Luxury is defined
entirely dependent
upon the beholder;
a perspective of riches.
For some luxury means
pounds of gold
and mounds of caviar
upon crackers divine.
Some see a boat
a home
or a trip
to faraway lands.
For me luxury involves
only fresh sheets
upon which to rest
my weary bones.
poem
#SoCS – The Dog Days
I want to accept,
except accepting means
having to walk away
from having to walk
a mile in somebody else’s shoes
and let’s be honest here:
shoes don’t fit me.
I’m a dog, you see
although my owner thinks
I’m soft
I really don’t need
those rain boots she
keeps shoving on my feet
and the rain hat and cape?
Give me a break!
How does any
self-respecting dog
go out dressed like a human
and not expect
the other dogs not
to laugh?
Is that the front door?
My leash?
My… oh no, don’t tell me it’s raining…
I want to accept,
except accepting means
having to walk away
from a walk…
The shame!!
This unexpected poem is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click here and join in! https://lindaghill.com/2016/08/05/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-aug-616/
Nom
I wanna take a bite out of everything:
a donut
some fish
a giant watermelon
the girl who sits next to me in math…
I could chew thru the floor
’til I get to China
and then use chopsticks
to eat a Buddha
or maybe just a fortune cookie
that might tell me
how to get home
to my donut.
Craving is the one-word prompt at The Daily Post.
my muse
muse, you travel through me
like a song
in a dream
on the tip of my tongue
your kiss
is a whisper of magic
possibilities eternal
your touch
a gentle push to create
and through your eyes
we see worlds
until now unfathomable
your thoughts flow through me
at times unwanted,
they invade my mind.
and yet,
i can’t live without you.
wet me with your tears
shake me with laughter
shock me with your
delicious ways
and i will follow you
as though i have no choice
for the truth is
you command my every word.
Paper heart
I’m a two-dimensional figure,
posed for a display in a shop window
unable to move
unable to speak
but people walk by and laugh
and point at me as though
I have no feelings.
I do!
I am not the one who put me here
not the one who chose my pose
and yet I bear the brunt
of the ridicule meant
for my poser.
What a hoser.
He won’t even apologize.
***
Apology
Disconnect
If I can’t have you, I can at least dream you are here.
The day you died I thought I would expire with grief.
These four walls seem to mock me – outside is inches away, but here I stay.
Holding your lifeless body, trapped somehow in those moments when your eyes gazed back…
If I ever escape, I will find you and hold you and never let you go.
…there I remain. Except when I sleep, I dream you are here, my love.
My love. Until we meet again.
***
Inspired by my novel-in-progress.
soulmate
as sure as the stars
glitter in the night
i know you’re out there
searching for me
as i search for you
on every street
in every crowd
the one i’ll know
just know
is meant for me
for in the dark
each night i lay
and hear your voice
whispering love
elusive as
an echo
This post is prompted by Tuesday Use It In A Sentence, where the word of the week is Echo, and The Daily Post word of the day,
Elusive.
for young mothers
your arrival is music
to my strained ears
relief for my nerves
that threaten to pop
the hair out of my head.
you’re the sanctuary of my mind
which struggles not to leave home
to escape the cries of your offspring
for every young mother of a newborn
who is blessed to have her mate
come home of an evening
breathe
how lengthy
is the time spent
between creations
of yours
while you are deep
within yourself
diving and drowning
and unable to function
until a spark of a thought
fires your synapses
and the light in your eyes
goes from ember to blaze
and you’re elated for days
and oh, your creations
they shine!
they sing!
they inspire the masses
to dance
and be glad
and they sing along
then listen
to your background music
as they read
or make love
and you
dive back
down to
your depths
Linda G. Hill 