You, Double

Source

What are words worth

when we wield them as weapons?

We whale on one another,

whisper wicked wishes

We're wretched wrecks

Why?

We were wonderful once

Weeks waxed and waned without worry,

warm and willing

Where are we now?

Waiting, weary

Welcoming winter.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Open Link Monday

Wisteria

photo source

Wandering wildly

Wisteria winds its way

Warm weather welcome

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads,This Prompt Brought To You By the Letter W

Pain(t)ing

Willard House by Lisa Gordon Photography

They took my books

Said all that reading wasn't good

for a woman's mind

So I started writing

They burned my papers

and spilled my ink

Said my useless nattering

just proved that I wasn't 'right'

What else could I do but paint?

I painted the walls with my monthly blood

I painted the nightmares that visited my bed

I painted the screams stuck in my throat

But mostly, I painted rage

Deep, dark, red rage

I should have known better

An insane woman is an embarrassment

An angry woman is a danger

So they put me in this place

with bars on the windows like a jail

or a zoo

to be punished

and tamed.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Artistic Interpretations with Margaret, Willard Asylum

Lessons on Lying

I was never really his friend
I hated his orangy hair and luminous pale face
his omnipresent cardigan,
the color of burnt cinnamon
But he came from a good family
I mean, from money
and I was not at all rich or romantic or polished
so I pretended to love him
The sex and all?
How I hated that stuff!
Kissing his spongy lips
was like diving face first into a container of raspberry Jello
But my philosophy was
to do whatever it took to escape
Little did I know
that he was waiting to escape too
and he did-
from his family
and from the dark alley of my dissemblance
When you least expect it,
someone grows up
and gets it right
I doubt if I ever will.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Next Stop Wonderland, in which we are asked to randomly open 3 books 3 times each, pick words that catch our attention, and use them in a poem. My 3 books were The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Catcher In the Rye, and the Orchid Thief.

Devil Child

evil eye amulets at Cargo in Portland, OR

Foot of the rabbit, evil eye

Moon birthed a daughter on the brink of July

Wear a horn and sign the cross

All your gold will turn to dross

Devil's child with angel's hair

Lock eyes and you best beware

She'll kiss you then she'll eat you whole

Leave your bones but take your soul.

Mrs. Murphy's House of Heads

photo by lolamouse (Cargo in Portland, OR)

The advert in the paper read

"Mrs. Murphy's House of Heads"

I found it down a dead end street

A small house, completely discreet

except the window sign that said

"Mrs. Murphy's House of Heads."

I went inside to have a look

and in each cranny and each nook

was tucked a head, some big, some small

I couldn't even count them all!

Some heads were happy; some were sad

Here was a lass and there a lad

Some heads were ugly; some were fair

Some heads were bald and some had hair.

Each head upon its neck did sit

I found it creepy, just a bit

But I had come to buy a spare

It's said I lose mine on a tear

I wondered what a head would cost

and how the ones in here were lost!

I stood there staring, lost in thought

when someone asked me what I sought

Twas Mrs. Murphy, her fine self

arranging heads upon a shelf

"How can I help you?" she asked me

"I need a head you'll guarantee

will stay attached should I get mad

much better than the ones I've had."

"Come right this way, I think I know

a head that will fit you just so!"

She lead me to a little room

all full of heads that I assume

were packed with thought, with smarts, with wit

the choicest heads that would befit

a person of my pedigree

but which one would she choose for me?

"The head you have right now's first rate,

but if you want to trade it - GREAT!"

"But I want an extra head

I want to keep mine too," I pled

She said, "That's fine, no need to beg,

I'll let you  pay with your left leg."

"No way! I want to keep the pair!"

"I hardly think that that seems fair!"

she said to me with great alarm

"But I suppose I'll take an arm."

I spoke, "You know, I've changed my mind."

I thanked her but at last declined

It costs too much to get a head

I'll keep just what I have instead! 

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Poems in April, Whozits and Whatzits Galore

Passover Blessing

In

April

We remember

Our lives as slaves

Long  ago  in Egypt

Eat unleavened bread

to   commemorate

the    Exodus

And we pray

for others

to be

free

 Ba ruch 

 A  t a h 

 Ad o nai 

 Eloheinu 

 M e lech 

 ha-Olam 

a s h e  r 

 kid 'shanu

 b'mitzvotav 

v ' tzivanu

 l '  had lik

neir  shel

Yom Tov 

Blessed

Art Thou

O,   Lord

Our  God

King of the

Uni v erse

Who  Hast

Commanded

Us to kindle

the light of 
the holiday

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Mini Challenge for Easter Sunday

The Last Supper

tHE wine won't wash down the dreary WEariness
of this
MEal
meant to NOurish so why am 
I empty
the plates
grATE
teeth
clenched
fistS under napkINS
I fold
Dinner's COLD
as YOUr stARE.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Avant Edge: e.e. cummings

Letters

We found them
when we cleaned out your house
You had saved them
all these years
My letters
tied with a pink ribbon
kept in a shoebox
in your dresser
As I read through them
I saw my writing change
from big, round letters
to cursive
to hearts dotting the 'i's
to hurried adult scrawl
I met myself
as a child
a teen
and an adult again
Thank you
for giving me back a piece of
myself.

submitted (late again!) for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, FB Friday, Postmark: Poetry

Secrets

source

 There are things we kept secret

After all, who wants to know everything

about the one they love?

Mystery is more enticing than mundane

and the unknowable is irresistible

So there are things we kept secret

after even decades had passed

and thousands of nights in the same bed

There are words we never spoke

Wishes we never shared

Walking around with dark glasses on

we bumped into edges of expectations

and tripped over each others'  hopes

until we were both so bruised

it hurt to be around each other

There are things we kept secret

after they didn't matter any more

after we bled until there was no more blood

when it was time

to either mend the holes

or die.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, A Month of 5 Sundays Mini Challenge, There Are Things We Kept Secret