless I wipe my kerchief
looking out at the stupidly smiling street.
All the cars and people rushing
in the sunshine when I only need sleep.
4.
Then I stare hard at the swarming bugs down
waiting to see if you’re one of them
finally coming to let me go
and leave me be in my shelter.
Outside is colourful, with patches of
green and yellow, because of the flags
pulled on strings across the street
from building to building
to celebrate how I’m over you.
That should be a national holiday
only if the nation cared
for me. Should it? Would it? Why not?
Maybe that’s the answer.
© 2014, soulmary
Featured image by Heremod at DeviantArt
The only nomads I know are not no-mads at all, but completely mad. They are the memories of youth, the beliefs I believed, the ideas I thought were mine. Not the best prompt for St. Valentine’s Day, or for the Wine Day, but that’s why I went into poetry – to be able to play with prompts, and not with the mainstream band.
28 to Create, Day 14 – Nomads
***
Wandering abroad at night
Finding peace on sunlit meadows,
Mirky mountains curbing lakes,
Fogs in clouds enwrap the snowy peak.
Nomads are the thoughts of youth
harboured in a tired heart.
© 2014, soulmary
Featured image by kotenokgaff at DeviantArt
28 to Create, Day 13 – Uncomfortable
***
Uncomfortable as a tight pair of tights
of utter synthetic tissue,
that only brings me issues.
I’m getting weary of it, can’t wait
till I can take it off
Then scratch my legs, and rub them
free of edge marks
cream them off their dryness.
Uncomfortable as that old
unspoken word that once
stood in my throat
and would not come out
as much as I tried to
cough it off.
Not even syrups helped
No medicine I found
for that old weariness
caused by the thorny
bushes of my clear mind.
© 2014, soulmary
A hard prompt, honestly speaking. I notice that I feel shame increasingly rarely these days. I suppose time really has some influence on it. Maybe it kills it together with killing us.
28 to Create, Day 12 – Shame
***
Stalking my wildness in its thicket,
Shadows can’t hide it from my heart.
Burning in the coolness,
Passing through the gates of whisper,
Crawling in my mind
is shame.
Not embarrassed by my bold look
Not cringing away before
my dashing saunter.
For time will not heal correctly
It will only dull us down
Apathy is welcome
when Time grows old and short.
© 2014, soulmary
Two for Tuesday: again we have a prompt that consists of two parts and the best part is that they can be linked.
28 to Create, Day 11 – Childhood/Adulthood
***
Dream some greatness
Impossible as it is
Improbable as they tell you it is
Believe some reason
will chase after your dreams.
Nevermind! Here I am faultering,
yet seeming firm in my
unwillingness to go on
fighting,
believing, or cheating on my destiny.
Have they told you
you’re the maker of your own destiny?
Good for them.
Did you believe it?
Good for you.
That’s enough of a lesson
to remember and ponder on
all life long.
© 2014 soulmary
Yesterday’s is also written, but no time to post here. Well, it concerned Demons, you may read it one day. Others already read it at other blogs I have. Nevermind. Let’s focus on today.
28 to Create, Day 10 – Murmur
***
Silently, I wander in the dark
Even quieter – my heart is hushed.
Rivers of repose float by
transient as fireflies abroad.
Distant glow of darkness in the woods
fills my mind with icy cubes that rattle.
Murmuring along my tripping veins
I can hear all
that needs to go.
© 2014, soulmary
It is all true, almost. I used to have several regular pen pals and enjoyed writing letters to them. I also got many letters from them and I collected all. From time to time I would take out a pile from a correspondent and re-read all. Amazing.
Believe me, emails have nothing to do with that. Luckily, it wasn’t emails that changed all that. I believe, age has its own way of working on people and their letter writing routines. Well, emails helped a lot, too.
I want to thank all my great pen pals that brought so many smiles and tears to my eyes through the years.
28 to Create, Day 08 – Letters
***
That box under the bed
where spiders don’t go
and monsters prefer not to dwell in
used to hold my letters
I used to read
and re-read them
re-live all, even shed
tears at the same places
The new tear stains looked
weirdly identical
Have I not changed?
All that distance I have covered,
the mileage I easily check on
each birthday cake
– does it mean nothing?
Something always
stays;
some things
remain to remind
or tease,
or maybe embitter.
© 2014, soulmary
28 to Create, Day 7 – Not My Usual
For this prompt I was not sure whether it would not be fitting to create something unusual, that is – not poetry, not fiction, not writing at all. But, remembering that I have tried that before, and I didn’t like the results, I decided to stick to the power of the words.
***
Not in my usual mood
of letting time go unnoticed,
I make a to-do list
which is so detailed
that it hurts my fingers to squeeze
the pen for so long.
Not my usual daily thing
of never watching TV,
I turn the telly on
and stare emptily
fixing my sneer on a bright spot
just to the left of the
anchor’s ear.
Not so usual to wash
my hands a hundred times
scrubbing them madly
with soap
and then scraping them
with a dry rough towel
until it scratches
bloody marks all along my pure skin,
I wash away the usual
indifferent me
with apathy
packed in a dry paper bag
to go.
© 2014, soulmary
