Shiny and New

 English Great Hall of the Late Tudor Period
(1550-1603)- photo by Margaret Bednar

I thought I might be your favorite

I knew that others

had come and gone before me

I was foolish, thought

I was special

You dressed me in silk

Gave me gold and rubies

Displayed me like one of your paintings

and I glowed in your light

As my sheen grew dull

I faded from your sight

 I begged for your attention

You were already elsewhere

You say that you loved me well

But everyone knows

that well- loved is just another way to say

Used

and you, my love, like your toys 

shiny

and new.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Artistic Interpretations, It's All About Place

Dear Mother

 “ cruel mothers are still mothers.
they make us wars.
they make us revolution.
they teach us the truth, early.
mothers are humans. who
sometimes give birth to their pain. instead of children. ”
— birth lessons, nayyirah waheed (via nayyirahwaheed)


She tells you she loves you
Then she slaps your face
Her sharp words can cut you
No time can erase
Once you make her angry,
she's silent for days
And even when she's wrong,
it's still you who pays.

When others are happy,
she mutters a curse
then retreats to her room
where she silently nurses
her bitter resentment,
her hard hearted hate
If you contradict her,
she'll get more irate.

A loving glance quickly
transforms to a glare
When you disappoint her,
you better beware
With one hand she strokes you
Stabs you with the other
You never can win
with that kind of mother.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Open Link Monday

Harvest Moon

image by gunel akhundlu

The moon is a bride

Ivory laced, she beckons

Autumn, her lover

Brings bouquets of red and gold

Leaves her at the altar, cold

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Harvest Moon and Tanka
and Poets United, Poetry Pantry 168

The Morrigan

source

You think you want me, 

that I am what you desire

Fool, you don't know me

You don't even begin to understand

My fierceness would make you tremble

My fight would make you cower

You may dress in black

and line your eyes with kohl

but I can see the fear

that lives there

When you feel the whisper

of my raven feathers and the word

"No" catches in your throat,

it will be too late

Don't say I didn't warn you.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Kerry's Wednesday Challenge, Gods in Nature 

in which we are asked to write about a Celtic (or other) god. I went with the Morrigan, Celtic goddess of Death and War

Thought For the Day

 from  Howitzer Literary Society

Creepy Jump Rope Songs

One, two, three four

Someone's knocking on the door

Five, six, seven, eight

Pounding hard; don't make him wait

Eight, seven, six, five

Pray to God that you survive

Four, three, two, one

Time is up; he found the gun.

Pretty Penny, age of eight

Tread softly by the garden gate

Plucked a bloom though she'd been warned

Pricked her finger on a thorn

Crimson drops on petals fell

Heaven's milk turned wine of Hell

Sucked the blood so thick and red

Poisoned every word she said.

("Tread softly" is one of the common names of Cnidoscolus aconitifolius, also known as "finger rot" and "mala mujer." The plant has white flowers and is  almost completely covered with sharp spines, which can be irritating and painful to the skin.)

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Words Count With Mama Zen, Eight

Cuff Bracelet

Upcycled cuff bracelet from one of hubby's old shirts, some lace, and buttons. Kinda cute, huh?

No Phoenix

inkblot by lolamouse

You love the exits

Dramatic flair

I have to watch them

Pretend I care

I’m tired of playing

the audience

Waiting for the

Next big entrance

You are no Phoenix

You’ve just been burned

You lie in ashes

The pain unearned

So brush yourself off

It’s time you learned

There is no rebirth

Though you may yearn

The star performer

And now I see

You love your mirror

Much more than me

So take your bow and

Walk off the stage

Proselytes waiting

You’re all the rage

But you’re no martyr

You have no cause

You show your scars off

To gain applause

You claim redemption 
but that's untrue

There is no savior

There's only you

You are no Jesus

You’re just a man

Bloody and beaten

Please understand

This ground's not sacred

Not holy land

No Second Coming

No God's command

You are no Jesus

And I’m no whore

You cannot save me

Not any more

You are no king so

Get off your throne

You want to suffer

Suffer alone

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Mini Challenge, Doctor Mouse Is In the House

The Unexpected Stripper

source

Raven had been working as a stripper at the Pussycat Palace
going on 3 years
She was a beautiful girl
skin dark,
eyes like blue ice,
hair shiny
and inky black as a well-oiled glock

Raven didn't love her job;
she didn't hate it either
It beat bagging groceries or
hostessing at the I-Hop

Raven was working the late shift
The moon was round and full,
a fat man's stomach after an all-you-can-eat buffet
It was closing time
Last dance
before the patrons wandered off,
lost to the night

Raven took the stage,
swayed to the techno music
and began to doubt
the trajectory her life was taking

She had stripped down
to stilettos, pasties, g-string,
and a black, feather boa
The dollars were accumulating by her feet,
wet with sweat
from desperate men's hands

From somewhere in the crowd, Raven heard,
"Take it off, baby! Take it all off!"
Raven was an accommodating and literal minded girl
so off came the pasties, and g-string,
then the shoes and the boa
The men shouted louder

Raven looked at the crowd
Sparks shot from her obsidian eyes
She grinned
Then she began to peel off her skin
Slowly
First, one arm
then the other
Gently yanking the skin from her fingers
as if it were a cashmere glove
Then her torso, her legs,
and lastly, her face

The men were stunned silent
No one moved
Next, Raven took off muscle,
tossing the scarlet chunks of flesh into the crowd
like they were signed T-shirts and she a rock star
She stuck out her tongue
at the guy who had grabbed her boob earlier that evening
She plucked out her eyes
and dropped them like ice cubes
into the drink of the guy who had called her a slut

She was bone beautiful
No one asked for a lap dance
Raven was relieved,
as it was near impossible to twerk
having no ass
The music ended and Raven
picked up the dollars,
stashed them in her eye holes,
and sashayed away

No one would ever forget
that night at the Pussycat Palace
and no one would ever speak of it.


submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Fireblossom Friday, Build a Title
and The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 124

Working the Dough

Yeast blooms in a warm bath
like living fireworks exploding
under a flourescent sky
Powdery flour is worked until
arms burn
fingers ache
then worked again
and again
transforming
into an elastic glutenous glob
Then
it sleeps
under a blanket of quiet heat
becoming its own pillow
When it wakes,
it births five little pillows
that grow in the oven
like premies in an incubator
until,
shiny and golden,
they emerge.

Wednesday's project: Challah for Rosh Hashanah

submitted for mindlovemisery, Prompt 19, Food

The Widow

She stood, staring
at the bathroom wallpaper
She had liked it once-
Now the roses were faded;
the seams showed.

The left side of the double sink
held no toothbrush or
soaps or
medicines
The bowl was dusty,
toothpaste gobs long gone.

She squeezed the Colgate onto her brush
The crimped end of the tube read
EXP OCT06
It still worked, but had
lost
all
flavor.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Mini Challenge, A Birthday in September, William Carlos Williams