As One #DVersepoets #TuesdayPoetics

There is a collective

misguided

assumption,

that we know the words.

Singing like rusted taps,

gargling and spluttering

our way to the chorus

where enthusiasm trumps

experience,

and pipes swell and burst

so all is noise

and furious revelry.

The wave of it crests

breaks,

washes us along

to the next line.

As real as the misting

of our breaths

as we sing.

The cold is not felt

in the thick of it.

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Bloom #DVerse Poetry Forms – #Pantoum

When you arrived as the snowdrops melted,

pressed cherry blossom to my breast,

told me love is like a flower in bloom,

already closer to an end than the start.

 

Pressed cherry blossom to my breast,

found thorns that left their marks,

already closer to an end than the start

when sorrow grew from these seeds.

 

Found thorns that left their marks,

taught me how to cut out dead wood,

when sorrow grew from these seeds

pruning became vital to overall survival.

 

Taught me how to cut out dead wood,

told me love is like a flower in bloom,

pruning became vital to overall survival

when you arrived as the snowdrops melted.

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Blame Game #DVersepoets #Poetics

So I blamed you,

because it was easy,

sweeter on the tongue.

Didn’t have the bite

of admitting

I could have been wrong.

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I’ve just been writing up three longish poems so I felt something short and sweet was in order tonight.

Once Upon A Twist #DVerseQuadrille

One sip

to poison a prince,

his teeth sunk

into forbidden fruit,

while one-true-love stands

waiting,

patient,

the perfect good girl

all fairy-tales and smiles,

alone.

Drinks her own potion,

steps free

of skin

crafted from paperbound

volumes brittle with age.

Breathes.

Finally.

Screams.

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Privilege Does Not Always Protect

Little girls are taught that boys being boys,

will torment to show their love.

 

Big girls will claim that love makes up

for bruises,

broken bones and split lips.

 

I am lucky not to have known that sort of that love.

I’ve never been struck

by someone claiming their heart beats for me

while echoing the beating with their fists.

 

When it happens to a man

they are reduced to the weaker sex,

because it’s bad enough when a woman

doesn’t have the balls to leave.

 

Without experiencing the same thing

I can’t say for certain,

but I’ve carried enough fear with me

to understand what it is to cling

to the things we know.

 

Privileged,

is a tricky word to stick

when most of us hide

the things dragging us down.

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