She, Loneliest of All Skanks…

She,
eternally wailing…
for company
that will never come.

I,
running to her side…
blinded back, bloodied
by curled bladed lips.

A giant finger shushed
what lies behind the sun…
never forever;

when burned flesh and nail
exposes the finger sham,
Misery—loneliest of all skanks—
uncurls trembling lips…
and continues wailing
for companions
she knows
her blade has bled dried.

.
A Wee Note: this poem is an open window, an undeserved second chance. Someone made a nasty blunder fed by self-loathing, I think… or malice. I hope she fixes things.

linked to Poets United, Poetry Pantry 265

“Frankly, Frida Didn’t Give a Damn Either”, by SunshineShelle“Frankly, Frida Didn’t Give a Damn Either”, by SunshineShelle

Of Former Lovers

He kissed the tip of my tongue at sunrise, and I tasted gen: I would never be me without him in my mouth; my heartbeats would fade and die without him filling my veins. I was addicted to his scent, to his fluid skin, to the jolt he shot into my mind. Forever yours, I thought… But by noontime, his breath soured my day. I still wanted him. Thought, I need you… And I was wrong; for under moonlight, my tongue kissed a new lover. I am me.

a tree gone liquid,
in me this dark and shining—
my coffee-less tongue.

.
***
Process Note – After a series of stomach problems, I was advised to gradually reduce my intake of coffee… until I had to stop drinking it all together. A couple of days ago, my doctor said that it was safe to go back to a cup or two a day. I brewed my first pot grinning like a mirth-filled maniac… then I sipped the coffee… just to have my tongue tell me that we no longer care for its taste. Now I go to bed with tea, and wake up to tea. And love it like that.

Gen – I never used the word “gen” before today, so I wanted to share its meaning: information; find out about.

for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (Sunday’s Mini-Challenge: Judith Wright). Grace, the challenger, says Judith Wright started losing her hearing in her 20s. My poem was inspired by Wright’s “Five Senses”; the middle line of the haiku section of my haibun, “in me this dark and shining”, is a direct quote.

linked to Poets United, Poetry Pantry 264

Abstract Love“Abstract Love”
via

My Weird Sisters

The natural size of a coven is one,
and we are

one—
one Motherly Maiden,
one Youth-Filled Crone,
one Me (wicked dark)
one;

creating,
destroying,
and healing
(with word and deed),
we bring balance
into our coven of one…

naturally,
my Weird Sisters and Me.

.
Process Note: “The natural size of a coven is one” is a direct quote from Witches Abroad, the third book of Terry Pratchett’s Witches,  also the twelfth of his Discworld Series. Pratchett’s satirical writing is filled with wit that leaves readers roaring madly… and thinking critically.

A Later Note (added 8/8/15): When I first published this poem, I said that the quote came from Wyrd Sisters. I bet Pratchett and DEATH found it funny.

Wyrd Sisters by SharksDen“Wyrd Sisters: Discworld Cover Painting”, by SharksDen
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