#MicropoetryMonday – February 6 – 12, 2017

Collection of micropoems from last week! Enjoy!


Courtesy of Vector

Reality, blurred like the Christmas lights
that night
(you know the one)
They gave no assurance
or hope
because that monster
knocked your glasses off
Rushing sound
whoosh of last breath
with my vocal cords attached,
crickets stole the silence.
You asked.
Our last act.
I shouldn’t look back.
Deja vu oasis
   a tall drink of goldfish in a small pond
Games were won,
rings on bottlenecks, fingers, in your
cigarette smoke
I drank up
Extraterrestrial echoes
spiral through beams
in dreams
to reach heart chakra
Planetary ancestors
in peace I greet
If you just open your mind
& those eyes that have already witnessed
too much
(I know, honey, it’s all horrible)
You can see through the wool
Inkwell filled,
   creaseless paper,
oak desk occupied
Put the kettle on, muse
   The poet has much 
to cover this dismal night
Teeth grinding
At the Talking Heads
With no brains
in their heads
Up-rising before dawn
to get ahead
In our heads
all day long
He is my safe haven,
my shelter,
my home.
Covered in kisses,
wrapped in warm arms,
I sleep tightly
Every night
free from harms,
never alone
I ordered a kick start
straight to my nervous nervous system,
doodled in the condensation
from my lipstick stained glass.
I won’t envy the shameless
I value responsibility (though it causes vulnerability)
–A tiny sense of stability in
admitting I’m not blameless
Still from “Crimson Peak” courtesy of Geek Crusade

Moth wing eyelashes
Cranberry lips
Regal neck in sapphire
Hands on velvet hips
Silver sequined sashes
Murderous attire
Nocturnal visit,
snow owl tells me old stories,
shoo me to sleep before
the yellow sunrise,
legends under
diamond studded skies
I can hear the train whistle
Feel the cardboard cut on my ring finger
Boxes of my meager belongings
Crammed in trunks
the night I left
Gum wrapper chain exchange
When Best Friend meant something
There are many good mates now
Daisies in chains–loved ones
I can’t pick just one
Fear of water drowned him
He fought currents he should have flowed
He drank of too much that weighed him
Sank to the bottom
All alone
Senseless indulgence
Bordering between
so wrong,
so right
Tearing down barriers
Hidden shadows in the night

O, these forbidden delights!

Specter on the stairs
disrupts slumber
with his nightly climb
Muffled shuffles
Leaves no print behind
Just enough to feel
him there
Twice sugar
Twice spice
Double trouble isn’t always nice
They wear disguises to hide
Killing desires within
Pure evil has a twin
He paid a hefty price,
-tortured nights,
distant forgotten memory,
He was the sacrifice,
buried alive,
haunted by the enemy-
for a blackout
Give me your frigid temps,
your blizzards,
your snow caps,
I’ll trade my melted puddle self 
For that icy blast,
bone chilling
winter back
Storm spawns
it starts
with the pinpricks
to my tendons
travels by way
of pulses
through my spinal
fluid filled capillaries
& ends with a cranium snap
For my new cousin, Thomas

That shy, waiting bear
curling up in that warm womb,
You can come out!
We’ll do our best to protect you,
we promise!
Baby, it’s not all doom
Pale parchment hands, perfumed
in French lavender & honey
Clasped in petitionary prayer pose
Incanting contrition
on peach petal lips
clear as quartz crystal
circle ’round
fairy dust fountains
Glitter garden
dew drop daffodils scattered
where sprites splash about in
I howl
the gusts
bouncing off corners
of stucco brown buildings
for I am stuck,
a tree
wishing to be whisked,
carried away
Flickering flame
decorate my dark cave
with picturesque lullabies
painted on the stone walls
My will to stay awake
outweighs eyelid boulders
Distorted faces
melt around me
A side glance aura
Look too closely
& they possess you
Takeover terror,
quivering cold
So often the robin
on her golden rounds
will sing of springs long ago
The blue jay laments 
because yesterday’s events
meant having to let her go
Rain sighs against my window pane
Grey clouds cry, but it’s necessary today
Soft rustling of turned pages soothes
Soulful stanzas attuned
With bandaged knees
she asked me
if she would ever
be able to rise from the ground
Earth spirit,
take our hands
We fight
Believe me
Willow branches tease the shadows
She crafts love lines in the corner
Static through speakers
Her Muse’s voice lures
From far away
“Hollow World”
Behold, the hollow world of trees:
Hidden lands in spaces we don’t see
Gnomes, fairies, elves–Delight!
Dance under the moonlight
I keep to the edges
of groups
I’m not afraid of falling
Life taught me of the dangers
of being caught in the middle
There’s something in the air
A heavy, choking haze
It reeks of greed & corruption
Around every corner it is there
A dizzying daze
Salmon sweater
She hides behind 
   book binding
Foggy glasses,
pen in hair
Catch her smile
   don’t stare
Get lost in
See, I’ve tasted the heart of the deer,
my sister,
& in this moment
when memories
play like movies
& swarm me
I feel it
inside me
full bellies,
overstuffed, even
They ate of knowledge
but saved room
in their souls
for more truth
Hunger for lightning
For you
It comes like a craving
you can’t quite pinpoint
It’s the want you can’t place
It’s staring into shattered mirrors
not knowing
your own face
I still wait by that dusty door
for that missing girl to return
I should have known
by the slamming tone
that I still had lots to learn

Thorns tried hiding but
rose oil perfume stings the air.
Arise, bitter bloom.
When I’m down to
my last limb, I’ll still fight my-
self to keep writing

Your kisses, like sweet
honey on biscuits melt like
butter in my mouth
VSS (Very Short Stories):

If music makers were forbidden
souls would inevitably shut down.
Early spring. You can tell by all the coughing. Neighbors
weeding gardens again. Dogs run loose. High winds &
pollens do their dance.
Fear can be audible. When you’re so
terrified your heart tries to save you by
beating itself to death against your

Mouth moving,
quiet conversations.
The old hag & her
late night mutterings.
She screams to her reflection.
Only the ghosts answer back.
A wise woman told me that history was the light that everyone agreed upon.
She passed away.
And facts are now things no one can agree on. 

WIP (Works in Progress):

The dogs were silent and that was my first worry. The second was that whatever took them out was big enough to do it.
Silence wasn’t always scary. Thoughts about the worst that could happen never filled the void. Now fear will follow me forever.

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