Abdication By Your Design

lillian29 Comments

I decree:
I am the Queen of Cooland.

See me shimmer and shine.
Bling me with stardust.
Bring me gold and silver sugar crystals
to savor upon my tongue.
Bring me dime store diamonds
glitter glue, sequins, and bangles too.

This bench, my throne.
This broken branch, my staff.
I fling riches upon my subjects,
kernals of golden corn their joy.
Why do you not share your riches with me?
No bows, no smiles, no understanding.

Can you not see me?
How can you pretend I do not exist?
My royalty wrapped in newsprint,
I wear the remains of your misdeeds.
Can you not feel shame
as I mutter my royal decree?

Pigeons shit on my command.
They coo at my feet,
jewel my crown.
I am the Queen of Cooland.
This is my decree.
The End.

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Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where Paul hosts today, asking us to write a poem that somehow deals with “the end.” Pub opens at 3 pm.  Come imbibe some words with us!

Film Noir, Take 37

lillian40 Comments

Graveyard journey.
Ghosts whisper, dance,
twist, shimmer.
Breeze skips through leaves.
Clouds balloon, curl, drizzle,
storm bubbles open.
Lightning sparks, sounds echo.

Dawn spills, melts rose-red.
Peppered blood-shadows
scar green spring grass.
Nervous giggle jars grin,
breath flickers.
Cue still lull.
Death stokes fear. 

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[INCLUDES ALL THE WORDS THUS FAR]
A second quadrille (see below for explanation) Infestation, also posted today, uses only today’s prompt word “fear” – but in a unique way. Hope you’ll read it also!

Victoria hosts Quadrille Monday today at dVerse,  Quadrille: a poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Each time a word prompt is given: week #1 = Quadrille #1 and 1 word; Week #2 = Quadrille #2 and a new word; etc.  We build to Quadrille # 44 in week 44 with still another word. We’re on Week #37  and the prompt word is “fear.”  Past words this series have included flicker, pepper, dance, bubble, grin, lull, melt, shimmer, twist, skip, green, breeze, spill, rose, journey, jar, leaves, open, shadow, cloud, spark, cue, breath, scar, curl, whisper, dawn, ghost, giggle, drizzle, still, echo, sound, storm, spring, and balloon. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time.  Come join us!

Infestation

lillian57 Comments

Panders.
Off-loads guilt.
Loose lips abandon civility.
Instead spew
trite narcissistic patter.
Intimidates.
Cruel Machiavellian rule
steeps rot within.

Oh too similar to those
familiar with the

fruit fly who gloats over spoils
eviscerates solid cores
avariciously deteriorates the good,
reduces life to rot.

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An Acrostic Quadrille written for dVerse where Victoria asks us to write a quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words) using the word “fear.”  Acrostic: a poem in which the first letter of each line spells out a word or message. Note the first letter of each line from top to bottom in each stanza. You’ll find three words, including the prompt word for today. Apologies to those who do not care for poetry as commentary on the state of politics today. You might instead enjoy my second poem, also published today: Film Noir, Take 37. 

 

I wonder . . .

lillian56 Comments

if star dust is available
to those who seek a glimmer of hope

if lunar paths lead to satin slippered elves
ready to grant a wish

if buttercups picked yield petal tea
when imbibed bloom happiness

if imagination can quell fear
set pen to page with gut wrenched honesty

if simplicity can softly pad its way
through a cacophony of bombastic lunacy

I wonder
how to reach Neverland

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Shared with dVerse where it’s OLN time.  Open Link Night – no prompt. A time to share a poem of your choosing.

Lost Bell

lillian43 Comments

School was officially out for the summer. But somehow, Bell was lost. A precocious first grader, tall for her age, she’d ended up in an empty hall. I can’t miss my bus! Ma will be so mad! Where is everyone???

She saw a weird machine-thing hanging on the wall. Climbing on it, standing tiptoe, her hand just reached the window. Oops. The black handle-thing fell off. The machine buzzed. Bell pounded on the window and screamed for help. Standing by her small charges in the driveway, Mrs. Verizon heard the ruckus. She hurried inside to find the distraught Bell.

phone-booth-jhc

Word Count: 100  Written for Friday Fictioneers where the inimitable Rochelle Wisoff-Fields presents a weekly photographic motivator for flash fiction (a story of 100 words or less). Photo credit: J. Hardy Carroll. 

