Bruised… #poetry #photography

gone-are-the-tulips

this once content reed, flails

wind seeks to rip from mooring

torrent twists at peace

dusk to dawn, I wrestle

hot tears silent fall

gash displaces scars sewn shut

*

But light is on the horizon

before ink sets dry

warm breeze blanket will heal

soft rain cleases wounds

faith holds this vessel steadfast

hope will make me whole

This song reminds me that I need not be weighed down by life’s burdens

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Incendiary #poetry

fire

Edges of flesh

licked by flame

I can’t feel the hurt

am numb to the pain

burns many levels

or so they claim

beyond sensation

no number named

nothing hurts tho

quite as much

when kindness is stolen

human fire’s touch

friend or family

devil’s spawn

take inspiration

leave me raw

debride the tissue

apply agonizing cream

bandage the sorrow

inconsolable dreams

stolen ideals

did you ever think

can’t create own words

in a well of dried ink

This week’s prompt at Poet’s United is Fire. My week started with an accident to my hand (because of fire). No need for much internal inspiration when you feel the prompt.

Late Night Writing #Amwriting #poetry

candle

Where were you …

when I lit the waxy wick

at 3 am

unrolled the parchment

that resisted and cracked

*

Where were you

when I inked my quill

container upended

and spilled

not so deftly I protected my craft

*

Where were you

when the words ran so fast

then flowed

into the sea with a crash

truly buoyant for a raft

*

where were you

when my head came to rest

fingers not faintly stained

sleepy head messed

asleep before I hit the rack

Where were you

?

No matter the era when you are awakened by an idea, you stumble to your desk, try to find a light, write down the words before you lose them.

It’s almost 9 am and my words are dozing… “YAWN”

What’s your best time for writing????

Photography credit: This photo courtesy of Creative Commons, Neal Fowler http://www.flickr.com/photos/31878512@N06/4598679917/

The Yellowed Ribbon #poetry #photography #amwriting

With loving eyes

I untied

the white satin ribbon

opened the book

an epic romance

our love story

red and ivory rose petals

fell like snowflakes

from the pages

I remembered

when they covered…

*

My fingers instinctively caressed

love… always… yours…

words you had written to me

 in the throes of passion

my fingertips were stained

those words would have  dried

long ago

these were fresh ink stains

words you had written

this morning

to another

Photography © L. Moon 2013

Each Written Word #poetry #photography

Each word was a thread
an interwoven part
tears like dew drops
 from a broken heart
*
Each word was a plea
silent call to you
catching the phrase
before the wind it blew
*
Each word echoed love
tumbled in the waves
polished over time
waiting for the day
*
Each word a duet
a  poem in the dust
 inscribing now my fate
your embrace, I trust
*
Each word an inspiration
of stories that I live
 inked is the promise
etched upon my skin
*
While penning, what does a poet seek ~ Fame, understanding, love, expression?
This week’s Prompt from Verse First “Writer’s are lovers”
 “Writers are great lovers… and great lovers realize that they are what they love.” ~ Ginsberg
Dedicated to a  poet I have long revered
Photography is the © work of L. Moon 2013
poets united

Death by Pen #poetry #writing

writing-a-letter1

Death by pen or so the story goes –

Today enjoy my poem “My Damned Pen”  at Pen of the Damned.

Here are a few pieces…

The black penumbra grows

rising, rising, rising

greying forms its shadow

pages turn unclear…

***

Pensive are the times

extra, extra, extra

read me between the lines…

***

Pendulum cold doth sway

left ,right ,right, left

endless sound so fey

will it never stop…

***

Pen away my life

scribble, scribble, scribble

black against parched white…