ladywolfrider
At the forefront of my mind is
The Question.
What will the answer be
When I finally find the courage to speak
It for the Universe,
And not merely my mind?
A Word sounded out across
The tongue and off the lips is born,
And even in death is remembered.
I am tired of all the Women
Stuffed into fridges
(head in the freezer when there's no room)
For the sake of a man's pain and plot.
Give me all the Girls fighting back
(Give me queens of love and war and both)
No more cheap trick sacrifice
To justify moving the story along.
The Birth of a Character
I watched as people traveled
Through the crowd.
Writer-voyeur as I
Gleaned lives from quick
Glaces.Tracking with magpie eyes
Targets changing at whim
To quilt together a whole person.
I have nothing...
nope
nada, can't think of anything to write
damn
I don't like this word
The Vase You Gave Me
Through the cracks
Slips the water, drips the water.
This vase is of no use
Anymore.The dying flowers die quicker.
What does that say about me
And the gaps that opened up in me
When you left me behind with
The sound of shattering in my ear.
Poetry and Politics
From the stage I see a glint
Of sun on metal.
From the window high
Watches the man with a gun.
No to simple a word, not gun,
But death in another body,
No still not right, maybe I have
No words. Here I am about
To die and I am debating words.
Down we go into the trenches
There is no hope left there,
Only dirt and blood and the eerie silence
That curls around us all, a shadowy lover waiting
Until the next crack of a shot frees a man's soul.
This Stone Man is No Ozymandias
Colossus ever standing his duty never done,
(for no one will ever come)
None to relieve him of his watch.
His eyes have long been glazed by moss and wind and sleep denied
His mouth a petulant angle yet to be worn away by time,
Yet still he watches for those who might come
( they will ever come)
She wanted me to write her a poem made of love and stardust.
I told her it would only be rust and bone dust, because
I didn't love her once she handed me money for my soul.
The column of you spine
Will hold you up for millenia, but
The walls of your heart are weak and without support,
They will fall at the first blow
And all that will be left are ruins.
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writing since 2011 · 43 entries · 43 days shown up
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