Category: storypoems
-
Wings
She was a child not a pet, and a girl not a toy, but his tormenting bordered on cruelty only man knew how to inflict on another. They first met as children. He pulled her ponytails. He made her laugh until she cried. He called her brain dead, vegetable head, along with all the other…
-
Listening
The soothing spirit speaks. Mystical in its silence. In the whispering water. The rustling of leaves. Layers of brightness wash across the dawn. An unfolding flower, the mind begins to yawn. The inside venturing out. Like a seed bulging beyond itself. Becoming the dream of whatever being. Tiny wings pulsing. Fluttering. Lighter than love. Free.
-
Prophecy
The poet had gone insane. Ingesting a chemical substance believed by pundits of religious esoterica to be the forbidden route to God. Discovered near a dead sea were scrolls of his work written under the influence with his senses heightened and deranged, was how they came to be. Found in a vision – picture this…
-
Prayer
At the edge of a cliff lived a man who sang praises to the wind. What kept him alive was the desire to reach the ultimate dream of perfection which he hoped he might someday achieve. In a house built of stone and wood he prayed for answers while awaiting guidance in the colors of…
-
Omniscience
On route to experience the paranormal, I walked for days through a downpour of incessant wind and rain, climbing out of the storm by traversing the face of a cliff to its uppermost ridge. I found myself standing at the rim of a dormant volcano, an island high above an ocean of clouds. I was…
-
Blame
Three men sat at a table to analytically dissect the reasons for their lives going to hell. After numerous drinks and several helpings of the house specialty of lamb they found many people to recriminate besides themselves. And when asked to leave because of their boisterous conduct they blamed the waiter and unanimously agreed not…
-
Devices
I was detained and held captive by a man who sought to conquer the world. He had stockpiled an arsenal of weapons dating back to the birth of civilization – Babylonian spears, Roman catapults, Samurai swords, medieval crossbows, grenades, missiles – a virtual museum. These trophies of war were hung from ceilings, displayed in glass…
-
Oscillations
Of little substance, autonomous worlds of spinning matter interacting within a predominately empty space is who and what we are, she said. We were on a blind date prearranged by friends. It’s amazing we can communicate at all, she quipped, given the enormous distance between us, relatively speaking. Dinner was served and we talked and…
-
Clay
His body displaced the air as he walked along a sunlit path and questioned the worth of his existence. What if anything would he leave behind? He beheaded a flower to examine its ephemeral beauty and purpose, sniffing then twirling it by the stem, before tossing it back to earth. As all things return again…
-
Blur
He drove himself too fast. His life was a blur, punctuated by moments of clarity. At the altar, his wives, in the honeymoon suites, the kitchens, bedrooms, wanting love. His children showing him a toy, a picture they drew. Road signs. Looping overpasses. Changing signals. He felt maligned by the curves, forced to brake, always…