Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Tuesday's Tale: Legacy


(file from Google Images-layoutsparks.com)

Blackbird perched upon her branch
(a for-bearer of pending doom)
patiently waiting for his chance
as burgeoning buds eventually bloom

Flowers give way to emerald leaves
while blackbird nests, keeping watch
other birds surf gentle breezes
he bides his time sipping Scotch

Blackbird stirs as time draws near
'twixt her foliage he lustily recites
poems of love, chivalry into her ear
words...wound tight, delights, excites

Blackbird left in stealth of night
stealing from her bountiful tree
sweet tender fruit, not fully ripe,
though she’d gladly given for free

Blackbird drops pilfered pit
over seedy part of town
‘tween asphalt sheets & butts well thrown,
nourished by rain of spilt Royal Crown

Weeping golden tears upon the ground
she empties self, mourning loss
of love imagined, so pure, profound
comforting self with layers of winter moss

Meanwhile ‘cross city-scape
her daughter burrows deep
taking root as night sky drapes
wintry blanket under which she sleeps

Thus story begins anew
when unto chaos she emerges
(against all odds it survived), and grew
her marrow with pavement merges

Generations came, decades spent
(mom's) memories coursing through veins
this time, she thought, will be diff’rent
as blackbird settles in, taking reign

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A d'Verse Poets Pub "Open Link Night" offering

Monday, March 19, 2012

Renewed Resolve: A Micro-fiction Monday Post



17 months passed
since stepping
into dark confines
beyond cellar door

Vision adjusts
yielding truth:

empty barrels

stark reminder
of life once led
(140)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Saturday, March 17, 2012

Fairy Tale, V.2: d'Verse Poetics Offering



 

Once upon a yesteryear
I believed in fairy-tales…

Prince Charming came
slaying dragons
wakening, writhing,
dancing in tempo
to rhythmic beat; 
a troubled heart
pound, pound, pounding…

truth
drown, drown, drowning
‘neath blood spilt
through pierced flesh;
sword’s tainted tip
eventually exposing
Prince’s flaws...
defeated, he left

once upon a yesteryear
I believed in fairy-tales…

Friday, March 16, 2012

Fairy Tale: A Flash Friday 55 Offering


Once upon a yesteryear
I believed in fairy-tales…

Prince Charming came
to slay dragons
wakening, writhing,
dancing in tempo
to rhythmic beat
of troubled heart
pound, pound, pounding…

truth
drown, drown, drowning
‘neath blood spilt
through pierced flesh;
sword’s tainted tip
eventually exposing
Prince’s flaws
as well…

once upon a yesteryear
I believed in fairy-tales…


Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Tuesday's Tale: What is it About Kids Today?

What is it about kids today...
self centered,
greedy,
uncaring,
unfeeling,
whiny,
over-inflated egos,
with the attitude of entitlement
and so on...

Right?

WRONG!

I was witness to something especially amazing this past Friday. There is a courageous young man in Munchie's 7th grade class who is undergoing treatment for osteocarcinoma: cancer of the bone. This young man recently turned 13 and a celebration was held in his honor at his school, attended by the whole 7th grade class.

(Don't you just love that smile? And that Grover hat, too?)

In addition to birthday cake, streamers and balloons, music blasting on loud speakers outside, there was something quite different going on in the middle school lobby:

As an outward sign of support, and to give encouragement to this young man as he battles cancer, many shaved had their heads and/or donated their hair to Locks of Love in his honor.

Participating were teachers...




students...

 








Munchie Boy...



a parent or two...


and even a brave young lady, who not only donated to Locks of Love, but had her head shaved as well as a show of solidarity...



Students gathered at the rafters, windows, and doorways to cheer them on...



What a great looking bunch, don't you think?


This was a truly wonderful celebration of HOPE! 


Thursday, March 8, 2012

Hope Chest


childhood dreams, neatly folded, safely tucked away

wrapped within whitewashed sheets, cleansed with salty tears

victim of perverted desires, to demons falling prey

childhood dreams, neatly folded, safely tucked away

buried ‘neath  emptied bottles of Zin and Chardonnay

locked away in rotting trunk, forgotten were those years

childhood dreams, neatly folded, safely tucked away

wrapped within whitewashed sheets, cleansed with salty tears

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In addition to my usual Friday 55 post (although I had a lead foot and exceeded the speed limit just a bit) I decided to participate in d'Verse Poet's Pub challenge: compose a TRIOLET. What is a triolet you ask. It is a poem composed of 8 lines with an ABaAabAB rhyme scheme. The first, fourth, and seventh lines are identical; the second and the last lines are also identical. 


Sunday, March 4, 2012

Micro-Fiction Monday: Breaking Wind


Harold and Maude,
deliberated at great length,
as Southern winds
blasted the atmosphere
surrounding them
only to conclude
that it is true:
he who smelled it, dealt it!
(140)





Saying Goodbye: A Saturday Centus Post

(Prompt is in GREEN)



deep within 
she knew
time was nearing

despite desperate denials
fearful, bitter truth
came through child’s cry

“Mommy, please stop!”

how hard she had tried:
countless times 
countless ways
a few days here 
a few weeks there
eventually succumbing
to his always appealing
seductive spell...
his charismatic charm

controlling encounters:
different places
different times
secretly meeting
hiding
even cheating with others…
never worked
always resulting in
guilt
remorse
shame

deep down she knew
he was toxic…
he could
and would
kill…
destroying her soul

and yet
saying goodbye
was harder than she thought

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jenny Matlock

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