Hell is a permanent stage of rejection. Just try to imagine everything you ask for the answer is always 'No!'
It took a life time to sketch our love story. There is magic in this old medium where beauty crafted from painstaking attention. It would be ideal if we recorded our first encounter and played it back when we wanted to walk away from each other. If we could make a copy of our honeymoon and broadcast it throughout our hardship, it would have been an easier journey. Video held old memories as new, we wanted to believe. But after a life time of creation, our story became a piece of intriguing art.
Waste no time to explain
Save your breath from insulting remarks
Carry on a life of your own destruction
Draw a line in the sand
Here I stand
Toddler builds an arctic farm
arctic fox, arctic hare, arctic has woolly bear
How about experiment with penguin, orca or albatross
Oh no baby
they can’t travel that far to your farm
Let me take them back south to their Mommy
Baby cries, baby shouts
Baby’s tantrum is thundering loud
Arctic farm destroyed by baby’s palms
Life dealt him a bad hand that no child should have had withstood. A broken soul became a harden man who experienced no pleasure nor pain in the act of violence. Prison life gave him a chance to be a vigilante who did justice for the abused and murdered children.
He thought about the Boss upstairs a lot actually. He thought to himself ‘I am only an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. I will make it to heaven. My life isn’t such a bad deal after all.’
There is a victory!
We celebrate with a kiss
where our happy hormones mash into
a song of joy.
My salty lips touch yours
in a crowded square.
My lady, we share a moment
in history beyond just you and me.
Shhhh, don’t tell me your name,
let’s kiss deeper into the Summer heat.
She sits in her grandma’s rocking chair crocheting the blanket she started but too frail to finish.
It’s hard to imagine a nebulous future when grandma passes. They have been looking after each other all her life. She doesn’t know otherwise.
She knows for a fact that she will be without a home when that inevitably happens. However, there is also this deep set of knowing and belief that it’s going to be ok, just like grandma always says.
His rugged body swags in animal skin prowling in front of his entourage in a chief's authority They start rapping words without limit in the crowded street People are aroused to follow dancing on embers to fend off the corruption of this age
The Living Poetry Monday Word Prompt - Pebble
The school bus set her down
in lethargic sun
she ran the long pebble drive
excited like the popping corns
a delicious cool lemonade
made by grandma's loving hand
was her reward
In the deep of the night
whatever beautiful dream she was in
would be woken up by
the sound of her father's car
rolling in the long driveway
like broken eggshells crashing
into shattered glass
she hid underneath the bed
clutching her teddy bear
but that night
there were lights
and many sets of footsteps
she saw her drunken father's rage
This is written for The Living Poetry August visual prompt
Butterfly is a halo effect.
The B word lands on one's lips.
It becomes hope and triumph.
One should take a closer look.
Not all butterflies are born equal
or fly in resurrected freedom.
Some are more splendor in looks.
Some are midiocre at best.
Some are just ugly moths die trying hard.
Butterfly is a spectrum.
Butterfly effect lies in the small details.