Tragic October
Stitches our tattered bond every doubtful night.
But your lies, keep ripping us apart.
The curtains patch our battles from the world to hear.
We Are Queer Geese
Our honks and hiss transform
Rebellious riots into pride parades,
Peer-pressure shame into defiant love,
Fragile weakness into gorgeous strength.
The Burial of King Henry VIII
Gazing on King Henry's corpse did we stand,
Not a solider stood saluting, as his farewell shot,
Satisfied faces stood there, no rose in the hand.
Helping or Enabling?
My thoughts on this are that there are people who would step up in order to show concern for others. A community pantry has been a really good thought for those who have started and those who followed through it.
Strangeness
In the dimly lit corridors
Between the two realms
Of sleep and consciousness
Are lost in the cruel haze
of wakefulness
Beginning with “M”
For the impossibilities
Have faded in yesterdays
Be grateful that memories
cannot work
All That’s Left Is Mud
Due to being created by and inhabited by
Dirty, corrupted, sick humans,
The world is covered with
Muddy contradictions and romantics.
Come To My Parlor
"Please do come to my home,"
Whispered the lonely spider
To anyone who came by.
The Summers of ’69 and ‘19
The Summers of ’69 and ’19 is written by Michael Natt and shared with The Ugly Writers. The Summers of ’69 and ‘19 Those were the best days of my life – Bryan Adams These are the best…
A Commitment Ring
A Commitment Ring is written by Tabassum Tahmina Shagufta Hussein and shared with The Ugly Writers A Commitment Ring It was a winter morning. Nina just couldn’t get up from the bed. A kind of joy captivated her. There were…
Changed Heart
We say hello...we say goodbye So many times, we tried to fly Our hearts are broken but still, we try
Melting Moons & Threading Stars
They paint magenta over black skies
or pale blue over white clouds.
Some painters dab their brushes
in magenta skies others in clouds.
Juice Box Girl
somewhere stranded
someone's balcony
memories undefined,
you will find me there
stretched naked, doing
the Electric Slide,
taking morning selfies
Grandma
I regret every single day I made her cry. I regret being a stubborn kid. But most of all, I regret not spending her last hours with her. You know, the idea of losing her hurts a lot. But that very moment that I lost her, I lost a huge part of my life. A portion of me died with her.
Native I am, Cocopa (v3)
I am a mother, proud.
My native numbers are few.
In my heart digs many memories
forty-one relatives left in 1937.