Dissonance (November Poem-A-Day: Day 1)

Write a matches poem. The matches could be sticks that make fire. Or it could be matches from a game. Or the verb of “to match.” Or as in the phrase “He’s not a good match for you.” Or whatever other match you can make.

Dissonance

Should I draw you a picture

or would words suffice

seeing how they get twisted

when you stop being nice

When laughter turns to silence

when eyes simply turn away

thirteen months ended up

being one hell of a price to pay

Should I leave you a snapshot

or an album of fading memories

seeing how our past would be erased

and replaced with falsified stories

The firm grip of vexation

I now leave behind

the haunting of your stern look

forever embedded in my mind.

BREAKFAST DREAMS (April Poem-A-Day Challenge - Day 7...A scene of interacting without words)

without prompting or guidance

without further insistence

he fills the briki with water

takes the plates to the garden

she turns on the stove

adds sugar to the water

grabs bread, butter, and jam

which he takes from her hands

the children are gathered

around the outside table

and watch squirrels and birds

on top of the birdhouse gable

the water now boils

the briki’s removed

coffee’s stirred in

he hands her the cups

the five gather now

faces light up

smiles all around…

the alarm now sounds.

DARKNESS OBSCURES (April Poem-A-Day Challenge - Day 6...Hiding)

darkness conceals

all that is real

that which light

so strongly reveals

memories flood back

in this night’s black

of a time long gone

one fondly looked upon

beneath the years

laughter and tears

one so innocent and vulnerable

replaced with one less gullible

a time of youth

long since passed

years gone by

with wisdom amassed

light interrupts

what darkness obscures

revealing a truth

of which we’re unsure.

ONCE I WAS

Once I was someone

with bright red hair

a nose ring or two

big black tall boots

and A-line skirts

Once I was someone

with black painted nails

stark black hair

the day you met me

with streaks of white

Once I was someone

who expressed herself

by what she wore

a mere shadow now

of someone no more

Once I was someone

I recognized as me

made my own decisions

free to be as I am

a person no longer I know.

MOONLIT COBBLESTONES (April Poem-A-Day Challenge - Day 5... A Time Before)

Gas-lit streets

a horse-drawn carriage

one might long for

another disparage

corsets and petticoats

parasols and tophats

afternoon tea

with pastries so fancy

a walk so brisk

along cobblestone streets

in the moonlight of yore

no time as before

parchment and quill

a love concealed

ne’er to be revealed

with wax it is sealed.