Metaphoric Journey

lillian32 Comments

She remembers hot spots,
hands thrown up in disgust.
Exploded resentment
spewed words laced in spittle.

She walks this Icelandic landscape alone
breathing sulfuric stench.
Eyes sting, nostrils flare.
She feels and sees and hears
the earth stew, bubble,
seethe and steam.

Flumes sputter, gain strength,
spray vitriolic anger.
Shielding her eyes,
she searches for some shade of green,
some sign of hope
beyond this godforsaken land.

If she stands still
she understands now,
she will be consumed.
img_5042-3img_0314-3

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Our host is Kim and she’s talking about “flexing your verbs” in a poem about a landscape. Photos were taken outside Reykjavik, Iceland on our recent trip. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come imbibe some verbs with us!

A Haibun for Bilbo

lillian43 Comments

We drove for miles ‘cross lush countryside, the majestic Kaimai Range in the background. Rolling hills in myriad shades of green were everywhere, always dotted in white. There are more sheep in New Zealand than people.

We finally reached the sprawling Alexander family farm, centerpiece of J.R.R. Tolkein’s Middle Earth. Setting out on foot to stroll the Shire, we were enthralled by the massive pine known as the Party Tree, the scene for Bilbo’s eleventy-oneth birthday. We walked along paths that led to vegetable, herb, and flower gardens – each different in shape, texture and color – next to thirty-seven colorful Hobbit Holes. Delightful miniature sheltered smials. Underground homes built into the hills, with roofs covered in grass and clover, and windows so low we had to crouch as if to take a peek. A clothesline was strung with miniature work shirts. A small wheelbarrow leaned up against a tree stub. We were giants walking through a magical world.

lily of the valley
miniature belled flower tops
tabby cat traipsing through

 

Written for Haibun Monday at dVerse where Toni is hosting today, giving us free rein in terms of a topic. Haibun: prose (not fiction) followed by a haiku (must have a nature theme). Photos from our wonderful trip to New Zealand. We visited the 1,250 acre Alexander family sheep farm outside Auckland, NZ, home of the mythical Hobbiton. The rolling topography, huge trees and lakes were deemed the perfect spot for 17th century Middle Earth immortalized in J.R.R. Tolkein’s The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. 

Urgent Plea

lillian12 Comments

Standing in lunar light, hands extended to cloudy, star studded skies, I scream to the heavens. Silhouette me!

This cursed disease. It is a time machine with rusted levers. Disengaging cogs cranking ever more slowly. They will stop far too soon. I cannot leave shadows behind. Dark thoughts of what-ifs and could-have-beens. Family and friends who will only remember the deep hollows of my eyes. The chaffed dry skin pulled tautly across these brittle bones.

They deserve better. I deserve better. Realign your celestial scrim! If there be Ursa Major, then let there be me. A forever galaxy of light.

freedom-1330003_1920

Originally written for a Flash Fiction challenge/competition I saw — to write a piece of 100 words or less, using the word “silhouette.” Unfortunately, I waited too long and the deadline was past. Assurances to my readers: this is fiction. Photo in public domain at Pixabay.com

That Evil Night

lillian47 Comments

A winter tale of gusting winds
the might-have-beens
his tale of woe
forsaken beau

She left him ‘neath the midnight moon
collapsed in swoon
his feet like stone
his heart didst moan

Her kiss did curse his soul that night
his monstrous plight
’tis blood he needs
on necks he feeds

fear-653629_1920Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets.  Today Frank asks us to write a Minute Poem. Another poetic sudoku!  Entire poem contains three 4-line stanzas and a total of 60 syllables. Each stanza must have 20 syllables and a syllabic structure/ rhyme scheme arranged in this manner:
Stanza One: line 1 = 8 syllables, end rhyme word A; line 2= 4 syllables, A again; line 3 = 4 syllables, end rhyme word B; line 4 = 4 syllables, B again.
Stanza Two: identical to above EXCEPT rhyme scheme is CCDD.
Stanza Three: identical to above EXCEPT rhyme scheme is EEFF.
And to throw in one more constraint for good “measure” — it should be in iambic meter
which is short, long accent; short long accent; etc.
And of course, the challenge is to have the sense of the poem outshine the form!