Shall We Dance

Glamour is pouring out of pubs and clubs
along the shoreline
And the summer clamour
Is everywhere around
I get lost in the sweet and sour flavours
Reaching my senses from the crowd
Restaurants and Ferris wheels scream for joy
Shall we dance until the crack of dawn?
(c) 2023, soulmary

This poem was created with several prompts in mind:
Wednesday Prompt 657: A summer poem, and you can see many others here As always, excellent works.
Friday Writing 81: City dreaming, a blog for which I write for the first time.
Poetic Bloomings 443: Shall we dance? But of course we’ll dance, why even ask 😉

For the Waves Crashing at the Shore

Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay

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 …

Something Goes Wrong

Something goes wrong when I get a party call
I want to stay home, but I also want to go

Either way, I am displeased:
If I go, I get so teased
by smokers, or the music, or the bar
When I skip, I nag till heaven falls apart.

So, there we have it, plain and clear:
“party” is a word I shouldn’t hear.

Just a little joke after the Wednesday prompt at Poetic Asides this week.

Learning the Ropes of a Trade

Learning the ropes of a trade

First, you see yourself as a master,
with all the glory awaiting you when learning is over.
Then, you dive in apprenticeship, and time slips away –
from chore to task, to duty, to struggle, and to frustration.

Until youngsters start asking “Why you joined?”
And you don’t know.

Learning the ropes of a trade is in reality tedious,
with no shine or glamour attached to its course.
Only masters finally know.


This short poetic piece was written in answer to Wednesday Prompt #449 dated 15 August 2018 – Learning … Poem.
Just keeping the juices in motion.

Word of the Year 2017

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

Upside Down

Wednesday at Poetic Asides, Prompt #275 – Upside Down Poem

Image: dead-end18
Image: dead-end18

I need to write an upside-down poem –
the moment I spotted the prompt, I rushed
towards it,
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,
upside down
on a barren, unfamiliar piece
of soul-land.

I realised my life
has calmed, has settled down,
has gained its weight
and lost its unsteadiness
that once made me
on egde,
afraid of the dark,
and adventurously

No upside-down poem
from me
this time around.

©2014, MK

The Morning After: A Wednesday Poetry Prompt

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:


Image: xxxiriacynthexxx
Image: xxxiriacynthexxx

The Morning After
I drank a full bottle of vodka with you
staring in your eyes, taking in all your words
of encouragement,
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
first time

The perfectly stoned Sisters of Mercy fan
nowhere to be seen.

©2014, MK

Written for the Wednesday Prompt at Poetic Asides, #274 – A Disappointment Poem and shared on the site.

If You…

Poetic Asides, Wednesday prompt #240 – If You…
coffee in the morning
If You Simply Walk Away

If you simply walk away
without any explanations or
tearful and hysterical conversations
over a hectic cup of coffee
shamelessly early in the morning,

no one would recognize you –
the boy with soft approach
and gentle sway,
the one who looks people
always in the eyes
and likes to talk things out.

So, I guess, you are not going to
simply walk away
in such a crazy manner.

©2013 Mariya Koleva

The prompt can be found here, along with a lot of other great poems.

Normal Poem

It’s been a long time, a little over a year, since I’ve been playing along with the Poetic Asides Wednesday prompts. It has been always one thing or another that would stop me. Now, I quite accidentally managed to check in on the website and saw the prompt: #239, October 2nd, and here I go:

Image: za14ispottermad
Image: za14ispottermad

Normal Poem

I was asked to be myself
Really hard.
It’s a task,
I considered for a while,
for years, in fact.

What would define me?
Or, what could?

Once I asked to be like everybody,
but gradually, I came to realise
That there is no ‘everybody’
that will put the boundaries of normal
into my mind frame.

© 2013 Mariya Koleva


Poets United, Wonder Wednesday #02 – Weird

Image Credit: Poets United


I see it –

face in shop windows,

shadow dim,


questioning my sanity

wishing to see more

© 2012 Mariya Koleva