Tea Room

That frail silhouette

with elegant pose

says nothing of her tortured substance

Says nothing of her subterranean scars

Her caves of suffocated conflict

Mouth barely above water line

 

She sips the tisane tincture tentatively

adding damp to dryness

Roiboos red lips

atop a sanguine scar

 

Suppress a shielded stare

least she turns your way and speaks

familiar tone

sister unknown

 

Seasons

She throws snowballs at the sun

Squinting with laughter abundant and true

Gasps at chromatic aberrations on eyelash tips

Ice flecks of rainbow prism dew

 

Her winter glides gracefully into spring

with daisy chains and purple peony pastime

Grass scuffed knees under shredded dress

Skips meadows humming a nonsence rhyme

 

And as summers creep and memory fades

the years they pass with startling pace

Nurture well your child within

Mirror kiss her seasoned face

MaDneSS

Once upon a restless night

I tangled in a fearful fight

somewhere between sleep and wake

With a spirit, foul and fierce

intending my frail heart to pierce

 

She pulled a knife from it’s faded sheath

and hissed obscene through ochred teeth

somewhere between wake and sleep

She sliced and thrust the blade at the air

to find I was no longer there

 

in the corner

watching us from a chair

 

 

Image featured is a photograph of a wood mask by the amazing Haida artist Bill Reid (1920-1998). Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver, BC. 

The secret

The power of a secret

lies in its exuberant details

Foaming at the mouth

threatening to spill over

Like milk frothing when your back is turned

Ingrained stain of ceramic pores

and lactic stench

 
Perhaps

best kept in the cool dark

Sealed

Shelved

Degassed of it’s sublime spritz of carbonated conceal

Till one day

stagnant and putrid

with half its truth evaporated

to concentrated memory

Dress Up

via Daily Prompt: Uniform

 

I wear a different uniform

for every lover I’ve ever known

From sexy nurse, to traffic cop

I have no clothes of my own

 

I’d be covered in flour

at some ungodly hour

to convince that I could cook

Buy some horn rimmed glasses

renew library passes

feigning interest in some book

 

Yet the only one I never wore

was that of the salacious whore…

Can you afford to pay more?

 

So I was mildly surprised at my response to the daily prompt. In my mind the uniforms have an almost halloween-esque appearance and illustrate how far we can disguise ourselves in relationships.

As we sleep

via Daily Prompt: Distant

 

Venus clings to the moon this night

Coyly bathed in his glow, so bright

She makes herself small to appease his lunar ego

So frail

after the pockmarked, crater malady of his youth

 

But, a universe-al truth: she is the greater one

calmly soaking fresh heat from the Sun

before spiralling into the distant celestial deep

wrapped in sulphurous cloud veils

as we sleep

 

I am the "little armored one", moving gently through life. Hoping to safeguard my sensitivities with layers of words and the expression of thought. Shielding my mirror neurons at times, or tasting music and spinning till I'm dizzy. Every moment here is a gift.