The Living Poetry prompt – bench, rain
Continents apart day after day, “When you come back, I’ll be here.” I remember you said.
I am standing here foolishly holding onto a distant promise soaked in the winter rain.
The bench is painted red.
Is it a sign for good luck or just man made passion to hide the worn-out memory?
We need to be sure there is nothing left to say, to explain, to retain.
Pain, I finally ready to let go.
It shivers out of my heart into the cold.
My heart is heavy
in mourning
suffocating
begging for air
He let satan deceive him
played God to murder
with his bare hands
His own will
took an innocent man’s life
in the name of justice
My soul is saturated
with despair
Father!
Have mercy on us!
Forgive us
as we sinned against
You!
The man in a suit, you are, so composed and strong
She trusts her life with you
The beast on the other hand, you too, untamed and utterly wild
She scratches and tastes coppery delight
This poem is inspired by The Fragrance Writer Jay Bleu’s original post Reflection Man
The Living Poetry prompt – Name
Sweet citrus floats on woody pine
Ageless wisdom abundant and fine
Golden dreams rest in your smile
Elegant green rope dresses up your crown
Passing midnight anything goes
The wolf says
He is a cheeky bugger really
Amusing most of the time
And sometimes he makes you blush
Wish you can just flip your apron to cover your eyes
But that will be indecent to show your buck naked body
Grandma was right
Girls should never cook wearing nothing
I thought it was just the oil splatters
Now I know it is more than that
The wolf passes midnight is the real worry here
Your blue hands lace around my ankles like the velvet poison ivy climb towards my throat
Your face is more anemic than the winter moon
Your fangs are slivered branches protruding to beg for my life stream
Your inky orbs absorb my soul into one to rule the dark world
Why did you deny my talents
I once believed I was a nobody
trapped in my own sanity
Why did you lie about my characters
I was despised by my inner circle
to be an unforgiven failure
Why did you steal my peace
I was terrorised by your pure presence
and poisoned by your every word
Why did you betray your flesh and blood
I was entrusted to your care and protection
in a world that was already cold
Why did you twist a knife in my core belief
I looked into the mirror and saw a shattered self
distorted by your snare
“Hurting people hurt people”
Painting by Virginia Bucknell, you may see more of Virginia’s paintings via: Art Lovers Australia Weebly Instagram
Jun wrote the Chinese version. I mirrored the meaning in English.
some day
poetry became your lover
I became a stranger
I only found you by
diving into your verses
someday
we will collaborate
our poetry will become
a timeless classic
and
my last words
有一天
诗成了你的爱人
我成了陌生
拉开了距离
只有读诗才可以读懂你
才能共鸣
某一天
我的爱诗与你的爱诗交汇
组成绝唱
也变成绝笔
she showed me the scars
they are drag marks
skin cuts
bullet dents
she showed me all these
with a smile and misty eyes
she told me the blackouts were blessings
memory of her husband taken but not beaten or killed
she told me their six children are blessings
she is wearing the victor’s crown
she is the aunty in her community
children grew up in her street are sweethearts
women with all colours are her sisters
she is the glue bonding broken families together
breathing in new life with her gratefulness
she did not tell people she is a saint
she breaths, lives and acts holy
she is a saint
we put our arms side by side
sesame and banana
we hugged and cried in joy
God made our paths cross
to share worship, praise and
thanksgiving
Flicker of Thoughts 