Strawberry Lemonade

Kristen of Twinkle, Twinkle is hosting the second round of Summer of Color. This week's
challenge is Strawberry Lemonade. She based all of the challenges on ice cream inspirations.
(Thanks to Ella, of Ella's Edge, for posting about this cool challenge!)

First, some playing around with some of my photos and Pic Monkey (such an addicting program!)

and now, a poem...

Bonne Belle flavors

latched on belt loops

Maybeline kissing potion

tucked into back pockets of tight jeans

Strawberry lemonade lips

glossed and giddy

pink and pretty

shiny and shy

Could boys' kisses ever taste as sweet?

submitted for Summer of Color, Week Four, Strawberry Lemonade

Make It Stop!

For Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Out of Standard With Izy ,we are  to parody our own poetic style. I have been told that many of my poems are "bleak." I also tend to write quite a bit about having migraines. So, for fun, I wrote a bit of migraine hyperbole (just a bit!)

My head

an overripe melon 

strains 

against its skin

 I'm on my knees

praying

 puking

 rebuking the gods of PAIN

PAIN

PAIN
Ice pick through my brain

My eyes recoil

from the burn

of the LIGHT

I'm losing the fight

to retain my sanity

and my humanity

as I crumble to a mass

of retching wretched uselessness

Dangerous Things

Hodnot Spring House, Leakin Park, Baltimore, MD

Deep in the woods where black gum grow

Where children should not go

We have a place that is our own

The grown ups never know

When we go back into our woods

Adult rules don't belong

What we do we do as one

and we are never wrong

Some things you just don't speak of

Some things best left unsaid

You keep some secrets your whole life

They die on your death bed

The gang it always will protect

We watch out for our pack

But if you strike out on your own

you better watch your back

What we see in the woods that day

No one knows what's true

In the creek lay silently

a man that we all knew

Around his head the blood it pools

an accident we said

We leave him there right in the creek

Cause we know dead is dead

 

Some things you just don't speak of

Some things best left unsaid

You keep some secrets your whole life

They die on your death bed

(inspired by the book The Most Dangerous Thing by Laura Lippman)

In Death

Ophelia by Odilon Redon

In Death she makes a lovely bride

A face as gentle as a child

Her brazen eyes no longer wild

In spirit always by my side

Although I weep, I'm yet beguiled

Her magic she does still retain

In Death her beauty does not wane

but now my jealousy grows mild

For Love she can no longer feign

Her lying heart has stopped its beat

She now lies free of guile, deceit

The perfidy that was her bane

In Death, how chaste, how true, demure

She is an angel, perfect, pure.

submitted for The Mag, Mag 124