Posted in stream of consciousness

Golden Light

Sunday thing.

Bubble

Music – The Echelon Effect on Spotify shuffle (I do this a lot you see)

We blow bubbles into the golden sunset,
Memories trapped in worlds we struggle to relive,
Reflecting rainbows, shimmering golds
We whisper our secrets into bubbles
And send them off to shrouds of secrecy
Beyond prying eyes and probing fingers
With promises of happily ever after
If we ever make it down from there.
We were but kids, young and in false belief
There will always be more to dream
Bubbles float beyond our clouds, grey skies from there on out
We always knew they would pop
Our precious memories would come tumbling down
Held in such high regard, we would learn to see
Truths about what we’ve done
As our pristine bubble memories rain down sharp fears
We were but kids, in the golden light, wondering what we’ve done

Posted in friday fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers – Rays of Gold

Sometimes she sits on the gilded edge of the time before and the space after, watching people scurry below.

Ants unaware of their instinctual march, if they were to rip their eyes from the path would they see me?

Unaware of his mother’s harried calls a boy lets his toy train crash to the wooden floors. The glowing specter upon the golden spiral lights, reflecting and refracting shimmering beams, flickers then vanishes.

“Mommy did you see that?”

He points, though he’s suddenly unsure of the space where the dancing rays of gold once were.

His mother hurriedly leads him away.


dales-symphony-2PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Many thanks to Rochelle Wisoff Fields for wrangling Friday Fictioneers

Posted in Word Prompt

Tiptoe The Line

Imagination

I tiptoe the line
Between the ever converging
Gold and brown of your eye.
I balance so fine
On the hair pin moments
Of raised voices and tender kisses.
One day I’ll swan dive
Into the crushing distinctions,
Bringing reality rushing over daydreams.
For now …
I dance the edge of a dime,
Spinning through scenes
Painted like oil slicks on my mind.

Posted in Word Prompt

Liar That I Am

I’ve never wanted to hurt you …
Liar that I am.
I’ve never wanted to betray you …
Imperfect as I am.
I’ve only ever wanted to feel you …
Hold me in your arms again.
But I’m a liar,
A hopeless, frantic
Romantic.
Living out a fairy tale fantasy
Crashing through reality.
Finding truth
Under moss covered mystery.
Only to unveil fools gold
Where there should be
Great poets of old.
Forgive me my love
And my liars tongue.
We only wanted the
Fairy tale ending,
Sparing the real life bending.
Now I see,
One exists in the other
But my liars tongue
Can’t stop whispering rumor.
Forgive me love,
Liar that I am,
I was never the princess
In disguise.
Only a damsel
Trying to escape demise.

Posted in Word Prompt

We Just Don’t Care

WordPress Daily Prompt – Profuse

Have you ever stared into the mirror
Until you became shapes melding into objects of horror?
Eyes bleeding down into gums?
Ears running into veins?
Suddenly you realize,
We’re no more human
Than animal …
And maybe we’re far more terrifying
Because we know when we’re wrong
But we just don’t care.
Rather we stomp on through,
Dressed in profuse gold,
Declaring ourselves kings
Of land that was never ours …
And we just don’t care.


The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch

Posted in Word Prompt

Threads of Gold

I want to lie between the lines.
To feel the words moving and sinking,
Gnashing and gnawing at the chains binding them so.
I want to sink into the crevices between the melodies,
The breaths between the chords.
To feel the rhythms beating and crashing,
Tearing and thrashing at the ropes holding them down.
I would inhale every heartbroken word.
Let it sink into my skin,
A permanent tattoo of something
Too strong to break yet too fragile to hold.
Something nurtured in the dark
Until it becomes too bold.
Let the waves crash over me,
Stripping my spirit clean.
Sew my pieces with your song,
Delicate threads of gold.


The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch