When the dark winds come trees whip wildly with possessed arms.
Leaves fly and swirl just as bones and gizzards swirl in ebony caldrons.
The wind howls like a banshee in the night.
The dark people come.
They come infiltrating, flitting as shadows around innocent men.
They come for souls.
Darker than dark they feed on the night vices of the innocent.
With shiny, black-marble eyes, they wait.
They wait to spread ichor across the earth…
one soul at a time.
Little copper penny laying on the ground.
I see you, all dull and brown.
You have lost your shiny sheen.
I wonder how many people have passed you by.
Underestimating your value.
Underestimating your worth.
One of you may not seem like much,
But added up, you can be very much.
You could be the three in thirty three, or the nine in eighty nine.
I see you there, all dull and brown.
You have definitely lost your sheen.
In my pocket you always go!
My momma taught me well,
Never pass up free dough.
See a penny, pick it up!
All the day you’ll have good luck!
Raining Cats and DogsNapowrimo 10
The sun hides behind clouds.
Brightness suddenly grows dim.
Cool air moves quickly in.
Suddenly, there is a drip drop.
Drip drop turns into ta-ta-tickety tock.
Newspapers raise, shielding hair.
Walkers mentality kick themselves.
They forgot umbrellas.
Street people shuffle to find shelter.
Ta-ta-tickety tock turns to white noise.
A constant rush of water falls from the sky.
Water pools and puddles form.
Small furry things splash down around me.
Chihuahuas, poodles, corgis and papillons!
Calicos, Manx, hairless and Siamese!
It’s raining cats and dogs!
Sei Shonagon list: napowrimo 9
An elderly woman reads the entire menu with her outside voice trying to decide what to order.
Seeing sad in the jazz, that is the music of my soul.
A woman tries to talk with her coworker which results in unresponsiveness snd awkward silences.
Pouring out love on the undeserving.
A weird flutter of my heart seeing you after thirty years.
Waking up from a dream and thinking I’m still dreaming.
Wondering if life is just packed boxes filled with bubble wrap and memories.
Did they all die when the plane crashed and was anything that happened on the island real? #LOST
Knowing that people who are supposed to love you,really don’t.
Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?
Silently living the life as a motherless child.
My untethered eating raw rabbit while I eat lobster.
The sadness of children who have clipped wings.
The word ‘mother’ doesn’t make someone a good one.
Teaching my child about racism to ensure her safety in this dark world.
Loss is something the innocent keenly carry.
Love comes into our life and sometimes has to leave.
Joy is in the breeze.
Gentle, wispy fingers touched by brine caress my cheeks as they pass by on their way to others who have journeyed through asphalt and sand to sit at the edge of the sea.
Joy is in the wave.
Waves lap at my toes. Watery tendrils lap at the sand pulling and pushing golden kernels of soon to be sea glass with the regularity of the moon. Gentle tingling can turn into the crashing of white noise as the sea transforms from calm to wild.
Joy is in the sun.
When the earth winters and the sun is far, a few hot beams of light are sun-sent, like beckons in the icy dark. These rays of illumination light up a face chilled by frigid air.
Joy is in the berry.
Red, Shiraz, Merlot or Rose.
Cava, Brut or the finest champagnes! The intoxicating blend of sweet, dark berries and bubbles fill my glass with an instant celebration.
Joy is in the sweetness.
Cocoa beans and hazelnuts are the guilty sin of the soul. Rich, brown chocolate warms the tongue as it melts to a liquid finish. Bumps of hazelnuts burst in nutty goodness against sharp and happy molars.
Joy is in the music.
The cacophonous din of data swamp the mind with daily cobwebs. The blue notes of jazz and white chords of Bach cleanse the soul. Music soothes the bewildered me.
Joy is in the touch.
Firm fingers trace circles on flesh tight with tension. Oiled hands knead bread on shoulders knotted with hot cross buns. Knuckles meander down spines tightly coiled with springs. Relax. Release. Breathe. Skin and muscle yield to gentle hands.
Napowrimo Day 7 : joy poem. Finally time to post it!
Chaotic Cohesiveness ~Matrixity
The clock ticked.
The clock tocked.
Time traversed as the sun
Tangoed on it’s daily dance
Across the heavens.
I ran after the disjointed
Fragments of my life,
Trying to gather them
Into some sort of
The glue held in some places
And failed in others.
Dreams and expectations
Spilled in a tumbling stream
To sunken places.
I dove in.
I’m trying to find me.
I’m still swimming.
Life throws curves at us all the time. Never give up! #life #chaos #poem