“Whispers in an Empty Room”

I sit
staring out the window
waiting for his return
his voice reaches me
muffled by distance
or time
hollow laughter
following shallow promises
he said he’d come back for me
and so I waited
watching out the window
as seasons passed
it feels like just yesterday
that he left me, promising his return
it’s been fifty years

as soon as I saw this picture I saw a figure sitting in the chair, waiting. A little girl that was at the same time an old woman. This is part of her story, written for Magpie Tales and for Trifecta, which gave us the word “hollow” this week.

“Stolen Symbols”

Obverse Seal

It seems odd to me
that the symbols on our currency
hark from an age of history
long before the birth of this nation
or those from which it came.
I get the use of thirteen –
thirteen steps, thirteen pearls
thirteen arrows and leaves and olives –
but why the pyramid?
We did not escape from Egyptian rule.
We know nothing of pharaoh
of the desert vista from which they rise.
We did not
and do not live
by the grace of the Nile,
do not make offerings to the Gods and Goddesses
for prosperity and safety and health.
And the eye, all knowing and all seeing,
the Eye of Horus in another form,
twisted into some mockery
by a conquering civilization
to then be glorified and sullied all at once
on paper dirtied by many hands.
It just seems odd to me
to use these symbols, so carelessly
ignoring the history
from which they came.

Not my usual style, I know, but inspired by the photo prompt this week over at The Mag.

“Empty Rooms”

Big Room, 1948, by Andrew Wyeth

The shadows lengthen in the afternoon
spreading across the wall, creating monsters
of abandoned pictures and forgotten clocks.

This room mostly empty now
a reflection
of time’s constant march.

Once a fire burned in the center
spreading warmth throughout
now the hearth is cold, unused, lifeless.

Still there is illumination
there is hope for a brighter tomorrow
even in the quiet emptiness of a large, unused room.

Inspired by the image, this week’s offering to Magpie Tales.


Her thoughts wander to life’s little quandaries
as claret fire warm her lips and loosens her thoughts.
No amount of wishes can make right the wrong turns
or undo the choices made which brought her here.

Wondering gets one nowhere
except trapped in useless dreams.

Each night the same, fine dinner, fine wine
passing conversation back and forth like cards.
Little thought given to any of it
only idle contact without affection.

Closeness breeds weakness
an imperfection in sensibility.

To the minds of some, two are halves of one
but not closed in these ruddy walls.
Here one lingers, isolated and remote
barely casting shadows to affirm existence.

A second poem flew of my fingers today, so I had to post two for the same prompt. Giving due honor to e.e. cummings for the snippet “two are halves of one”.

“In a Red Room”

In a red room
there is time for dreaming
time for hopes to coalesce
to form into possibilities.

In a red room
there is warmth and life
fed by company
passion spawns in a glass of wine.

In a red room
words become murmurs
flocks of them moving effortlessly
from one conversant to another.

In a red room
flaws are softened
the hidden self
illuminated in the glow.

Inspired by this week’s prompt over at Magpie Tales. Lots of wonderful writers have added their vision of this prompt; go and read more!
Also shared with d’Verse’s Open Link Night 56 – 8-8-2012

“One More Hour”

The Mag - July 15

in mourning ebony she stands
withdrawn from the wailing
and carousing
dark eyes turned to watch the parade
of well-wishers walking by
each carrying protection from rain
held off only at her silent plea
“rain rain go away, come again another day”
in the distance it lingers
but does not dare press closer
allowing her one more hour before tears spill
one last respite from the inevitable downpour
as sadness envelops and consumes

My poetry has been glum a lot lately, and this is no exception, but the image rather called for it. Written for Sunday’s image prompt over at The Mag. Also written for Carry On Tuesday’s Prompt 164, which was from the children’s rhyme ‘Rain Rain Go Away’.