“Try to write a poem grounded in language as it is spoken – not necessarily the grand, dramatic speech of a monologue or play, but the messy, fractured, slangy way people speak in real life. You might incorporate overheard speech or a turn of phrase you heard once that stood out to you – the idea here is to get away from formally “poetic” speech and into the way language tends to work out loud.”
Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays and also thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting a Sunday Writing Prompt based on a Watery theme and one of the topics: Up the creek without a paddle, Wading Upstream, The River Flowing Up a Hill, and When the Fish Stop Biting.
Caramel and cantaloupe burn white,
The sun setting, in fiery depths it gleams.
We struggle ‘gainst the current, it’s our plight,
A journey many take wading upstream.
We fight not to slip, sweat-stained body’s heave,
Then, deltas and islands draw near, take form.
In felicitous breezes, drenched clothes dry clean,
Acrid earth bears us, we tremble on shore.
Caramel, Bellini sky’s, rain pours —
We clasp tight hands waiting for the ‘morrow.
Another night in the grit of sands touch,
We dream of skyscrapers, our souls believe;
We’re past the current, our fingers bold clutch,
Memories, hopes, the warmth of home found breathes.
No more suffering in past with disease.
A butterscotch sky, fresh peaches, tall palms —
The sun rises — a gift, fresh view point now gleaned.
“I tried, but I don’t love you. I hate hurting you. I’m sorry I cheated.”
“Are you? How do you switch your emotions off like that? Like a light-switch?” Jen’s voice was shrill.
Michael met her eyes but refused to answer. She stumbled into the living-room deaf to his begging. The back door slammed and his admissions ravaged her heart. These new wounds bled, sucking the life from her body. He’d hung her out to dry.
Dizziness overcame her and Jen lay on the couch, head buried in a pillow. She tried to absorb her ex-fiancés words, but her stomach was queasy and a strange ache grew inside her. It clenched and tightened, a fist squeezing her heart. Michael’s insidious behavior, shocked her. Her thoughts circled and her conscience hammered until she couldn’t stop them from revealing missed clues.
Jen was overcome with a sense of hollowness. Tears stung, traveling down the plains of her face as she peered into the fireplace mirror eyes flared-red, swollen with flat-gray irises; she felt emotionless and weary. There would be no more sunrises in life, not now, not ever.
Her heart ached, and the tangible throbbing pulsed and amplified until she couldn’t hide. Sobs wracked Jen’s body. She shivered, even when she pulled over a thick throw. Michael’s festering splinter of betrayal infected her heart and savaged her; nothing could ease Jen’s suffering.
Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this Friday’s music prompt, “That’s The Way It Is” by Celine Dion. I’m doing a form of poetry called Joseph’s Star with 1, 3, 5, 7, 7, 5, 3, 1, syllable count in each star. Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.