Tongues in torment
brain cells starving in darkness
and necks bent in permanent subjugation to the Gods who dwell in the hills of Bellevue and are housed in finery by Lake Union.
The human body
a vessel for technology to travel by
an over designed mode of transportation for a bit of light and sound trapped in plastic.
206 bones, six liters of blood, six million years of evolution
all promised to next years model
a phone in a case bedazzled and cared for
slimmer, faster and more desirable
then we will ever be
to each other.
This was inspired by a Writing Prompt where you pick three spooky words and write a poem or story based on the words.
I chose Banshee, Corrupted and Creep.
corrupted, cursed and revolting
it’s pooling in a pond where I used to feed the ducks.
Who will cage it?
will anyone swim in it?
Who will watch it creep towards the shore?
Will anybody grab a bucket, sponge scream out in fear
more likely then not
everyone will pretend as if it’s not there.
corrupt, cursed and revolting
I wonder if the Ducks that I used to feed
wished it wasn’t there.
The roaring in her ears finally stopped
she could hear music, her favorite
she heard Mozart.
The constant jostling and pulling and stretching stopped too
she didn’t have to run she could rest right where she was
at last she could take a deep breath and savor it.
Now she could smell the flowers, she could close her eyes
she could smile
she was and will always be
The Beautiful Cadaver.
RDP Monday: SERENE
RDP Wednesday – FEAR
Fear is an unlocked door, it’s hinges rusted fast with age.
Fear is a blind window, a cold kitchen, a dusty hallway
a carpet worn to dust, furniture green with mold
Fear is living forever in the world outside
because no one knows
you have died.
9 People Who Were Found Dead…Years After Their Deaths
RDP Monday: FUSTY
over used promises
the same old tales of passion
repeated mindlessly in a haze of cigarette smoke.
Over played love songs
from the 60’s
they use them to sell cars and yogurt now.
Fusty valentine sentiments
printed on faded paper and rotting under the refrigerator
the cemetery of lost memories.
RDP SATURDAY: COMMENCE
I have been riding since the Spring
into the Summer
my black heart stilled in grief.
When will I reach
the cruel lover
who has left me behind?
Will he remember me?
Be ready for me
when I find him
RDP- SUNDAY- PUZZLE
are a puzzle.
Fragments of colors and shapes
a jumble of letters, numbers and pictures in countless albums fading with age and lack of care.
are a puzzle
words hitched to other words
in stream of nonsense that will go nowhere.
sitting in a box
on a shelf
in a room