Remnant

Trying to ignore it

They turn away

Change conversation

Avoiding the horror

Of the obvious

Ridged scar

Memory of the knife

Fine line

Between birth and death

Elation and anguish

Tuck it away in a cozy little pocket

Smooth scar

Honorable reminder of

Victory of the battle

Success of healing

Joyful legacy of life

Beautiful scar

We Write Poems -  Prompt #140

Silent Scream

Floating above the room

Looking down on their faces

Unaware of my presence

Then back in my body

Looking up at them

Still oblivious to my consciousness

As I wander

Between life and death

They don’t think

That I can hear their frail voices

Whisper of the next step,

Vital procedure

Or see the wrinkles that

Are permanently

Furrowing between their eyebrows

Tears that seem out of place

As I keep crossing back and forth

Between one world and another

Their eyes emit a silent prayer

Wondering how they cannot hear

My piercing cries

Of choosing one side or the other

Unmindful of my dilemma

And the invisible string

That they hold

Drawing me back to this side

Until we all open our eyes




Prompt #139 We Write Poems

Always Greener

Running from the hometown 

Homegrown soot

Closed minded, close knit

Judgmental looks

Immature taunts

Of the city of my upbringing

With dark cast clouds

Shadows that follow and haunt

Broken windows, rundown storefronts

Nauseating odors

Making me sad

Searching for a new life,

New beginning 

In a place just like home

With the familiar faces

Shared history

Rustic beauty and simplicity

That we all yearn for

Knowing your neighbors 

For generations

Comforted by the old cherished buildings

Congenial companions

Humorous characters

Making me feel wistful

For barefooted walks, 

Bacon scented breezes

The charm of the lovely dusk

In my romantic hometown

Fading into the sunset 






Poetry Prompt #138 - The Memoir Project

Apology to a Suffragette

Celebrating a milestone

Clutching on to my grandmother’s

Depression glass coffee cup,

Much like her,

Delicate and frail

Filled with something effervescent

Tickling my nose and thoughts

Caressing a memory

Stern gaze of disapproval

At a party long past

Holding a tumbler of vodka

For barely a moment

Drawing her ire

Glaring back, dagger looks

Between generations

Crying out for independence,

A rebellious voice

Defiantly pouring some of that

Holy Polish potion

Into her cherished

Sparkling clear

Teetotal-ing coffee cup

Gritting her teeth

Instilling fear in the room

She drank it down in one swig

Smiling for just a second,

Remembering with a wink.