Two Hundred and Six Bones

Tongues in torment

brain cells starving in darkness

vacant eyes

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.

 

The Duck Pond

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.

 

Banshee blood

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.

 

Banshee blood

corrupt,  cursed and revolting

I wonder if the Ducks that I used to feed

wished it wasn’t there.

 

The Best Day Ever

 

The roaring in her ears finally stopped

and now

 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

because now

she was and will always be

The Beautiful Cadaver.

 

RDP Monday: SERENE

Dust Bunnies Take You!

RDP Monday: FUSTY

Used kisses

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.

Wildering

RDP- SUNDAY- PUZZLE

You

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.

You

are a puzzle

 words hitched to other words

floating

in stream of nonsense that will go  nowhere.

You

are puzzle

sitting in a box

on a shelf

in a room

nobody uses

anymore.