Life

Down under the bridge . . .

lillian12 Comments

she rolls words round her tongue,
mingled with saliva slurs.
Thick words, rich like dark beef-gravy,
some whispered with spicey-hot plots.

She cooks up campfire tales,
huddled over dumpster fires.
Her cronies, eyes glazed,
listen intently, hands over flames.

Homeless, devastating
s’more-less, too-real scene.

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Quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words, sans title) written for dVerse where Kim asks us to use the word “rich.”  Photo from Pixabay.com

Faith

lillian4 Comments

Her faith burrows into the folds of her being.
Where there is sadness,
there is never despair.
Where there is hurt,
there is never hatred.
Love and hope shine upon her face
as she lives kindly within her days.

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Photo from pixabay.com

Contenders

lillian4 Comments

Sometimes I think . . .
we are all but two legged steeds
ruled by stop watch and finish lines.
Some struggle to keep the pace.
Others never leave the race,
gates open and off they go
pasture be damned.
Some claim the roses
only to have them wither and die,
first place noted on fraying record book.
Has beens, almost and never weres.
Frenetic trotters round the track
until age ultimately claims its due.
Then woe the beast who suddenly sees.
Blinders stripped away
peripheral vision cleared,
too late the lesson learned:
there were others along the way.
I was simply galloping too fast
flying past, eyes ahead.
I should have known,
they were the ultimate prize.

Cruelty, Thou Art Life

lillian46 Comments

Is there a beauty in insipidity,
blending in to all around? Stupidity
amassed beyond the pale,
in group-think, mass-appeal.
Invisibility, thou art cruel
spiteful invalidity.
Tread instead through morbidity
following ancient ways
as Plato did with Socrates.
Follow deeper still
with final sip,
hemlock
release.

Mish is hosting Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today she asks us to include the word “sip” within our exactly 44 word poem, sans title. For some reason, I went to the dark side with this one: “insipidity” and “sip.” Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!

Just Do It

lillian65 Comments

Squint your eyes,
tantamount to willful aperture.
Unsee dissonance, the ugly, the bad.
Visualize instead the good wherever it may be.
Work it. Become it. Traverse only there.
X marks the spot and if you believe, it can be found.

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I’m hosting Meet The Bar Thursday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. At MTB, a particular form of poetry becomes the prompt. Today, I’m asking folks to write an Alphabet Sestet! A poem of 6 lines that uses an alphabetical sequence that appears in the first word of each line. Hence, I’ve used the alphabetical sequence S-T-U-V-W-X in my poem. The first word of each line, begins with the corresponding letter of the alphabetical sequence. Line 1 starts with S; line 2 starts with T; line 3 starts with U; etc.  Any alphabetical sequence may be used: writer’s choice!
Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us. It’s easy as A-B-C, 1-2-3 in the words of the Jackson Five’s wonderful early hit! 🙂  Image from Pixabay.com

Sing Me Some Jazz

lillian14 Comments

Time’s long shadow
scats and sings.
That ole pendulum
forever swings.

Doo-ya doo-ya
doo-ya bop.
Tickety tickety
tickety tock.

That grim reaper,
got no soul.
But shit my honey,
he’s got control.

Doo-ya doo-ya
doo-ya bop.
Tickety tickety
tickety tock

Now listen good
while I’m tellin’ you.
Doo-ya doo-ya
doo-ya boo.

Live it up baby
while we can.
Stompin’ and dancin’
that’s the plan.

Jazz it up baby,
come on now.
Do some lovin’
fore he takes his bow.

Snappin’ and poppin’
and rockin’ strong.

Singin’ doo-ya doo-ya
doo-ya bop.
Ain’t no way
we’re ready to stop.

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Sharing with dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, on Open Link Thursday.  Image by freepik.com