“out of the quiet dream of blackness”

Out of the blackness of dreams
There are wild murmurous thoughts
Whirling out of the deepest recesses
Shattering the stillness and silence of sleep

Here the orb of the moon may be brilliant gold
Or instead it may be blue as still waters
Here creatures may speak with the tongues of man
Or man may bleat and bark and chirp
As nonsensical as the creatures they mimic
Here doors may not open inward, or outward
But instead may fold into themselves
Or shatter into bits at the rap of knuckles

In the quiet blackness of dreams
All sense becomes nonsense
In the black quietness of dreams
All chaos becomes reality
In the black dream of quietness
We become our heart’s longing
In the quiet dream of blackness
We are still

Written in response to today’s challenge at With Real Toads, where we are given a list of words that seem disparate and asked to use at least five. I used eight.

“Beaver, Damn.”

there he stood, staring
into the strange immovable water
awestruck and terrified
gone was his powerful tail
his pelt of water-shedding fur
and giant wood-shredding teeth
reached for a pencil, and chewed

Two prompts get smushed together today in this little piece. First, Trifextra asks us to use compound modifiers in a piece of exactly 33 words. I used two. Second, Fireblossom challenges us at With Real Toads to write a poem as if the spirit of an animal has taken over our bodies, and how they might react to that.

Cliff’s Notes Fairy Tails

beast of sooty pelt
cautiously stalking beauty
stones drag him to die

~ ~ ~

little cinder girl
until the glass slipper fits
lifted from ashes

~ ~ ~

pricked finger brings sleep
one hundred years later, a prince
bestows magic kiss

~ ~ ~

two children lost find
sweetened cabin , cannibal
witch hopes to fatten

~ ~ ~

house fell on sister
wicked witch cries for revenge
and for the red shoes

Over at With Real Toads yesterday, Izy asked us to write “Cliff’s Notes” versions of our favorite stories. You can’t get more condensed than a haiku, right? So here are five haiku versions of some of my favorite tales.


not with your head
with your heart
it is all I’ve ever asked of you
if we must part
promise me it is because your heart
tells you I cannot give what you desire
if instead
deep within
you still hold hope
still feel connection to your moon
I pray
you will not let your head rule
in a matter where hearts know best

Written as a response to the prompt at With Real Toads, which asks us to write a Hello or Goodbye. I don’t like goodbyes.

“Tea for Three” “Doctor Who”

fanciful feast, a delicate tea
something which ought to have
happened today
but the tea set is busted
and the guests all are gone
so here, have a teacake
and play us a song

~ ~ ~

Often I watch
Doctor Who on tv
but today I have no one
to watch it with me
so I’m sitting here
watching it all on my own
knowing that soon
my sweet love will be home

My weak attempts at the double-dactyll form, inspired by yesterday’s prompt at With Real Toads.

“It Gets Better”

There are tears, and there will continue to be tears
In those tears is understanding
and release
of emotions too powerful to hold in.
There is pain, and there will continue to be pain
With that pain comes focus
and clarity
and determination to overcome it.
It gets better
isn’t just a platitude.
It really will, day by day
step by step and moment by moment
if we only open ourselves
to the healing.

This is my attempt to answer the prompt today at With Real Toads.

“Sweet Misery”

Why do we love?
Why open our hearts and souls to be stolen and shattered?
Would it not be safer to remain alone,
to construct strong walls
and hide within them
protected from Cupid’s arrows?
Why do we expose ourselves to the possibility of pain?
Allow our very spirit to be crushed
by the very thing we crave?
We know it will bring us such agony
and yet we hunger for it
seek it out
endlessly expose ourselves
to self-inflicted defeat.
Love is agony
and yet it is such sweet misery.

Written in response to Kerry’s Wednesday Challenge at With Real Toads’, asking us to explore existentialism.

“Spring Afternoon”

cloudless skies
against which puffs of white stand stark
reminders of a past lost to me
a flash of brilliant scarlet darts past
a sudden cry threatens to draw a smile to my lips
shadows slowly lengthen
drawing a curtain over another day

one more day closer to life alone

Looking outside, at Mama Zen’s behest, and turning a sunny spring day into a daunting, scarey thing. Written for today’s Words Count prompt.

“I Can Feel My Heart Breaking”

I can feel my heart breaking
It feels like a slowness
spreading out from the deepest parts of my soul
like a growing chill
the coming of winter
blanketing the curves of my earth.

I have never felt such fear
never known such indecision
such unassured panic.

I have known hurt
in the throes of teenaged angst
and too-young losses.
But this
excruciating loneliness
spreading through my core
threatens everything.

My sanity.
My clarity.
My hope.
My dreams.

Lost in a limbo of loneliness.
Tumbling towards a cliff
at full speed.
Racing to the end of forever.

Written for Fireblossom Friday, which told us to write about a crack. Do cracks in my breaking heart count? I hope so.