Poetry Drafts

100 15-word myths: 100-91

Poetry Drafts / / By

imperiallefty:

Enjoy these micro-myths I wrote for the Tumblr community. – r.p.

“They made the greyish-blue days merge into a silent dream of dancing city lights.”

— 15-word mth #100: Grey / @bluekindamood

She has ninety-nine problems and the rumors of her turned myths are all of them.— 15-word myth #99: Samantha / @sahkha

She was a bright moon on a cloudy, starless night, wondering how to be beautiful.— 15-word myth #98: Dana / @kaleidoscxpc

She could feed her loyal flock with hollow words and they’d forget how to starve.— 15-word myth #97: Lauren / @cannulatedencores

She was all that was left after the bombs fell, a cloud in the distance
— 15-word myth #96: Katie Lee / @atombombkatie

Her honorable yet damaged bones became a new kingdom for deep dreamers and derelict souls.— 15-word myth #95 : Camrie / @camtrouvaille

She wore sweet cider on her lips and dry gin in her eyes, Sunday songstress.— 15-word myth #94:

The sky broke its own sacred code, to dance with her as the world watched.
— 15-word myth #93: Aurora / @xameluz

Science made him a god. God made him a man. Man made him a fool.
— 15-word myth #92: Edward Morbius / @drmorbius12 

She awoke to a barren bosom, letting loose a hollow cry towards her motherly moon.— 15-word myth #91: Roseanna / @behind-the-veil-of-sanity

the priceless tree of wonder

Poetry Drafts / / By

I read her face – faceless in the shadows,

She speaks to me – I listen; not doubting,

Hearing her I hear; I her – I he,

Two hands – not touching,

I pursue the dreaming; I / me / he,

of her / me / she,

drowning in shallow waters,

yet deep; eyes wandering,

yet deeper; my longing,

our belonging,

the we; the coming

of age,

the becoming of us,

the priceless tree

of wonder

dripping: shivering

Poetry Drafts / / By

There is no desperation here,

No thirst or desire of further fear(s) ,

I keep the flames licking [lips],

and.

thus.

rattle.

impervious.

unsharpened knives cutting; shallow scars.

scar. car. ar. rrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

pirates did not.

knot.

cut.

cherry/lick me/wet lands/shiver,

I loved your shakes,

while you pretended;

not

to

care: shivering

iconoclash

Poetry Drafts / / By

I contemplate the arguments,

the iconoclasm; the against,

a n d

the iconoclash; the for,

amongst; amidst; in between arguments,

I sigh,

I think,

w t f

am I getting myself into

Letters from the Depths of Solitude. Of Red Flags

Poetry Drafts / / By

weirdmirrors:

insecurity is a red flag, loving you too hard is a red flag, sharing with you the music of their childhood is a red flag, calling too often is a red flag, calling too rarely is a red flag, answering too fast is a red flag, not answering is a red flag, showering you with affection—you guessed it—is a red flag (so-called love bombing), not giving you attention is a red flag, living one’s life is a red flag, having no life of one’s own is another, having a puppy while you like cats is a red flag, glowing after going out is a red flag—big times—smoking

after sex is a red flag, telling you “it’s a red flag” is definitely a red flag for me, eating too many vegetables is a red flag, selecting earrings for too long is a red flag, listing red flags is the reddest of them all

#ilikeredflags

A shoe box on the 428

Poetry Drafts / / By

I keep wishing you would drive me to where I need to be. A shoe box on the 428, just off the junction near that tall tree. The box not fit for purpose; yet I long for the cover it gives. I am not looking for a lover, just love; beneath a tree

i strum as i walk

Poetry Drafts / / By

I am worried the thirteen reasons might be enough / that the free lunch will never come / that the reflection I see is cracked; the mirror never broke in fact / my keys no longer fitting the locks / I strum as I walk / the path shaded and I never wonder why

are there canals in birmingham alabama

Poetry Drafts / / By

Are there canals in Birmingham, Alabama
I wondered as I recalled the Black Country
and our walks along the moorings,

We are no more; sadly
or am I
really
hand on heart
in any way regretting
the parting,

My worries today are more of me;
on the unexpected shadows following
the company of one and their knives
chipping; chipping; chipping away
at the timeline measuring

my life

C90

Poetry Drafts / / By

Music must have a powerful impact on a child, I suggest as I sing along to every word I hear. Dire Straits played in the car; a travelling family of one among four. Back then on cassettes; C90, with automation and jamming tapes. I remember every word sung; none of the words spoken, between the seats of an orange car of German make. I still recall the silence; the moment the music ended.

Scroll to Top