Silence

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Photo by Sally Mortemore

Silence is not merely the absence of sound

it screams solitude –

and as the contours of the day

dwindle into night

the falling petals fade –

their shadows in exchange for life.

And the rain –

crawls the broken windowpane –

where insignificant pin pricks of light 

pierce the curtains – holding back the ivy 

overgrown with a multitude of memories.

These are but the splinters of a raw existence

now wizened by the passing of their time –

each notch mouldered by cessation

and little – but the silence – to remind.

SM©2021

THEM

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With their stone backs turned by the sun

the punctuation of words creates a circle of ambiguity –

a communion of the gallant plotting a rehearsal

ear-marked to fail – sterility of thought 

only ever benefitting those in power.

SM©2021

MLMWordle#249

mindlovemisery, Creative Writing, inspiration, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, vocabulary, 

Wordle, writing challenge

https://wp.me/p4t2PZ-5Oc

FOR IGOR

Black ink stains the page 

the ballpoint scratching words 

as if remembrance was a tome 

for some hapless tragedy.

I could never have imagined 

how the pain of your leaving 

might surpass any previous sadness,

but as you curled around my head

stemming my madness,

your love climbed inside my heart.

Now you curl within my head

and your grave paws knead my sleep,

yet sleeping does not bring you close

as your sleep is now endless.

And the pen – 

it merely scratches the surface –

the colour darkening 

with every ineffective word.

SM©2021

FIRE

The streets surrender to the helpless –

the heat oppressive in its intensity;

and soggy people drown the pavements

their panting dogs prowling for attention

as the sun mottles the glass –

forbidden secrets 

hidden on reflection.

With tolerance obliterated by proximity

I am quick to escape –

to where the stone carvings

massive in their tributes

frown skywards towards the gods.

The airless humidity perplexes

every step wading through a haze of suffocation

with a hesitation to read the epitaphs of love,

craving the green under the Yew

resplendently peaceful in its solitude.

But there is nothing there –

nothing, but an empty space

and the ashes of an ancient wisdom –

Modern Man and his desire for destruction

having fired a burning bush all his own.

Gathering up the wood dust

my fingers choke with the inexplicable loss,

then on the burst of a breeze

I let the ashes fly free

the ashes of a wanton devastation

and me.

SM©2021

Written in response to the prompt wordle#247

Words given and included:

Obliterated, Forbidden, Render, Airless, Frown, Hesitation, Quick, Stone Carvings, Massive, Burst, Perplex.

One unused: Astrology

astrology, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, obliterate, Stone Carvings, vocabulary, Wordle | Categories: Wordle | URL: https://wp.me/p4t2PZ-5M6