Damaged feelings,
Born from negative intent.
Should have thought harder.
In response to Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge #312 found here
Tag: creative writing
White Dress
In response to Mindlovemisery’s Concrete Poem Prompt found here
Insomnia
Sleep is the enemy,
Plotting against you.
Interrogating you,
Replaying your memory.
It gossips about you,
Loud enough to hear,
It counts down the hours,
It rings in your ear.
Sleep is a witness,
To all you’ve done wrong.
It sings a shrill song,
It requests no forgiveness.
It visits me nightly.
It’s clear and persistent.
The voice never stops,
At least it’s consistent.
How can the mind be inactive enough to be taken over by a petulant voice, and yet be active enough to write poetry? The mind boggles.
Hopeful Writer | Rachael Holmes
I have had my Hopeful Writer Haiku published in the Whispers and Echoes Journal! ✨
Hope takes shape. Silence,
And a blank page, as luscious
As fresh bed linen.
Finding inner peace through creative writing. www.myfreshpages.wordpress.com
Media Mayhem Décima
Why must the press always surmise?
Listen, please stop speculating.
Twisting words, manipulating.
I always see through your disguise,
You only ever publish lies.
Media steals all the glory,
Marching on your territory.
Selling words for personal gain,
No justice for the names you stain.
Severing my private story.
In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #11 found here
Constellation Tales
Stars glow with pride.
Radiating dots of brilliance
Across the acrylic sky.
Like splatters of white gloss
On a matt black surface.
I seek to discover patterns,
Telling tales of fortune.
We lie beneath the galaxy,
And pray the lights
Guide us to a convincing fantasy.
Image credit: pixabay.com
Inspired by Molly White’s response to the prompt: Constellation found here
Two-Faced Haiku
You’re two-faced, like coins.
No change? I want a refund.
Not worth your price tag.
In response to Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge #311 found here
Honest Love Sonnet
I gaze upon the stranger opposite,
I’m wondering if he has noticed me,
I smooth my hair, and change the way I sit.
I’m coy, so shy, uncomfortable… Is he?
Why must I torture myself in this way?
I just want love to ambush me, and soon.
No time to think, no fuss, with no delay.
He doesn’t even have to make me swoon.
My friend says that I am more than enough.
He makes me smile, and helps me to get by.
Just why do I find seeking love so tough?
But then I see a glimmer in his eye.
When friendship blossoms into something more,
That’s when love is honest, real and pure.
Haunted House
My home town, is a home to many.
But houses like ours, there aren’t any.
Amidst the fog, the spotlight reveals,
This grubby house, we keep concealed.
The pyramid roof, distinct jasmine aroma,
Scuffed bubblegum walls, with a musty persona.
There is no furniture, just a worn carpet,
A grainy beige, like sand underfoot.
When crows pry, disturbing our memories,
A scarecrow spooks them, so we make enemies.
Image credit: pixabay.com
In response to the Paint Chip Poetry Prompt Challenge #25 found here
Tanka on the Shelf
A teddy bear’s view,
From the shelf above the bed,
Is of dusty frames,
And other idle trinkets.
Undisturbed, estranged, and still.
In response to dVerse’s Imaging Prompt found here
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