May 18th Poetry Challenge: Bite Me.

Mocking Bird Down

May 18th: Write a piece with the first word of each stanza beginning with a letter of the alphabet. 26 Lines.

woman-at-bar-painting-by-fabian-perez

Absorbed. Filled. Soaked in the smell of my morning coffee.
Body aching from the night shared with the awkward and equally
charismatic gentleman who made his way over to me only to
deliberately fumble. Stumble. Bumble. All to make me laugh.
Executed with perfection on his part. My reaction not quite what the
flirt wanted. My humour has a darkness to it that most find
ghoulish. Ghastly. Ungainly. Grizzly, even.
He gestured for me to join him for a dance. I don’t dance.
Imprudent of him, I thought. He appeared to read my mind and
joined me, sitting on the bar stool beside me, and smiled in a most
knavish manner. One I recognised and reciprocated with equal ill intention.
Lapping up every word I spoke, or at…

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The Look in Her Eyes

The Haunted Lullaby

pretty_women_640_18

She searched her heart,

She searched her soul,

She couldn’t find the words,

Cause around him she always loses control.

She tried to make her feelings translate,

But when she went to speak she stumbled,

As the words somehow got in the way,

And her brain seemed completely jumbled.

But there were no worries,

No cause for distress,

There wasn’t a need for words,

The look in her eyes showed her feelings the best.

 Photo

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~Sunset~

Weekly writing challenge May 11

Why?
Why does sunset come so early
Creeping stealthily, but occurring rapidly
Denying the beauty of a life yet to live
All becoming harsh shades of silver and grey
How to beat back the sweeping of night
Fight the snuffing of all light
Courage, hope and faith
That’s all that’s left
For a soul bereft

©Paris Poems 2015

The Art, in Breaking Hearts

Mocking Bird Down

Corazone 2

I bled, bright red
today.
I gripped the wound,
and the warmth
of the blood that pulsed
past my fingers and
ran across my breasts
onto the floor,
was a vivid
reminder.
I never was in control.
I was merely caught
off guard, and propelled
into a motion, not unlike
a speeding train.
Or falling plane.
No emergency brakes, when
it is actually an emergency.
No warning signs, seat belts.
helmets or knee pads.
No fucking parachutes.
Just the stomach churning slam,
and the knowledge that when you
open your eyes again,
nothing will be the same.
Not ever again.

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Poetry Challenge – Week of May 11th

Mocking Bird Down

The challenge this week is to use the words, sunset, silver and beauty in a poem. Each member obviously will have their own interpretation. Here she blows:

the_hooded_man_by_zaniowy-d39eioe

He smiled. He was the beast,
and she the beauty. The silver
lining that ushered in
a new hope. But,
his heart lacked the
bravery. Sunset came,
sunrise followed, and still;
she did not know his name.
And she never would.
Because he never could,
quite offer anything more
thank a whimper,
and a longing
for belonging.

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It Is

The Haunted Lullaby

Breathing New Life Into…It is

Image Courtesy of www.deviantart.com Image Courtesy of http://www.deviantart.com

It is,

The whisper of your voice,

The gleam in your eye,

The smile that cuts across your face,

The way you toss your dark brown hair,

The tenderness of your lips,

The passion of your kiss,

The way you move your hips,

The softness of your skin,

The touch of your fingertips,

The warmth of your embrace,

The sound of your heart beating next to mine,

The feeling I get when you are in my arms,

The totality of what makes me complete.

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