Posted in Photo

QPD – Leftover

Leftover beauty

Milk in my hands

Though I squeeze every crevice of skin together

It seeks out the cracks

Slivers of space where thought once existed

It bleeds over my knuckles

Counting the moments

One by one

Lucious seconds dripping to the floor

Opaque shape shifting shadows

Of a minute hand stuck

Though the clock ticks on

Posted in Photo

QPD: Tornado Watches

It certainly doesn’t look stormy in the picture. As it warms up we’re still victims of various cold fronts traversing the country. Warm air and cold air don’t play nicely.

At least rain makes the best sleeping weather which I can really appreciate right now. I’ve found myself struggling to stay awake during the days. I even took a nap on my lunch break today. It’s that foggy overwhelmed tired topped with actual exhaustion from not sleeping well at night. I’m told this makes sense and that all of this lock down and distancing stuff is actually kind of traumatic.

Posted in Word Prompt

Silhouettes in Glass Houses

WordPress Daily Prompt – Popular

Silhouettes in Glass Houses
Strike dubious poses,
Against the blood-stained roses,
That line the window sill.
Tell your fears to the tall man in the dark.
With his whip and chain
He’ll cleanse your tainted spirit.
Painting a spattered scape
Across the black lit window.
Popular spot, this one.
Art they call it.
No one can see
Through the one-way pane.


Yesterday I completely forgot to plug our collaboration and the posting by Grabbety!

This week is all about writing routines, check out Grabbety’s advice, Writing Routines, In Search of Creativity

We’ll have more throughout the week from the rest of our amazing partner’s in crime. 

Posted in Word Prompt

The Subtlety of Dying

WordPress Daily Prompt – Thorny

What did it feel like?
Dying I mean?
Was it cold?
Or wet?
Kind of like being born again?
Was it light,
Or dark?
Or maybe a bit of both?
Did you know then,
When it happened I mean?
Did you see God?
Heaven and Hell?
Or was it just space and time,
All melding together in one?

The sweet soul gives a wispy smile,
Dying, her voice echoes,
Well, I do remember that well.
Momma told us it would be ok,
It wouldn’t hurt at all.
But it was kinda like falling,
Your stomach flies to your throat
And down to your toes,
Except it’s all at once.
Then you land,
And it’s kinda like landing
In your grandmother’s old roses,
When you fly over the handlebars
For the very first time.
It’s all excitement and adrenaline.
That is until you land,
Then it’s kinda thorny.