Guilty

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Guilty

Once I was a daughter
with infinite innocent sleep
playing dress-up and walking on air

until the day I woke up.

Then I did what every poet did—
composed untamed rhyme
from prayer to prayer

like a solitaire ceremony,
rewriting my memory

without knowing why.

~~~

2017 April PAD Challenge: Day 19

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The Stoning

The Stoning

I know this face,
chiseled stone.

He pulls to the side of the road,
gravel spits at our legs,
mine shaking, him yelling,
at you
to get in the car,
teethed curses spilling through
the window.

I know this face.
His face.
In your face.

What ‘re ya?
Stupid?

Door slams
closing out the ink of diesel,
the exhausted overpass,
Well, are ya?

Goodyear’s churn with
your lies from the comfort
of our backseat cave.

I am a stone face.
Watching.

I know this face.
Chiseled. Scraped.

An absent father.
Playing at guilt.
Driving.
Driving.

You ask me to fix your
hair as if it was the wind
of traffic that mussed it.

When you give me the
barrettes, I stare at the
pink hickey on your neck.

I can still smell his buddy’s
stink on your hands.

I am stone-faced.

****

This poem was prompt via dVerse, where we are encouraged to write about a memory, memory in general, or the memory.

Deep eyes

Image 1sojournal Poem J.lynn

Written for PAD Day 23 Write a Deep Poem

Geode Manipulated Photograph
Elizabeth Crawford

When he is gone

clip_image001

         “When he is gone”

Who will brush the steely sunspots
from your eyes when he is gone?
When night ascends and wandering
thoughts loop through dungeons dark
and pungent?

Who will sound the battle cry when
“take ye in remembrance of me” is
no longer your joy?

When he is gone and when evil shakes
you awake in the night and you don’t
know where you are, and you don’t
know who you are, who will wrap you
in lace and kiss you upon the wings of
heaven’s gate?

                ***

 

Written for PAD Writer’s Digest
”When he’s gone” prompt.

Photo: Steel and Lace

Moonlit memory

image

Standing to the left of her
night but right in the center
of love, silk mystery calling
from behind, opening to
heaven above and the
fragrance of the paths she
walked on Earth, now void
of yellow and sway.

 

Writer’s Digest PAD
Two fer Tuesday: right and left poem

(I combined them)

and 1sojournalPhoto prompt

Blossom In Moonlight
Pen and Ink Drawing w/ Digital Background
by
Elizabeth Crawford