Sticks and Stones #poetry #photography

if I could give up

one thing you see

it wouldn’t hang

from a big apple tree

*

if I had to stand

with a big lettered sign

it would not be written

in cursive or in rhyme

*

if there were a big group

standing in a crowd

people united

some silent others loud

*

i’m not sure if ships

blockading in the sea

or a broad high fence

barring you from feeding me

*

is it sticks that you bring

or is it rocks

what point are you making

with your useless sling shot?

***

The prompt for Poet’s United Midweek motif is Boycott.

 I am not sure if a boycott of items or a service really does much.

Will a Cold War (a boycott of sorts) with Russia help my friends in the Ukraine???

Are the boys barring the way for practitioners  (with sticks and slingshots)  into their villages preventing the spread of Ebola?

My signs would say:

“Give Crimea Back”

“Stop the Spread of Ebola – NOW!!!”

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Vortex of Passion #poetry #atozchallenge #napowrimo

Take a breath – please

so caught

reeled in

forgetting

to breathe

***

Look Away -Please

mesmerized

by something that isn’t real

magnetized

by the  pull

***

Look around  – Please

see

there is a world

of reality

something to hold on to

***

Draw Back -Please

before you become

sucked

into a vortex of passion

illusion

***

Where

passion appears

to be

everything…

Thanks Liebe Dich for the photo of  The Storm

This year for  A to Z challenge, I am using the Nautilus as my inspiration all month. The shell has many chambers (at least enough to fit all the letters.)  You will find poetry,  You will find some dark stuff (as I am attempting to branch into the horror genre), You will also see a smattering of short stories or prose (some with children in mind) others as lessons that we can all learn from. I look forward to  meeting you and getting to know some talented writers over this month long writing journey. Please check over at the A to Z challenge and see what they are up to; they are a fine bunch of folks.

Shipwreck #poetry #dark #pen

Cast adrift

No where to go

my hands grip

this piece of flotsam

can’t remember why

*

Piece of wracked ship

splintered debris

watery abyss

sucked into darkest

no one  hears my cry

*

“welcome to the crypt”

a hollow grating sound

fingertip like cold

opens  it’s doors

none knows where I lie

As a writer for the Pen of the Damned, I like to draw attention to the excellence of the writing that you will read by this dark, angst wrought group. Please check out the newest short story by Dan Dillard ,“Visions of the Reaper.” If you like dark, you will not be disappointed

I apologize to the photographer as I lost the information about the piece. If you know, please contact me so I can attribute properly.

A Dark Christmas Post #poetry #Newtown #loss

T’was the night before Christmas
darkness stole thru the light
the people were all sleeping
when there came a fearsome fright
destructive hands of power
fists of seething might
when it was over
hearts could not endure their plight

Over at Pen of the Damned two poems are posted to remember those suffering from the loss of a loved one. They are also in tribute to the children and their families of the Sandy Hook tragedy.