The world is ending.
Hard to accept
The world is looking
Kafkaesque, and
Its course is getting
Coarser.
Will cockroaches overrun
Once microbes are done?
The world is ending.
Except, not now.
So let’s linger
Over a cold brew,
Talk ’til it’s all gone.
Another quadrille for DVerse, plus I’m responding to FOWC and MLMM’s Saturday Mix: Double Take. Also, there’s something about those chairs and the focus of that photo that I really like.
I wrote this for MLMM’s photo challenge #381, and also for yesterday’s one-word challenge, although it’s too late to link up to it at this point.
No contemporary movies
In this old, abandoned place,
Yet how many stories
Might that light retrace?
Which ghosts of the past
Still fill those rows of seats?
Sans knowing these stories,
Is the present complete?
Photo courtesy of Jonny Joo, One Big Photo.
The MVB prompt, “Tags,” made me think of how the eating disorder made me obsessed with the size of my clothes — the smaller the better. It didn’t matter that some brands have different ways of sizing; if I didn’t fit into size X pants, then that was unacceptable.
This poem is also for FOWC: Falling and for MLMM’s Saturday Mix, which is about antithesis (using opposites) this week. Linked with the Writers’ Pantry at PSU.
Putting worth in the tags of clothes,
Thinking a letter or number knows —
Such a rough road, no smooth sailing,
Always thinking the wearer is failing
Therefore worn down, to despair falling.
Thankfully, a new way’s always calling:
No longer to sit so sad in shadows,
But to stand against what Life would oppose.
Today, on Sunday, I am writing for the Saturday Mix at MLMM. This week we are challenged to write a nonet, which I had done before but not for a while. It is similar to an etheree except one line shorter. Since today is the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary into Heaven, that was the topic I chose for my nonet today.
Jesus’s precious Blessèd Mother,
At the end of her earthly life,
Was taken up to Heaven,
Her body glorified.
Mary, Queen Mother,
Crowned with 12 stars,
Intercede:
Pray for
Us!
Image from image search (i.e. not mine)
A 40-word free-verse poem for the Weekend Writing Prompt and for MLMM’s Saturday Mix: Opposing Forces. I’m really liking the Weekend Writing Prompts, especially when they are short. 🙂 My poems tend to be relatively short.
Too much time in the desert,
The drought-dry place starved of rain,
Always wondering, waiting, praying for an oasis —
Found when an act of love
Triumphs over unkind rays of hate:
It’s not a mirage, although
It may be brief.
I am taking part in First Line Friday at MLMM today. As I wrote a poem rather than a story, the given first line is actually the first 2 lines of my poem.
August approached,
In a golden, sweltering haze —
August approached,
As fears of the future encroached:
What will come after summer days?
Yet in multifaceted ways,
August approached.
Inspired by the Sunday Writing Prompt at MLMM (it might be a little too late), “The Little Things.” Also for FOWC: Realm. The other day, I was in my backyard and noticed a beautiful flower, so I took a photo of it. I posted it to Instagram with the caption (in part), “How can you be sad when you are looking at a flower like this?”
Another poem for the Immersion prompt, this time a Rondeau in response to the photo challenge #374 from MLMM. The photo is below and is by Marta Bevacqua.
This is in response to MLMM’s photo challenge #373, the picture for which is below. I’m not sure who took the picture, but it wasn’t me.
The city street is the sky,
Filled with stars of bokeh headlights
Out of focus; upside-down eyes
Fill with interesting, surreal dreams,
Wishing they could be never-ending.
There’s danger in the way this body’s bending.
I don’t want to fall from the railing.
My current world’s just failing.
This free-verse poem is for FOWC: Lament and MLMM’s Saturday Mix and is shared with today’s Writers’ Pantry.
We can have hope of Heaven,
A foreign land and yet the
Human heart’s native place:
Mountains and valleys of the Earth
Are beautiful, yet can’t replace
The God in whom souls find their rest.
We can have hope of Heaven:
Mountains and valleys of the Earth
Cause tiredness in wanderers’ feet,
The journey sometimes horribly long.
We rejoice because faith makes strong,
Yet lament that there are no shortcuts.
