I’m Listening

but not understanding

slowly grasping
ever learning
baby steps

following direction
developing a stride

selective hearing
going your own way
breaking free

wisdom lands
solid choices made
good outcomes

mechanical tuning
fainter signals
but smiles can be heard

the universe calls for me…

Life’s Journey

Inspired by Eugenia’s Weekly Prompt – Jubilant

as we weave towards our end
rushing insanely
the bends slow us down

moments of floating
pleasurable and relaxing
harnessing our strength

the undertow
at times
sucking us down

yet jubilant moments
keep us bobbing
on the river of life

time trickles to near stop
and the river bed dries to dust
as we weave towards our end

The Burbs

Photomix company – Pixabay

Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see #108

they’d made it out
of the concrete jungle
the surroundings now
pleasant and uplifting
no police chases at 3 am
or ambulance runs shortly thereafter
birds whistling greeted them now
fresh, sweet-smelling air
wafted through the windows
chores made more pleasant
by a pleasing atmosphere
life was good!

the day started out
as any other
a hot, satisfying breakfast
lunches being made
cheeks and lips kissed goodbye with a smile
she looked forward to her day
the lady of the house
showered, primped, and dressed
she headed for the grocery store
tonight would be a special occasion
a celebration of his promotion
the fruits of his efforts to get ahead

she didn’t hear the car approach
as she closed the front door
and began to lock the deadbolt
her hand slipped from the keys
when the first bullet hit
the second one ripped through the back of her head
and pierced the wooden frame
her body crumpled to the ground
blood oozing rhythmically from her fatal wounds
a last thought crossed her mind
before fading into darkness
“the grass wasn’t greener on the other side”

Bloody Yell

Inspired by Eugenia’s Weekly Prompt – Haunting & Reena’s Exploration Challenge #204 – Filter

their cries are haunting me
i wish i could filter out
or at least dim the torment
of the wailing
of those not yet pronounced dead
hopefully soon
shrieks reduced to whimpers
then silence
on hallow’s eve


The mission was to murder all the men on the beaches of Florida in broad daylight. What a time to be alive! We stuck tight together as we got them one by one, by boat and on foot, coming at them from both sides. We were speedy and efficient.

My weapon of choice, a machete; others preferred their machine guns. They thought I left too much space for error or getting killed. Perhaps, but I liked murder up close. Death is where I found my happy place.

I smiled, hearing the men gasping for airdrawing in deep, raspy breaths.


the monumental woes
sudden jolts to the psyche
a shock of endless wounding ripples
splintering into a cascade of emotions
gigantic internal rifts open in us

flayed open in a jagged void

our mind, body and soul
doing the symbiotic dance of intense unease
putrid words heat up inside needing purged
they force themselves up and out unintelligibly
hot screamed tears flow down anguished cheeks

our reality forever changed

in time we hush our voice to gutteral moans
the liquid from our eyes slows to a trickle
the suffering seals us up within ourselves
and the sadness clings to every fiber in our being
arthritic pain felt everywhere there are no bones

living is hard

Reblog – I Shall Miss.

Will we?

the blighters rock

I shall miss the dandelion
as surely as the sun
and I will miss the end of rain
when the storm is run
I shall miss the lies of days
which promise comforts new
and the guile of midnight’s ways
of dreams that don’t come true
I shall miss the aches of age
that torment me out of bed
though more than all in life’s great plan
I’ll miss wishing I was dead.

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Rafting On The Space-Time Continuum

Oziel Goméz

Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see #89

consciousness appears
as if out of nowhere
bits and slices of memories
dot the timeline
on this journey
going towards the white light

each ride is different
of course
some experience many tumbles
along the way
others coast as if effortless
no worse for the wear

yet the hope is for an exquisite run
filled with exhilaration and joy
experiencing terrific sights
on this adventure
bouncing to new heights
without so much as a scratch

with hope our final turn towards the blind takes us gently

Reblog – Wet Death by Murray Robertson

The visual that this piece evokes almost has you imagining the leaves beneath your feet. But there’s so much more there too. Lovely!

Murray Robertson (photography & poems)

   rain falls
on cold
dead things
      from a
certain grace

green leaves
   lose some
sets in,

brown leaves
so indistinct
      lay on 
      the cold 
wet earth

      We witness,
almost silent
   as we pass

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