Opaque Window of the Soul 


Your intentions are clear 

Why do we dance around them?

Like a broke compass pointing away 

I see the working within better 

Than I see the person you present

Toying and teasing worked years ago 

Long past the point of hoping anymore 

In your mind, justification wins 

In your heart, distance breaks even 

Lost individual adrift on unseen waves 

Tides come and go beneath your world 

Yet you spiral around blaming the rocks 

You merely stayed in the same place 

Everything else surely moved

The opaque window of your 

Colors us to your disliking

One day you’ll open it and see


<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/opaque/">Opaque</a>

Kindred Spirits – Commentary Po.em

Free to explore each other’s 

Kindred  spirits left unbound

Tastes desire longing to run

Full frontal onslaught, eyes wide

Stolen moments lost in amazement

Touching of souls; touching of faces



Another commentary po.em from  Lorraine and myself.  Her words are italicIzed.  More of her words are located at http://myfrillyfreudianslip.wordpress.com and http://25wordsmoreorless.wordpress.com

Coming to life

Your touch illuminates 

I bend like flower to sunlight

Invisible chains hold me fast 

The sense of falling looms

Trepidation gives way to fawning 

Being lost preferable to being found

The pause in breath

The will to forget everything

Same sacrifices in the sense of being

I lean toward the hands 

Desire to be clay molded and fired 

The perfect vessel for you 

Measure of A Man

Brenda stirs a glass of sweet tea.   The spoon bangs repeatedly.

“Your tea is ready.  How do you like the sweetener.” she deadpan her question. 

“It’s awful sweet.   I guess I’ll get used to it.   Dieting sucks.” Ron grabs the glass and walks back to his chair.   The exercise souls be enough in his world.

“I thought 30 grams would be enough.” Brendas voice barely audible. “How much strycnine will it take?! One more glass, maybe.”

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/measure/”>Measure</a&gt;

Tied Up in Others 

“Those words…. They were sharp as glass.  I can feel them still.” Dave’s voice monotone delivery fades away.

His mind churns them over and over.   Minutes to hours. His mind whittles away today with their harshness.

His place outside next to his garage.   Blank eyes look in the air for the answer to what consumes him.   His washed out blue eyes hide behind glasses.   Years have added wrinkles to better disguise his intent.  His salt and pepper hair match his close cut bread.  His pallid face blank from lack of conclusion. 

“I can remember… Her words started about me not doing something.  Her brown eye harden and bloodshot. I just thought… well, I can listen. But then I’ll think about the words.  I’ll start making dumb mistakes.”  Dave wave his hands explaining this to an unseen companion.

He sits back on his metal chair.  His breath pauses.  Fingers engage in hunting for a cigarette.  His lost addiction remains fresh to his body.

The chasm of what we do and how quickly it can change, spill before his feet.  A series of bumps shake his thoughts free.   

“I recon I’ll have to check on her.   She’s probably waking up.   She will probably be a little cross about the whole tired up thing.   She never was much for understanding.”  Dave looks toward the door leading in the garage. 

His eyes open a but more.   His head swivels side to side.   Inventory of his neighbors send important now. 

Dave slides forward in his chair.   Both arms come to rest at the edge of the chair to propel him up.   A simple motion seems like slow motion.   Dread suddenly checks on his face.  He had always hated confrontation. Maybe, it will be easier with her tired up a bit. 

The ordinary door leads to a garage more storage than garage.   Boxes of varies color and age stack toward lights and open rafters.   A path, five to eight feet winds through the maze of excess things. The bumping noise get more intense as he moves toward crudely made cage.  More chain link fencing leaned against cinder block wall.  A few metal poles keep an opening with a giant cocoon drifting side to side. A rap of fencing follows a soft bump.  Oddly hypnotic in motion.

“Grace, you are awake.  We didn’t have to go this way.   But now that we did… Get comfortable.   I’m not the best at things,  as you keep reminding me.  Well, I’ve had a few  hours to think it over. I’ll have to think some more about how we move on from here. Please, fur once let me think.” Dave sips at a coffee mug.  He smiles a tad. “I’ll be back in awhile. Don’t go anywhere.”

Wordle #147 – Vision

Wordle #147 “March 20th, 2017″

Week 147

1. Latch

2. Ballet

3. Levitate

4. Heliotrope ((n.) Any hairy plant belonging tothe genus Heliotropium, of the borage family, asH. arborescens, cultivated for its small, fragrantpurple flowers. Any of various other plants, asthe valerian or the winter heliotrope. Any plantthat turns toward the sun. A light tint of purple;reddish lavender. Surveying. an arrangement ofmirrors for reflecting sunlight from distantpoint to an observation station.)

5. Iridescence

6. Media

7. Passion

8. Harmony

9. Inseperable

10. Legs

11. Heat

12. Flashover ((n). The moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you’ve built up through decades of friction with the world. Electricity. a disruptivedischarge around or over the surface of a solid orliquid insulator. The moment of conflagration orcomplete incineration caused by super heated airor combustibles.)

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem

The words can appear in an alternate form

Use the words in any order that you like.

Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle

 Ballet of levitation her legs latch my eyes.   I’m turned heliotrope to the Sun.  Harmony to passion.  The need is inseparable.  Heat becomes flashover. Upon her iridescent gaze, I reduce to media bit.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/03/20/wordle-147-march-20th-2017″/

The Knife

The Knife you twist

It’s just my soul 

It’s only my feelings 

The knife you twist 

Harbors memories long lost 

Yesterday’s when tomorrow counted 

The Knife you twist 

reinforces childhood never leaves some 

pain is a commodity of empty love 

The Knife you twist 

no longer bares wounds within me 

The blood is drained, tears are 

The Knife you twist 

The only object that shows your feelings 

I hope you have memories still 

 The Knife you twist 

Makes your the perfect victim 

From your perfect lonely hand 

Walls 


Love in a void

Absence in togetherness

Feeling disconnected by choice

Reason is equally a stranger

Suspicion the key ally

Distance reinforcing gaps 

Some fiction, some real

Agitation reigns supreme

My lose is your state

Rejection in retribution 

For crimes imagined long ago

My distant voice calls out

Beside you, it travels light years

Walls erected to protect

Often leave isolation

Breath -Commentary Po.em 

Breath held in longing

Nervous eyes hoping it’s mutual

Tentative touch of hand

Waiting for return on feelings

Scarred and scared

Calm in distress, Rabid in peace

Go for the throat or heart

Another collaborative effort between Lorraine and myself. Her words are italicized. She can be found at http://myfrillyfreudianslip.wordpress.com and http:25wordsmoreorless.wordpress.com  Please stop by and visit Lorraine.  


Valentines Day

Her cold eyes hide behind a cold smile.  Another day, same places. This is agony.  Her tastes are champagne.  The dozen roses are, well nice.  The home made dinner is cheap.  Obviously, he doesn’t know the price of her dress.  And the shoes.

“Happy Valentines Day!” Allen looks at Elaine.  Her red dress clings in the right way.   His smile beams.

His modest home prefumed with Italian food.  An afternoon working to prepare the perfect meal.  Part of it on his red collared shirt.  The roses, the quick escape for her. They fit her so well. 

She stands like a statue.   This isn’t right. “Are we staying in for the night, really? “