On forgetting the details

Photo credit:   SueAnn 

when you kissed me
under the darkening shade  

i forgot
how soft and tender the night can be

blurred of lines,
empty of violent shapes and crisp-

orange burns of sun and searing sky--
i imagine us

melting away in pit of darkness
but its only late afternoon

i have to catch my station train and bus,
cook dinner and - all the details -

the possibility of escape tempts me 
underground, away from the city crowd 

i look for the missing key
and find it dangling by the doorway 

but i am a creature of habit and old ways,    
so when i stammer to say goodbye --

i suddenly remember  
how hard and brittle cold the floor tiles are 

on my face -- 


Posted for:   D'verse Poets Pub:  Poetics - Through the Artist Lens - I don't know why this picture prompted me of domestic violence ~  Oh well, thanks for the visit ~

this autumn day

autumn leaves are still curled
in breasts of maple trees, 
dewy wet from yesterday’s downpour

black crows circle outside patio, 
eyes on wayward crumbs from grill, 
hovering our conversation:     
accident, coma   

we sit like windmills, unmoving,  
as the sun bristles our skin, 
fragile glass on    

crumpled napkins, 
we swallow down our throats: 
mother's fears   


picture credit:   Posted for D'verse Poets Pub:   Symbolism

and Flash Fiction Friday - Tell a story in 55 words - For the G-man.

We received the sad news this morning that our colleague's daughter died after being in coma due to a car accident.  She was a young woman,full of promise.  How fragile life is ~   

Wishing you happy day and blessed weekend.    

Of this morning sun and peaches

the sea tide followed you this morning, 
clinging to your hair, dripping of corn and sun 
bursting at the seams with rounded seeds 

the shell case broke open, replete with seeds, 
and for the first time, my tongue tasted morning, 
naked, lush pulp, succulent fruit under bittersweet sun 

nothing prepared me for you, flaming the sun 
sky with words drizzling like apple knotted seeds, 
staining my room forever silky bold, unlike any mornings 

this morning, sun dawned, tinged red of pomegranate seeds


~0~0~0~



She wasn’t petite  nor blushing peach lady.    
Tall with broad arms, sturdy legs, like her Dad
except for soft brown eyes.
Fiercely ambitious, she tackled her career,
like a charging bull.   

But, when he finally proposed after 7 years,
She melted, purring like kitten.                    
Nowadays,  her smile eclipses 
diamond-studded ring which she proudly wears.   

First post:    Posted for D'verse Poets Pub:  Tritina

Second post:   Flash Fiction Friday - A post in 55 words, for the G-man.   An office mate recently got engaged.

Thanks for the visit.



picture credit:   here

Black orchid

Among five daughters,


she was black orchid among roses. 

Deep-purple veins on mid-wife's hands, she believed in destiny.   

Upon meeting him, wanted to marry him

though he was playful with ladies.

No cussing tongue, wild temper, stopped his wandering eye.   

Drama and fireworks were their bed pillows.    

When he unexpectedly died, Grandma withered, 

palest velvet-rose.  


Posted for:   D'verse Poets Pub:  Writing characters 
and Flash Fiction Friday - Write a story in 55 words for the the G-man.    


Picture credit:   here

Dreaming

Photo by Chapala Dmitry

                   she sees

                   dragon-sun rising from the west,  
                   silk-clouds gliding towards earth 

                   time moving backwards,
                   spider webs undulating to sky    

                   youth: wiser and prudent 
                   aged: carefree, daring

                   caught in a dream, 
                   tangled, she took her pills and went back to bed 

                   her nightmares were more bearable
                   than the reality bearing down on her,

                   harsh and unforgiving 

Posted for:   Poets United:   Dream Catcher - Playing with the ideas of dreams/nightmare.

and Flash Fiction Friday -  A story in 55 words for the G-man.  Sorry, I am late.   I was so tired playing lawn garden bowling in the hot (Thursday) afternoon, sponsored by my company.   It was so much fun though ~   

Picture credit:    here 

At the dinner table

                                                   A Dinner Table at Night, 1884, John Singer Sargent

she slowly runs her finger on the glass rim,
red wine smoulders on tongue, 
washing away the lamb dish, served on silver platter

should she take coffee? 

she peers at her companion, black and white tie
a study of political correctness and wealth
glimmering the room in rose madder and gold     

her black satin dress is now heavy on thighs
maybe a cold dessert pie will cool her off,
as his voice rose in disparaging, sharp clicks 

she nods slowly, pale and poised as an arrow,
while looking at the silvery lamp
it needs more polish, maybe 2 more vigorous rubbing,
she mentally muses,  while checking the dip of her decolletage       

clock ticks so loudly  
as the conversation meanders on Madame X scandal       



Written for The Mag - Thanks for the visit ~

How far to walk

gazing stoically,
eyes tired, hands wrinkled
from daily toil
she carries on slim shoulders


he grips phone like lifeline
Sunday’s conversation routine
about their daughter, his struggling
business, needs of her own family 
 

folding creased $20 dollar,
she slips into black sturdy boots
wondering how far she has to walk
before she can go home.

Posted for:   Poetry Jam - Internal and External Limits
and Flash Fiction Friday - Tell a story in 55 words.   For the G-man.     

Today, March 8,  is the 101st anniversary of International Women's Day. "It is a day to honour how women's stories are woven into the fabric of the world.  So let us mark this day by finding ways to ensure women and girls’ access to education, healthcare, jobs, and credit, and to protect their right to live free from violence."

picture credit:    Adde Adesokan

The question

This was the tie-breaking question to determine the winner of the trip prize for this

Valentine special. 

Show host asks the wife:    Who among your friends do you think

your husband thinks is hot? 

“None” she said, smiling with confidence of 23 years of marriage.

Later, when they asked him, he ponders and says,

“Kat.”

I listen to the radio on my way to and from the office.   And they had this promotion going  on during Feb. 14, 2012.   Anyway, per the hosts,  the couple didn’t look happy when they left the studio. So, how well do you know your partner?         

Posted for Flash Fiction Friday - Tell a story in 55 words.  For the G-man.   
Just a fun post after a tiring day.   Thanks for the visit.


picture credit:   here