For the Waves
That crashed near the shore all day.
It’s near summer’s end. No risk of over sun exposure –
Just the risk of regretting the insufficiency thereof.
I lay on a chair, all day, facing the waves
that curled, rolled, thundered, whitened
and crashed in billions of snow-white drops
that stole rainbow shine during their erratic flight.
The wave crests are like the snow hurrying
with terrible might down the mountain hill –
an avalanche where whipped cream breaks
in multiple white particles, dust-like,
and sparkling off with rainbow shine over their frightening fall.
(c) MK, 2019
Written for Poetic Asides, Wednesday Prompt #495 – For …
We’re mostly sick of all the days and nights
of empty dreams and hollow clinks
and chinks of glasses
We’re mostly sick
and mostly looking
for value only if we don’t need to spell it
correctly in our souls
and every day of our lives.
(c) 2018 MK
This is what I created for Wednesday Prompt #424 – Sick
Hello and Happy New year 2018! That’s a valid thing to say throughout January, so I’m totally up-to-date. Here is something small for today.
Protocol requires that
All access is allowed in exchange for a
Suitable code –
Only the chosen few can
Down the road
(c) 2018, MK
Did you recognise it? It’s an acrostic, and it was written for Poetic Asides, Wednesday Prompt #421. With plenty of cool verse over there.
After a long period of silence, it is time for the Wednesday prompt once again! Here is what I wrote this week:
While whiling away the dullest of days
I stopped to consider why I never stop.
The clouds above hid behind curtains of rain,
the ceilings committed numerous crimes:
the sun was all blocked
and stifled – the air,
a sickening yellow was all I could see.
So, that’s how the soul goes –
no drama or loudness,
but simply complicit
to its own self loss.
?©soulmary 09 Dec 2017
My poem was written on a prompt by Poetic Asides, a Writers Digest editor blog. Wednesday Prompt #417
It’s already Day 2 of April, and here’s my poem.
I’ll wear a tightly-fitting dress
That shows my pretty curves
And lanky legs
But not today.
I’ll put on pearls or, better, diamonds
That shine the pathway to my cooling heart
And gripping, witty smile
But not today.
I’ll race a flashy bright red car
That turns the heads and minds of all men gaping
And cures their arrogance
But not today.
Today, I’ll wear a tracksuit
And clean the bathroom
Because the mould is bad for me?
Reminiscent, a Shadorma
Faith was everything
Not so now
Your benefits from belief
©2017, Mariya Koleva
Happy New Year, all. 2014 was terribly dynamic and dynamically terrible. I don’t believe in happiness and unhappiness anymore. Perhaps, indifference marks the end of glorious age.
A Party Poem
The party sucked
and I didn’t need a young child’s tears
to know that.
I didn’t care about the windy road
and dancing snow across it
similar to sand
or Aurora Borealis
because you are with me.
Because Joan Jett was singing
full voice and full guitar on our CD.
Because the “friends” we had
but that was not the smash
that broke the cheesy party.
How can cheese be broken?
Along the windy frozen road
We didn’t even care to see
the frozen beach.
The party is over,
the New Year came
to stay for 365 days
of grace, amazing news and thrilling kisses.
Wednesday at Poetic Asides, Prompt #275 – Upside Down Poem
I need to write an upside-down poem –
the moment I spotted the prompt, I rushed
as I still remember how very often
I felt like that,
I remembered how strongly I related
to the cliche,
to the awkwardness,
to the confusion.
I rushed to open a new word doc
to simply see:
my life has stopped its topsy-turvy
it’s lost its gullible
and musing edge
that used to threaten
to kick me off my balance
and leave me stranded,
on a barren, unfamiliar piece
I realised my life
has calmed, has settled down,
has gained its weight
and lost its unsteadiness
that once made me
afraid of the dark,
No upside-down poem
this time around.
Here is a teenage snap. I love such summer prompts that get me so many years back. Though it was a bitter experience, now it’s just a sweet petit bonbon in the candy box of youth. Smiles:
The Morning After
I drank a full bottle of vodka with you
staring in your eyes, taking in all your words
while listening to the Sisters of Mercy,
getting convinced by a perfectly stoned girl
that is perfection itself,
and was violently sick and stupid,
after I found my idiotic crescendo
in an attempted chat with
my new replacement,
I woke up, my head – the battleground
for millions exclusively armed with cannons,
to see you having coffee and small talk
with her again
gossiping about my
The perfectly stoned Sisters of Mercy fan
nowhere to be seen.
Written for the Wednesday Prompt at Poetic Asides, #274 – A Disappointment Poem and shared on the site.
November Poem-A-Day Challenge, Day 08 – Inanimate Object Poem
Cuddle your cute teddy-bear
Never mind he’ll suck on your blood
Cuddling him, you feel not
how life flows away from you
and dreams come through –
soak in you,
keeping you breathing, but not really alive.
Cuddle your cute nightmare
to see your blood float out of your soul
Bodies matter not,
yet we cling madly to them.
All the death in the world
cannot take you,
if your time
has not chimed.
©2013, Mariya Koleva