Throwback Thursday #18

Here’s a poem I wrote about five years ago. At the time I had an assignment to write for a class, and had absolutely no inspiration. No inspiration for anything I thought was good, anyway. I penned the following poem in the midst of my frustration that night. *** The Page’s Epitaph This paper waits;…

Ars Poetica, by Archibald MacLeish

Photo by Aleksandar Pasaric from Pexels Continuing my new Monday tradition of posting a poem that has influenced my own poetry writing, here is a poem by Archibald MacLeish. I have loved this poem for years and have tried to emulate its style before, but MacLeish writes in a way that I can’t seem to…

Prophecy, by Elinor Wylie

I think I’m going to start a new tradition where I post one of my favorite poems every Monday. To start off, here’s one by Elinor Wylie which has stuck with me ever since I first read it years ago. Prophecy I shall lie hidden in a hut In the middle of an alder wood,…

Throwback Thursday #17

I haven’t done a Throwback Thursday post in a while… Here’s a poem I wrote in the fall of 2013, in the style of Emily Dickinson. *** I much prefer my dish of death Straightforward on the plate— Overt and undisguised, for here No masquerades are played—   I much prefer it clear and cold,…

My Harvest

Written for Word Prompt Wednesday.   I am harvesting the seeds sown as a child From thumbholes in the bare earth, each miniscule body Buried in them, and abandoned.   Not neglected, though. My thoughts coaxed them Leaf-curling and persistent, from crevices Not sealed after all.   But last night—in the turned-away gaze of the…

Quadrille

Written for Quadrille Monday. Violet fire is burning ‘Neath a periwinkle sky The purple planets’ turning Spins my consciousness awry— Every tendon, every figment Flushes mauve—the body burns, Crumbles in the deathly pigment, River-ruined, being spurned, Out of purple heaven hurled In the ashes of the world.   ~H

Mumei #writephoto

Written for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt and Promptober day 15.  362 words Mumei hovered a few inches above the rocky ground, ragged robes just brushing his cast-off skull at his feet. The violet sky glowered overhead with the threat of salty rain. Chaos slithered and ripped at the air, but Mumei took no notice. He…

Sticks in the Yard

It’s a beautiful autumn day, the kind where the sky’s blue looks fake and the wind turns each brilliant-hued tree into a confetti party. A little girl in running around in the backyard of the old house in the middle of the street. Except it isn’t a yard anymore; it’s actually a perilous forest, and…

Riding the Bus on a Sunny Afternoon

Photo Credit: Anurag Bakhshi 200 words Delightfully sunny, that’s what the bus driver had called it. Sunlight made her nauseated, and the blue sky–well, frankly it was painful to look at. Wednesday curled further into her window seat and brooded. What if she poisoned everyone? After all, she would rather ride in a hearse. The…