Self-fulfilling Prophecies

Be careful what you wish for
But the tongue rages against
Such reins and straps
Spits on the warnings
Of guiding restraint
In defiant arrogance
And without roaming
Beyond the flanks
Of its caged domain
It creates worlds
Like a magic wand
Commanding fate
To bend to its wiles
As unsuspecting realities
Into self-fulfilling prophecies
Confounding the heart
When the answer
To every mystery
Has always lingered—
Tastes of bitter licorice
Burning at the throat

Whispers of Serenity

In the quiet of eventide, while he read and she wrote, the flutter of pages would fill their bedroom. Like the soft vibrations in a bird’s wings, catching the wind’s breath in its feathers. The scratches of her pen seemed to murmur in answer of her pensive mumblings. Sounds that often followed him to the dells beyond consciousness.

Sometimes he would peek at her from the top of his book. Her hunched figure at the desk, protecting her writing as if it were some treasure. She had never allowed him to read from her book that always seemed ready to burst from all the notes wedged between its pages, until it appeared an odd and pregnant thing.

But the writings she did allow him to see, were often scattered like lucky coins throughout their apartment. Neatly folded pieces of her heart that he tucked within his wallet, until the leather bulged with every collected charm.

And on the days when he could not be with her, he would untuck each slip of paper to hear the flutters of her heartbeat; the echoes of serenity she’d given him.


Kitsch – Weekend Writing Prompt #198

It seemed Granger’s Avenue attracted all sorts. Crazies. Magicians. Higglers. Sometimes even wandering clusters of orphaned kids. But strangest of them all was the dollmaker. An old man who left his kitsch creations on the gates of each house. Cracked, wooden caricatures that were sloppily painted with garish faces. Most cursed him as an evil omen, but each family that quietly thanked him were met with a gracious fortune.


Thanks to SammiCox again for a great word challenge. I’ve never used the word kitsch before; it sounds so fancy in spite its meaning 😅

I hope you were all able to have a fantastic Saturday 🌼

When Nature Grieves

Festering wounds

Wrought within

These broken words

Emotions raw and rotted

Filled with squirming clusters

Of hungry maggots

Devouring the remains

Of a silenced voice

While the winds billow

Drenched in the sillage

Of decay

And the clouds hang low

Heaving with grief 

For the dying sounds of hope

Shattered on the rocks

Violently thrashed 

By the screaming tide

Beautiful Eyes

He appeared to her through thin feathers of smoke from her lips. She would have ignored him, but her gaze had already, unwittingly, acknowledged his presence.

Over the soft jazz playing from the speakers in the bar, he asked if he could join her. Without much of an answer, shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, she watched him take the stool next to her – his expression one of unabashed relief to have company.

She stubbed out her cigarette in a metal ashtray while he stuck a hand out, signaling the bartender whom sidled over with a broad smile as he inquired what they’d have to drink.

Without asking her what she wanted, he ordered two glasses of rum and coke. He caught the way she blinked, lips pressed together in wordless intrigue, and sheepishly admitted he didn’t have the guts for the harder stuff. He was sure he caught the first glimpses of a smile through her nonchalance.

They clinked their glasses together and his curiosities about her were met with a demure vagueness.  Most women didn’t often waltz into bars alone, unless in search of carnal indulgence. But she was only here for the music and ambience. That was all she gave him, which he didn’t mind. He liked the types that weren’t so easy to figure out.  

When she said nothing more, he offered his first name as a gesture of familiarity. But as her eyes pulled him within its russet rippling, he gave her more than just his name.

He told her of his job as an accountant and how things had started falling apart since his divorce from his wife. How she was fighting him for full-custody of their kids. Jamie and Alex; a twin boy and girl. He pulled their picture from his wallet and she could almost see where his thumbprint had engraved affectionate traces over their sweet faces.

His eyes smoked over with emotion and she touched his arm, cutting in gently to ask if he’d like to go somewhere else. Without his lips shaping the obvious answer, she saw his willingness in the smooth lick of his lips.

He followed her from the bar, apologizing that he didn’t have a car. She waved aside his apology, spinning her own car key around her index finger as she winked at him and led him to her vehicle parked on the side of the road where the streetlight flickered. 

Her home bore her reflection. Alluring in its simplicity and odd mystery. She didn’t have much furniture and unlike his home, strewn with hints of his family life, her only interest was hung in frames of abstract art.

In her bedroom, she offered him a can of beer and they talked for a bit more until she finally seduced him with a deep kiss and climbed atop him.

He was in the throes of orgasm when he tasted blood in his mouth, eyes flashing open to see her smiling through splashes of scarlet. He grabbed at the gashed flesh of his throat, desperate to stop the bleeding. Choked on confusion and fear. And all she did was lean down, small breasts pressed to his chest as she cooed that everything was okay. She kissed the corner of his mouth then pressed her lips to his eyes.

Such beautiful eyes of verdant sorrow that were now all hers.


To Know the Heart

Within onyx pupils
Keyholes swirl at the center
Of every marbled iris
Locking away
The true intentions
Lying at the threshold
Of every human heart
If only
It were possible
To possess the perfect key
That could split apart
The meaning
Behind every beguiling smile
And reveal
The honest murmurs
Traipsing every cordial word
Or is it sad
That it’s become
So hard to trust
The blooms of a smile
That could veil
Thorns laced with poison
Ready to attack
When we are most vulnerable?

The Sound of You

Paradise becomes possible

In the colors of your voice

Splattering through

The monochrome prism

Of my world

With blinding light

More radiant

Than the primrose flushes

Of dawn

Streaking the horizon

And could I sink

Within the velvet embrace

Of your laughter

I’d tuck myself away

Like a child

Cocooned in abundant sheets


To the halcyon promise

Shaped to the sound

Of my name

On your lips

An Evening Epiphany

On nights like this—

Supine beneath

The emerald trails

Of an angel’s dance

Swirls of aurora flow

In tandem

With the delicate flutter

Of a faint song


In the heart of a music box—

I realize

This is not where I belong

On this earth

Filled with misery;

Its unrelenting yearning

Unseen burdens

Bruising the spines

Of those like me

Awaiting the freedom

That calls to us

Beyond the cosmic gloaming

Losing A Friend

Connections bittersweet;
Unsuspecting bonds
Worm into our hearts
Building nests
Within the pulsing chambers
Until staccatos of reticence
Flutter into
The dulcet cadence
Of trust
And it becomes easy
To hold them there
As though
They always belonged–
To the roots of our soul

But sometimes
There is a rupturing
Hazardous and disruptive
Like the unbidden
Flails and shift of the earth
The myriad nests
Until they collapse
Some only snagged
And preserved
On stubborn branches
Of a mutual
Dogged will
While vestiges

Of those lost
Are remembered
On the hollow whispers
Rustling through
The chasms lefts behind


Am I

Not trying hard enough

To let you see

Beyond the folds

Of these frayed seams

Keeping me

From falling apart?

With razor-tipped talons

And an indelicate touch

I bear the bruises

Of your thorned caress

While the candied petals

From your lips

Silence every

Tremulous breath—

Swallowed protests

To tear my flesh

From the deep hooks

Of your love—

But perhaps

I’m the one

Gazing through

Translucent scales

Unwilling to accept

That perhaps

You never truly loved me

At all