|With your feet on your head and your brains in your shoes, you can steer your life anyway you choose :)|
Skylark Challenge #177
Words: Letter, Fresh, Story, Sweet
He's the postal guy,
going nowhere so
fresh and early....
Wearing a haunted look
under this uniform with
the sweet smell of bubble gum
spotted brown hair.
Dusk adds romance to these days
And who would harbor a dark story
in a world of shadows
shaped such as these?
A woman awaits a letter at the post office
in his stained shirt
smelling of another,
bringing it to her.
BE MY WITCHCRAFT
It's now or never be my witchcraft
kiss me broken kiss me bruised
kiss these deathly pale lips
kiss the hidden one deaf mute
the other winged one wicked as a snake
she wishes only wings to fall from
great hights like a seagull born of wounds.
Blood in the mouth
blood between the thighs
blood at the vein
I have known the one who can no longer
hear or speak she is my twin
my enemy love doesn't suit her
she is the paralytic from too many blades
cutting her wrists no eyes can see
dressed up in long sleeves even in July
carpenter of the infinite pain kiss it.
Both are the leftovers fished from
the dead waters of bathtubs and sinks.
I tried once twice the third time I died
You find your way inside my head
Like a song that plays
Over and over again
And I can't seem to get you out the background
Oh, no, now I'm falling into pieces
I can't believe how I ended up like this
It's really beautiful, it's so precious
How you brought my heart to a new dimension
And the moon was watching over us that night...
Could I stay forever?
I hope that when I close my eyes
You'll be there when I open them tomorrow
But am I thinking way too far again?
No, I'm just being myself, I never wanna play pretend...
Cuz I love you with everything I have
So do what's best for me, baby, can you do that?
I always let my feelings get the best of me
So when the time comes will yo...
When we had no social media and were forced to spend time with our family, we didn't like it. It was boring, everyone around us did it and it had no point anyway. Now we spend all day on social media and we complain that it is boring, that everyone around us does it and it has no point anyway. One day, we will reach the stars, discover life on another planet and I know just what we're going to say.
Digging Up Savoir Faire
So much has been left to others
To render vacant interpretations
But they’ve given us stones for bread
And dynamited the foundations
We’re at a loss for what to do
In newly harrowing circumstances
Many just bury their heads
In broad daylight smartphone trances
We need to dig up savoir faire
From the soft earth of a premature grave
Then cast into swan song exile
The soul of the progressive slave
I tried to identify Time in a lineup
Thought he shouldn’t be hard to spot since
he’s usually wasted
But it was just another reality misstated
It’s we who are wasted and thin
Where Time finds no handholds within
Then shrinks to a point called present
Of empty duration without scent
Au courant drained of presence
Is the false Time to which we assent
Profiled Time that doesn’t really exist
Another simple reality we twist
Dear Rogue ✌😄,
Iam so impressed by the simplicity in your messages and creativity the way u convey them. Keep writing!!
I would hide my love for you if I could. It would be fun. You wouldn't know and I could laugh each time I thought about it. I could be your friend. Give you relationship advice. Listen to your problems. Make the world a better place for you. I would hide my love for you if I could. But babe, I go red every time you talk to me.
Whatcha gonna do?
SKYLARK CHALLENGE #165
WORDS: Delicate, Muted, Flock, Openness
If we learn nothing from each other,
does that mean there's nothing left to learn?
Can I pick up a branch on fire
without receiving a nasty burn?
0 0 0
A bird upon my shoulder
doth not well in the flock blend.
If its wisdom that I seek
must I have an owl for a friend?
0 0 0
No matter the shape of the sun's arrival-
be it a ball or a delicate bomb,
this life was a real journey
not some muted suggestion...
I felt it creeping in, as a mist engulfs a sea
It was just a slight nerve that seemed seized
As if I were in a very strange environment
Left alone all to myself to try to survive.
Mentally, I was feeling the change coming
Emotionally, I was not ready for the slip
Physically, I was in a downhill spiral
A Kite caught in a tornado of emotions.
My eyes tried to adjust to the change
Desperate to see what lie in front of me
But its impact was broad and wide
I had been overshadowed by your side.
THE WEATHER REPORTS
Some will stop on their way back home, just to weight
the rain falling down
the words still rambling about
between kisses and eyelashes, the wetness
a middle finger drum tapping
on one's head the images
drawn by you
spitting out words - love
incense burning, pleasure, dear
fear, death as a matter of
But, the weather report
was wrong - no rain
Nightmares are tired of discrimination
Giving up their seats for mere dreams
They’re leaving subconscious shanty towns
To rub our faces on serrated screams
They’re coming out more in daytime now
With a rapist’s respect for personal space
Crashing parties public and private
Dispensing death with a twisted straight face
They kill wholesale as germs once did
Before they were duly perceived
Filling jagged implications of barren lives
And vacuums of right things never believed
You can give up on me but I won't give a damn. I won't break, shed a tear and I won't disappear. I'll just continue to do what I have always done. I will continue to love you. Because babe, my love for you is real. And reality doesn't change just because you want it to
is an ordinary individual
with creative anxiety
and a stubbornness beyond doubts
and certainties; an irrational
conviction of existence embedded in something
that mottles and provokes
A poet is a reinventor - each time
the illusion of words
a sentiment of change linked to
the poet - she can, in fact
finish or start the world
in a spit of soul and quill
We are all born with a
little poet inside
of us as well as the antibodies that shall
wither and placate her
When we get rid of all the trash
the poet is reborn and overwhelms
it's her nature to emerge
I recently saw the thank you prompt provided by our wonderful Lettrs Staff. An uplifting suggestion and one which I felt able to join in with. It also seems the perfect opportunity to express my enormous thanks to those of you who've participated in my #SkylarkChallenge since it's conception.
