uneven time

I look at the calendar asking 

where the time has gone 

it seems like yesterday was Spring 

but today it’s Summer and soon 

as tomorrow it will be Autumn 

 

yet every day at the office 

the hands on the wall clock 

move in such slow formation 

my hour of freedom appearing 

so far away

 

 

- Written for Twiglet #285

 

deranged silence

she did her best
to arrange the lines
in perfect formation
 
despite best efforts
the words still manage
to derange the meaning
 
she continues in silence
rearranging sentences
hoping to get it right,
eventually

- Written for Twiglet#228 - deranged silence

innocence

we were once innocent

with eyes wide open

until our glasshouses

were shattered

Two poems for today:

"Sunday mornings"

Sunday mornings hearing preachers

talk of fire and brimstone

and pathways to heaven

with Mothers shouting in aisles

after being touched by spirits

while we hide in stairwells

counting down the hour

playing with coins in pockets

destined for offering plates

I watch as the girl pulls out

her comb to fix her curls

to catch the boys’ eyes

“she hid it so well”

she hid it so well

no one could ever tell

depression’s shadow had returned

her soul blackened by its burns

it filled up her emptiness

with a pitcher of bitterness

turning her heart into ice

but it didn’t show in her eyes

she smiled through her mask

saying all is well if you asked

but deep down it was not fine

not when she was dead inside

Poem for the day:

“keeper of secrets”

she is no priest

but they come to her

with their darkest secrets

pouring out confessions

to ease burdened minds

she is the keeper of secrets

like a ship out at sea

that never comes to shore

if she opened her box

the world would turn upside down

so the box remain sealed

she is the keeper of secrets

but they do not know

how heavy it weighs on shoulders

to carry such dark deeds

kept away from sunlight

but it is her life’s path –

she is the keeper of secrets

Trio of triolets:

“love stains”

she was in love with the wrong man

let caution fly into the wind

the end results were never planned

she was in love with the wrong man

leaving engraved stains on her hands

always reminded of her sin

she was in love with the wrong man

let caution fly into the wind

“lipstick stain”

she saw the lipstick stain and knew

she had lost him to someone else

and his words of love were not true

she saw the lipstick stain and knew

their love affair was all but through

slowly her heart began to melt

she saw the lipstick stain and knew

she had lost him to someone else

“teen angst”

he grew tired of their harsh stares

and painted his soul in stained glass

but it did not end the nightmares

he grew tired of their harsh stares

judgmental looks he couldn’t bear

he prayed the days would quickly pass

he grew tired of their harsh stares

and painted his soul in stained glass

- Written for Writer's Digest Poetic Aside Prompt 338: stained poem

Poem for today: to reveal secrets

"to reveal secrets"

I wish I could tell him

my darkest secrets within

break my shell wide open

and let him deep inside

but a part of me resists

to open that Pandora’s box

fear of inflicting harm

keeping me in the shadows

one day he will pull me out

from under the tree’s shades

he will ask me those questions

that I don’t have answers to

Two little poems

"little white lies"

those little white lies

never stay hidden for long

sooner or later

the light shine on the shadows

and we both lose in the end

"friend"

a friend

I tried to be

you didn’t see it that way

I guess no more chats or lunch dates

that’s okay

- Written in response to Writer's Digest Poetic Aside Prompt 335 - a poem consisting of 10 lines or less.

Can we just turn back

"Can we just turn back"

can we just turn back

the clock to when

I was thirty and thin

and we had our paths

charted down to a tee

can I relish in those

fleeting moments in your arms

before darkness took over

can I just stand here

and not move for a minute

recalling what I had with you

before I walk out the front door

and into the unknown

To those who celebrate, I wish you a peaceful and joyous Christmas.

Another pandoum poem for today:

“writing daily”

I write my words daily

who knows if they’ll be read?

I release them into the wind

in hopes to reach one’s ears

who knows if they’ll be read?

I write because it’s in my blood

in hopes to reach one’s ears

I cannot stop poeming

I write because it’s in my blood

despite the odds against me

I cannot stop poeming

it brings me peace of mind

despite the odds against me

I release them into the wind

it brings me peace of mind

so I write my words daily

For today's poem, I experimented with a "pantoum" poem.  It is a modern adaption of Malaysian folk poetry.  You can find out more information here at poets.org website here.

Here's my attempt at a pantoum poem:

“as children”

as children, they put us together

to grow up, side by side

but as adults, we grew apart

we never had their bond

to grow up side by side,

I was too timid for your tastes

we never had their bond

and you were too wild for me

I was too timid for your tastes

we couldn’t be like our mothers

and you were too wild for me

we were not on the same page

we couldn’t be like our mothers

and as adults, we grew apart

we were not on the same page

though as children, they put us together

“what should I do when my heart cries tears”

my heart cries tears

when I see the world

disintegrate into chaos

what am I to do?

take up arms

like some proclaim

bastardize others names

should I pray like others

some may mock me

but tell me, what should I do?

should I do nothing,

and watch the world

fade out of my view

pretend I’m not really here

but on a heroin high

violence only begets violence

though prayers are fine

without work behind them

I don’t think we’ll get far

I know what my faith tells me

about days like this –

the end of days

but still I ask God

what should I do

in the meantime?

Poem for the day:

"elephant in the room"

we begin dancing

around the elephant

in the room

neither one of us

wanting to look it

straight in the eye

so we just dance

like lithe ballerinas

pretending it will

just go away

Poem for the day:

"waiting for you to say"

I’m waiting for you to say

those three small words 

that hold such sway

but you continue to hesitate

and my patience is running thin

if I only knew way back then

but now it is too late

A second poem for the day:

“did I wait too long?”

did I wait too long

to let you know how I feel

now that you are hers

I can see you are happy

I guess I should keep quiet