Where are you and what are you doing?

[29wordsforsnow]

Clad in a sheet of glistening magic
comfort rains down from the showerhead
washing Atlas' shoulders, for a moment
the feel-good heat invades the skin
drowning the burbling pain within
every second of guilty pleasure
welcome, needed, and before long
drained and toweled off

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Tending the street
filled with '23 midnight greetings
a man shuffling down the same
seemingly drunken...
- 'Neither happy nor new,' his response -
...with pain and grief
an unknown neighbor passing by
'She went, at night, with life's great thief'
his cigarette butt at the final end
the path is all empty, with nothing to tend

 

[29wordsforsnow]

How dare you
so openly
to rhyme
with sex?

I strip myself naked
just for you
barer than for anyone
to degrade you
to a little number
and see, even this
is now spoiled.

A stranger's promise
in black-and-white
always be honest
and spending my days
working for you
and your friends.

Endless nights
sorting the alibis
scribbled down in dozens hands
only to avoid you
and still the eager eye
will find the missing pieces
in this puzzle.

But, honestly
there never was
anything to call
love,
income tax,
and for that
I now pay.

 

[Dcharger]

I'm in my dinning room: Listening to music while reading Lit stories. Trying to chat w/ a few reader as well. It's only 3:30am in Arizona.

 

[Angeline]

I'm coughing. I'm sneezing.
I'm in isolation. I'm hot
no I'm cold. I need
a vacation. Two weeks
on a beach, flip flops
and sand and there
by the pool bar, right
by my cabana Brad Pitt
awaits, towel and frozen
drink oh and sunscreen
for me and he smiles
oh I think he's achoo
cough cough achoo!

Fucking virus. Oh crap!
I'm still here in bed,
alone with my nap.

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Fucking virus.

Get better soon.
And good luck with that dream vacation.

 

[Lyricalli]

My mouth is on fire
in the best of ways
(leftover Thai food)
the warmth in my belly
almost enough to convince
my fingers they're not cold enough
for gloves
that I stubbornly refuse to consider
wearing indoors
slippers on my feet are borrowed
and too big
I'm a barefoot kinda gal
and the simple socks I own
can't fight the cold floors right now
but the cats are extra snuggly
the fire gives an appearance of cozy
along with my lap blanket
and favorite sweater

A hot cup of tea
in a "fake it til you make it" mug
would be the chef's kiss
to complete this little scene
but mine says "choose love"
and the bittersweet sentiment
that holds my Earl Grey Rose
reminds me

Memories and a musing smile
make me chuckle and shake my head
at choices made
none that I think I'd change
and the warmth inside
isn't just from spice
and reheated noodles

 

[Piscator]

I'm trying to pen this week's
Creative Writing exercise,
but I'm not Thornton Burgess
and even though or perhaps
because I have degree's in
Zoology, I found it impossible
to embrace anthropomorphism
and compose a scene about
"the birth of baby raccoons (kits)
from the first-person point of view
account of their elder sister"
because to paraphrase Hobbes
a racoon's life is "“solitary, poor,
nasty, brutish, and short” with an
average lifespan of under three years
and for some reason the kits in my
imaginary story were following their
sister while crossings by a road
only to be smushed by a transport truck
while the elder sister (who really
shouldn't be much older as litter's
arrive at more or less the same time
unless Mum had lost her litter in the
spring of the previous year and remated,
which would resolve that temporal incongruity)
which precipitated a fratricidal catatonic
trauma in the elder sister while Mum
just hitched up with a nearby boar
and remated.

 

[butters]

i'm reduced
to posting invented lives
conjured into their own reality
from five prompts

and even if they connect
with others via universal experience
—all's good in the hood—
i know the difference

if the reader doesn't know
does it matter
that i'm the one left feeling cheated
posting vicariously
through head
rather than heart
poetry
or did i bring enough heart
to it to count?

 

[29wordsforsnow]

Open-mouthly staring at the rampaging remnants of a writing exercise
dearly wishing to wish someone well, but apart from the author
their just fictional, or if real, not even a statistic, which some find sad
unless I remind the world of a henhouse raided on Christmas Eve
and the quiet sound of rhymes not found in times of frozen grounds
thinking of raccoons it all seems to be quite black-and-white.

 

[Piscator]

i'm reduced
to posting invented lives
conjured into their own reality
from five prompts

and even if they connect
with others via universal experience
—all's good in the hood—
i know the difference

if the reader doesn't know
does it matter
that i'm the one left feeling cheated
posting vicariously
through head
rather than heart
poetry
or did i bring enough heart
to it to count?

butters - you always bring a full heart to your poems

 

[butters]

butters - you always bring a full heart to your poems

thankyou . it bothers me sometimes with stray thoughts that it's a fraudulent way to write rather than tear deep inside for the sadder stuff.

 

[Ambient4190]

Raccoons:

my heart my love

guardians three I will ignore

if rocket is no more

.......currently making a pot of coffee

 

[Lyricalli]

thankyou . it bothers me sometimes with stray thoughts that it's a fraudulent way to write rather than tear deep inside for the sadder stuff.

There's nothing fraudulent about it. Writing fictional stories with heart is bringing something of yourself to it, from lessons learned, things observed, even if it's not strictly your own story. It's still through your eyes, it's still a way for a writer to navigate something in themselves. I went to read the poem when I saw the post here, and it is moving and beautifully written (no surprise to me).

 

[Mrtenant]

On Hold

Working and waiting
For a dying technology
That hardly ever responds
And when it does
Why all the smoke
Blowing up my ass
The lies
The ignorance
Such a waste of time
So here I sit
Waiting
Waiting
On hold music
For twenty five minutes did they say?
Perhaps a nap
A game of chess
Coffee anyone?
Pedicure or manicure
Oh wait
How lovely to be appreciated for my patience
My heart flutters with joy