MAGPIE/ Prompt #90

                                                        Photo/ Tess Kincaid

FOR THIS WEEK'S Magpie Tales, Tess has presented us with this image...


THIS PLACE

I sleep a lot
in this limbo,
rise in ectoplasmic splendor,
at this place
of crowded gravestones.

I restrain myself
from frightening
a grieving mourner,
who weeps over
newly turned soil.

But mischief pulls me
to drape myself as smoke
across a granite memorial,
to form a cloudy
question mark.

With memory and yearning gone,
other wraiths, by habit,
rise with the moon,
to float on winter's air.

I stir, as if from a dream,
to wonder
what I'm doing here.


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #89

                                                                photo/ Tess Kincaid


LOOKING FOR THE GHOST in the machine..found it!  This PANTOUM is a thank you to Tess at Magpie Tales.


DEVIL IN THE DETAILS

You'll find the trick,
how he weaves himself
into the cracks,
the ruptures, the stigmata.

How he weaves himself.
I see the stain move.
The ruptures, the stigmata,
look away, look back.

I see the stain move
out of the corner of my eye.
Look away, look back,
turn inside out.

Out of the corner of my eye,
I see the color bleed away,
turn inside out,
changes my words.

I see the color bleed away.
He natters a lie into my ear,
changes my words,
fakes my pleasure.

He natters a lie into my ear,
into the cracks,
fakes my pleasure.
You'll find the trick.


A Pantoum is a poetic form, first appeared in the 15th century in Malaysia.  The modern version is a poem of indefinite length and repetition. 


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HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

MAGPIE/ Prompt #88

                                          Lee Friedlander/ from America by Car

THANKS TO TESS at Magpie Tales for this exciting photo...so inspirational!!


LOOK OUT!

Look up,
look down,
look out!
There comes a bicycle courier
in my mirror,
dropped his duffel,
screeching taxi hits the curb,
splashes glop onto the window!
Don't open the door,
you'll hit the ice cream man!
We'll stop later...
Now?
Pull over,
I'll take a chocolate,
Mr Softee.

Ring your bell,
play that tune,
I'm a Broadway Gypsy now,
watch me kick and tap.
Is this the crossroads of the universe?
Here comes another shooting star...
a Rockette twirls into view,
grabs my breath,
heads for the top.
Her looks can kill.
Lights on, lights out,
I'm in the dark,
stagehand pushes me,
hey sweetie, take a bow.

I'm here,
Times Square!
Tomorrow's another day.
Look out!


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #87

                                    
                                                       photo/ Tess Kincaid


WHAT AN image...so much to be inspired by...thank you, Tess, at Magpie Tales.  Always tempting!
Haven't been as attentive to blogging since early July, when I entered into the stream of medical complications.  And tomorrow pops up with another "procedure".  They'll do it till they get it right!  Fingers crossed, please. 


WEBBED FEET
Eat here, or take out?
Special today, just for you...
Duck soup, Mr. Marx?


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #86

                                                The Little King/ Michael Sowa

AN INTRIGUING PAINTING...for Magpie Tales.  Thank you Tess, once more! 


HERE AND GONE

He pinches my waist,
a frivolous lover.
I give him sanctuary
till midnight.

Time flutters by.
Soon arriving,
the sunlight hours,
warmth I can't embrace.

Like pan quotidian,
he's fresh at first,
but stale
no matter the prayer.

Will we speak,
get the paper off the threshold,
turn pages?
Scrub ink from our finger tips?
Stir sweetness into
pitch black coffee?

Seems to be
another paper mache' king,

tips over,
rolls to the edge,
dives into longing.
Same as me.


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #85

photo/ courtesy of Tess Kincaid

SOMETHING ABOUT this prompt for Magpie Tales , is irresistible.....thank you, Tess!!

DELIVERANCE

Need a miracle?

Call the Flying Ganeshas.

Quick Delivery!

HAIKU to you!!

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MAGPIE/ Prompt #84

                                                         photo/ Mag 84

ENTICING....that's Magpie Tales for this week...thanks, Tess...



PATTERN

Here hovers the Rain God
pinning his will
like a bespoke garment,
to my silhouette.

Hallowed mist
slicks my skin,
my spirit goes bang
on the downbeat.

I want to surprise
with wisdom and grace,but

Brother Raven and I,
the usual act,
take wing for sightseers.

Why does the fated
weary me so?


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #83

THE SNAKE CHARMER/  Henri Rousseau. 1907

WHAT A CHARMING Painting...Magpie/ Prompt #83, thanks for the inspiration, Tess!

THE EDEN CHRONICLES

No shadow under you,

no mirror image of your outline,

red eyes Morse code a warning

that seems an enticement,

an enticement that seems a warning.

Prickles on my neck

as you slither by

to the purr of the clarion.

Belly scraping rock bottom,

barnacles, scum,

a piquant soup.

The sinister hand stirs, beckons,

a whisper hisses in passing...

"She's to blame,

herewith in mud forever"...

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MAGPIE/ Prompt #82

                                                Andrew Wyeth/ The Revenant

Thank you,Tess, for Magpie/ Prompt #82 , the Revenant of 9/11 is forever with us.



WAITING

A room
not yet found by the living,
explodes.
Is that you, essence of my love? 

What are years to the vanished?
I know what they are to the waiting.

Where are you?
Gather yourself in my memory,
open a door,
pull me in,
so we can relive existence
before the azure sky shattered.

Return with your lost face.
Are you looking for me?

Your dust still tells stories
on a shelf
where books and angels
cleave to each other.

Not all of you, today,
revenant.
Let your hand return
for a touch,
let your face brush mine
with a kiss.


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #81

                                                       Photo/ Tess Kincaid

 

SO HAPPY TO BE ABLE TO REJOIN Magpie/ Prompt #81  Hope to stay a while...thank you Tess, for the inspiration!

 

FOR WHOM?

To what purpose

are the crushed left to be observed,

for whom is this lesson?

I prefer that all archaic,

useless geometry,

be blown away.

Why stop to examine the broken,

as if we can see the heart

in each stone?

Sooner to dust

rather than later,

a flow of breath can free me

from watching decay

go on.

 

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