Skip to content

Archive for

death

sadness haunts me
of a day when future
generations will only
know our world
within the boundaries of
images, pictures, and paintings
yet will never have the
chance to see with their own eyes
and to feel with their on fingertips
the touch, warmth, blood, and life
of our world, how many more
times must the sun rise until
someone somewhere by chance
takes that last picture of that last
breath before something
endangered, near extinction
finally dies

made of glass

who knew that a bottle of a
sweetened chemical would be
poison to the throat but
provocative to the touch
of skin, it would be the fragrance i used to
revel in, but now removes my
strength leaving me weak,
heartless, walking unsteadily on
the fine lines of nostalgia as it
catches my fall in the air

___
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: perfume

ugly coffee

sometimes i bet all the coffee cups in the world
are all tuckered out, having to hold the weight
of cup after cup after cup of coffee, waiting
for your grumpy lips to pucker up and suck that
sugary, sweetened bitter drink out of their bodies
then given a hot shower, put away in a cupboard
only to be taken out and used again and again
for the mornings to follow

___
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: knackered

lined up

lines and strings and threads
make bread – food for thought
i push another plate of it
inside my head, i ought
to have known, nothing
can be done with old
brittle bones, i’ll put them
away and accept your
long gone, far away –
i look into
lines and strings and threads
of words and instruments and blankets for
solace when i feel
out of line, look strung out, or feel dead

milk and rain

about to rip away from the calendar
the last few days of another April –
another rainy season, leaving
my brain soggy and focus foggy
everything seems to stand still,
murmuring quietly as the milky
sky blankly stares, i’d like
to see the sun slip through
just for a moment, watch her
walk the staircase of mountains
or float on the lake, and in a moment
the skies let out the rain,
i’ll scoop it up in a cup and hope
for a sweeter May

corners of night

restless dreams
spin into a dizzying,
unending storm, taking
the form of shadows –
tearing them from the corners
of the night, settling them between
the cold, quiet places between
my blanket and the moonlight
they weigh in on me,
no longer keeping me warm
but breaking me into a cold
silent sweat until
early morning

__
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: blanket

seasoned

sometimes i walk through
spring
with
winter
in my eyes, while
summer
tries to press heat against
my skin, once i begin to warm up
within, my blood and bones
fall
into
winter again