FIFTY WORD STORY – After Hours

Everything was blurry. It was like looking down the street through a glass of water. Each step felt like trudging through knee-deep mud, in the rain. My head was spinning, then suddenly the ground was rushing up to greet me. The darkness took me as hot blood filled my mouth.

——

 

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MUSIC SERIES – The Scarecrow

So this poem was inspired by In the Hall of the Mountain King…which I understand is a little weird, but hey, don’t question the Muse.

 

The Scarecrow

 

They pinned me on a sunny cross

like a vegetable Jesus Christ

with the same patched up purple cloak

and my own crown of prickly straw.

——

 

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The Red Eye – A Poem

Hey there, I took a break from the music series this week to write a poem that’s been nagging me since I woke up.

 

The Red Eye

 

From the windows of the wet plane

I see a white bird migrating

away from its spring time meadows

in the sanctity of midnight.

 

I wonder if it, too, wields

the fire of a red dragon

waiting for its feathers to burn

to a set of bloody scales.

 

I wonder if its heavy wings

are waiting for the chance to spread

or if its watery brow steams

beneath the hard rains of the storm

 

and from my small leather backed seat

confined to sit with the people

who looked for their peace in the sky

I wonder why he doesn’t dive to safety.

——

 

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FIFTY WORD STORY – Royalty

He was royalty; clothed in the red and gold of the dynasty his family had brought to life fifty years ago. He passed beneath the golden arched entryway, down the polished white tile floor, to the first person he spotted. He smiled at them and said, “one Big Mac, please.”

——

 

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Cat on the Counter (and Other Haikus)

Bottles

Upturned on tables

and left abandoned on shelves

dripping their last drops.

 

Sink

The silver spoon slipped

back into the dish water,

rippling in waves.

 

Hostile

I don’t mind glaring

when I see them glance my way

from their car windows.

 

Pocket Coins

A couple of coins

jingling in my jacket

while reaching for keys.

 

Cat on the Counter

The cup’s a goner,

along with the today’s paper,

‘cause he pawed them both.

——

 

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FIFTY WORD STORY – The Hook

The hook dangles, shining in the aquatic light. The dead worm seems to writhe in the current as unsuspecting fish swim by. A small one spies it and—his curiosity getting the better of him—he takes a bite. Suddenly, he is ripped from the water into the murderous air.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #109 – Guitar

Guitar

 

Like the gentle weeping of strings

on a slender wooden guitar,

her sobs carry through the thick walls

as though she picked at her own heart.

——

 

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MUSIC SERIES – The Miner

This poem was inspired by Heart of Gold by Neil Young! Have a song you think I should write about? Let me know in the comments!

 

The Miner

 

You will find me here in the darkness

with a dirt-stained shirt and dust-filled lungs

hacking away at an endless wall

like the dreamer lost in his black sea.

 

Suddenly, our earthen ocean shakes;

the waves of clay wrack with a madness

and we drowned in its torrents of dredge

with hearts ever set on the sunshine.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #108 – Charity

Charity

 

will come to one with arms outstretched,

embracing them with crimson clothes

so they might cut a patchwork cloak

and bring warmth to those who’ve grown cold.

 

This concludes all the 7 Virtues and 7 Sins! I decided to make this last one more about…love of all people. Use the links below to check them all out:
The Heavenly Virtues: DiligenceChastityKindnessPatienceTemperanceHumility.

AND all 7 Sins: Greed, Pride, Sloth, Wrath, Lust, Gluttony, Envy.

——

 

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Hungry Dog (and Other Haikus)

Old Shoes

Stained so that the dirt

doesn’t discolor the strings;

rather it dyes them.

 

No School

The sky looks more blue

and the sun seems to suggest

we go out to play.

 

Book Ends

The grim lion heads,

cemented with their grey eyes,

oversee the books.

 

Lungs

Rising and falling

like a feather caught aloft

by a light updraft.

 

Hungry Dog

His nubby tail

bobs along the tile floor

as he begs for scraps.

 

——

 

Hello there!

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