You'd might be surprised to learn though, that I have put this off for several days as the idea of giving thanks fills me with slight trepidation. Why?, because there are so, so many of you! That's why. It's therefore an impossible task to name everyone. But there are some individuals who come to mind because their participation stands out. But before proc...
AND THE MUSIC PLAYED
Oh do you remember, do you remember
The last time we made love
The moonlight pooling like spilled milk
On the bedroom floor?
Do you remember the murmurs and gasps from our lips
Hands together, fingers twining
Soft kisses growing hard in the urgency of the fire
Growing, leaping inside –
Do you remember?
Perhaps you would rather not remember
Perhaps you would forget everything from those days
But I have those memories
Of your eyes opening wide
As the waves of pleasure bore you cresting
Taking your breath away,
I remember floating with you
Up to the stars.
The moonlight lay on the floor
Sliding pool of light and shadow
SKYLARK CHALLENGE 153
- Calamity, Slay, Outrageous, Forgive
"COME BACK TO ME"
Being of light-
a decade into my past-
climb a tree with me,
smallish drama played out
in my rearview mirror,
rise with me to the lonesome howls
of wolves both young and old
trapped inside this same growing forest.
Hey you.... ageing forest
come back to me.
an unlovable book worm,
a steam engine on a box seeking outrageous truths,
a pine cone collector...
Come back child of nine,
born here and now;
let's slay our demons together.
Come back to me
from inside the painting
I painted on the sky,
I thought you would fade in time.
13 word story:
She won't beat hate by giving up hope. So why does she try?
No more cradles await me!
Even though life can be two short legs
Poking out from under her second best dress,
I attempt to move between friendly borders.
I whisper and sigh in delight
At the streams of the past I can drink from...
As they bring upon me memories and thoughts.
I remember my first snowfall
as a child,
I was wearing mostly brown skin
wrapped over my bones;
I delight in my friendships
and the many unexplored depths ahead.
I like sandwiches that taste of brief visits
To rooms in the past.
I'm an ice sculpture that refuses to stand on
Frozen ground and
On days when I can't quite get it together,
And the lady is demanding to be treated
Just like the cat,
I can stil...
SKYLARK CHALLENGE 147
Words: Emptiness, magic, trek, sacrifice, petrified
A RIDDLE IN LIFE
When I was young excitement kept driving me
Making me spin like a dreidel gone wrong
Pushing me, pulling me, spinning me crazily
my parents would moan, oh what now has she done
deep in the woods when no one was watching me
just me and the forest as it whispered its magic
I would go on a trek, climbing my favorite tree,
Jumping and laughing without worry or fear
'cause no one was near
because no one was near
They sent me to school telling me to be real good
And God how I tried, how I fought to fit in
nobody there could seem to connect with me
#Weekend Motivational Ramblings
My business is not your business unless I want it to be. If you would prefer to go about your life blindly believing everything you're told, then by my guest.
I am not going to be coerced, bullied, or manipulated by anyone. I am my own person. I do not belong to you. My story is my own, it does not belong to anyone else.
You decide the kind of person you are.
I already know who I am.
You don't get to decide that for me.
So maybe think a little bit, about mind over matter, about who the fuck exactly you think you are, and more importantly - what you stand for.
I know one thing for sure.
I'm stronger than you. I'm stronger through my friendsh...
While we sat and ate,
Something yellow spattered the floor.
We jumped up, me and my mate,
And almost headed for the door.
But it was just an egg that fell,
From the treetops high above,
My friend wished it well,
"Here's your eulogy", she spoke with love.
"To the one who lived for a day,
To the one who never did fly,
To the one who lost its way,
To the one who never even got to try.
"To every grey hair, my child,
To every grin, high or low,
To every cigarette, strong or mild,
To everything you didn't know.
"To every embrace you never got
To every action, right or wrong,
To every battle you never fought,
To every emotion, weak or strong.
"To the only thing you did find out,
To how sweet ...
SKYLARK CHALLENGE 117
'Play the game' you said to me
You brought the party, game in your hand
Sang along to my favorite band
Smile cheek to cheek
I was so tired I was so weak
Sitting high in my bed for two
I was admiring the way your SHAPE moved
Dancing with ease like you never danced before
I couldn't miss my moment I hit the floor
Found my way to you and took your hand in mine
I swear to you I was on cloud nine
A couch potato CURLS out into something more
Low on motivation but that was before
Anger at the tip of my NOSE no more
A wallflower in a Sun's light
Looking at you I just might
See a glimpse of what couldn't be
But this isn't reality
And you aren't in my company