Carnations

source

Carnations

pressed between book  pages

On the flowers, fragile and faded,

I can still smell the scent of long-ago perfume

The petals fall, papery snowflakes

melting like promises

forgotten.

Written for the previous week's Sunday Mini Challenge, Triquain at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Heaven's Ghetto

Keith Haring

Love can be dangerous

Cross the wrong street-

love can be deadly

Doesn't matter how we die

Disease, murder, brainwashing, hopelessness

We all end up in the same pile of bodies

Buried by gloved hands and masked faces

Heads shaking 

Thinking "not me"

until it is

Hatred is a virus

as much as HIV

It spreads by fear

Grows stronger through ignorance

And the cure still seems miles

Away

Meanwhile

We die for love

Destined for Heaven's ghetto.

submitted for Magpie Tales, Mag 232

and Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Open Link Monday

Closets

source

There are closets in my skeleton

Gaping spaces between bones

Inaccessible places

Lacunae

Waiting for me to press "play"

or not

My ribs are not your tie rack

They sit too close

to my heart.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads,  Artistic Interpretations w/Margaret,Skeleton Poetry

Children of Decay

Overnight they emerge

Ghostly grey presence

belying the morning shine

Flat headed phantoms

balanced on thin, stringy stems

Children of decay

birthed of death

No fairy picnics under these

skeletal umbrellas

Prodders of rot

Auguries of degeneration

spreading earthy perfume

among the sweet flowers

They stand

ashen tombstones

marking time

Reminders of mortality

always reminding.

submitted (late again) for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Flash Fiction 55

Dog, you, me, dog

dog

you

me

dog

Lined up 

on the bed

Pressed together

A living panini

on a sheeted plate

Our essences mingle

wrapped in heat

wrapped in sheets

Warm, gooey, cozy treat

Sandwich perfection

dog

you 

me

dog.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Open Link Monday