Forgotten Better Days – Bop with Jilly

I took up Jilly’s excellent half-poem (her words are in bold) for the Casting Bricks August Challenge.  Bop on over there for more on the challenge and the form.

 

FORGOTTEN BETTER DAYS (a Bop)

Smoke gathers round the rim of my coffee cup
remnants of the skirmish in my untouched bowl of cereal
your suitcase sits by the door, the new leather one
not the weary worn green canvas with tags from our trip
to Paris last summer
leaving me with a million

Forgotten better days and a badly written play

Blurred words seep through the wall
you on the phone with some unknown
bitter pill, I can’t breathe
past the lump in my throat and the ache in my heart
the ragged corner of the playbill haunts
me from underneath a stack of fancy invitations I’ll never send;
sliding it out, the irony singes my cold fingers
Le Dîner de Cons
 
Forgotten better days and a badly written play 

Darkened room closes in as you cross to the door
tilting my world a deeper shade of sorrow

too many words left unsaid
no turning back when you make it look so easy
quiet moments turn to suffocate memories 
I toss the photo of us smiling with the bistro in the background.

Forgotten better days and a badly written play.

Collaborative poetry – Jilly/Lynn

Muse in Melody

I’m a little bit fragile wings
a whole lot moving water,
muddy or otherwise,
just know my heart sings
the same as yours
and dreams the same dreams.

Lost sometimes in the flames we fan
ashes illuminated under heavy scrutiny
just know when you take my hand
I’m guarded, I’m fragile,
but if anyone could ever save me now
you can.

 

dVerse – Poetics: Musical Muse

Evans Blue – “Stop and Say You Love Me”

And one last nod to Harrison.

Dream a Little Dream

Flickering bulb,
corner lamp shade,
shadows crawl from the storm.
Restful sleep evades once again –
the dreams shimmer-breathed
new life into old scars.
A giggle curls the drizzle,
spilled roses echo.
The sound will forever twist
this beating heart; dawn
can’t come soon enough.

 

dVerse – Quadrille Monday.

Unreasonable Sounds

Last day of Days of Unreason (it was yesterday but I’m finally able to get this posted.)

Thank you to Jilly who offered this challenge which I’ve enjoyed immensely.  The quotes, at times, had me scratching my head, but they always inspired and gave the poetic muscles a good work out.

“Why does the mind compose this music well before the words occur?” – Jim Harrison

Listen,
do you hear that?

Simple blooms upon inspection
bumblebee buzz creates awareness

steady pulse
stung!
Throbbing
hum
murmur among the leaves
Honeysuckle hammers
through the eaves
while croaking frogs
come in from the rain.

Listen,
do you hear that? 

Refrain.

The Garden

Day 27 of 28 Days of Unreason

“It is life’s work to recognize the mystery of the obvious” – Jim Harrison


On her deathbed
she asked me if I had a garden,
which would’ve been funny
if the moment, permeated
with the smell of death,
hadn’t been so heart wrenching.
She knew I didn’t possess a green thumb,
that I’d killed more than one cactus,
and how I admired the many plants
and flowers that thrived under her care.
I wondered if it was the drugs
or if she’d simply had a nice dream.
Either way, something seemed to shift to a place
of peacefulness.
After the funeral, I planted forget-me-nots.
When the first tiny buds opened,
nothing could’ve been more obvious.