Forever

I don’t know if anything inspired this poem. I think I’d recently read something about wet leaves on the ground. I just wrote.

Forever hangs in the air
Like musty, rotting leaves
It laughs at our mortality
the dying and damaged
Yet the joke is on her
Perpetual motion does exist
It is love
and love is forever

I sat eating lunch in the eating area of the Saint John City Market. It’s an add-on outside the brick main building, all glass with a view of the ally and weather. I watched two young ladies take a smoke break in the rain and wind.

Two women smoking beside a wall
escaping a January thaw
Hair blowing sideways
as hoods hide cigarettes
They laugh at the realization
forever doesn’t include them

I wrote this last night during our weekly writers get together. A vision of waiting for a bus came to me …

Busses take forever to arrive
and longer to get you to where you are going

Taxis never satisfy at
achieving linear harmony for their passengers

Jets are too much trouble
unless you are a business traveller
with nothing really important in that briefcase

Walking is the only sure way
to travel with your feet on the ground.

 

 

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Fragile

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fragile

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides Blog

I think today’s prompt, fragile, was one of the best ever. It’s great reading and was a lot of fun. Here are my attempts.

Fragile Heart

His love felt … reserved. He held something back.
Hidden in a drawer he didn’t know how to open.
He wanted to tell her, say those words of committment, with conviction
From his heart with feeling
But his lips remained silent, tight like the pockets over his hands
And this possible life of happiness and meaning walked away.

Driveway Ice

It lies flat, silent, small
sullen and still in the quiet winter morning
blue clouds guard it’s mood, its life
it hides from the day’s glory that is death
to a sheen longing for acceptance
laying in its bed, hugging its only friend, a shallow relationship
the hard black asphalt yearning for its own attention
that bottom dweller who reaches for warmth and life and love
a selfish brute who cares not for delicacy
and the hitchhiker shivers at the sound of the unknown, studded weight
It’s too afraid to scream but explodes in agony
under the morning’s Accord

New Years Resolutions

My resolution hath no constitution
A conflagration needing absolution
Confusion leading to destitution
Abandon ye the annual intrusion