englands ghost story
brown lady of raynham hall
gliding down the stairs
appearing nightly
dressed in a bridal veil
jilted at alter
April 24th 2018
time stood still
for I thought it was just another argument between my mother and father
was actually my mothers breaking point.
as the sun was setting and I was doing my best to distract the little ones
I heard her cry for help calling my name,
begging me to come
I flew a down the stairs barely touching any
I wasn't prepared for what I was about to see.
As she ran to me with tears in her eyes
and blood dripping down her wrists
Time stopped.
Everything was a blur
I rushed to wrap a towel around her wrists to stop the blood flow
but it wasn't enough
she needed to get to the hospital
after hours of waiting and the next morning arrives
I still hadn't slept
though she was far from okay,
she at least made it through the night
before bringing my siblings home
I needed to clean up the mess
with last night's events running through my head
As I wiped the blood off the walls
tears dripped from my eyes,
wondering why she would ever want to leave her babies behind.
Though she is still alive to this day,
A part of her died that day.
I only wish she could've gotten the help she needed
So I’d still have my mom today
April 24th 2018
time stood still
for I thought it was just another argument between my mother and father
was actually my mothers breaking point.
as the sun was setting and I was doing my best to distract the little ones
I heard her cry for help calling my name,
begging me to come
I flew a down the stairs barely touching any
I wasn't prepared for what I was about to see.
As she ran to me with tears in her eyes
and blood dripping down her wrists
Time stopped.
Everything was a blur
I rushed to wrap a towel around her wrists to stop the blood flow
but it wasn't enough
she needed to get to the hospital
after hours of waiting and the next morning arrives
I still hadn't slept
though she was far from okay,
she at least made it through the night
before bringing my siblings home
I needed to clean up the mess
with last night's events running through my head
As I wiped the blood off the walls
tears dripped from my eyes,
wondering why she would ever want to leave her babies behind.
Though she is still alive to this day,
A part of her died that day.
I only wish she could've gotten the help she needed
So I’d still have my mom today
Why does the sun sympathize with the man in the black shirt who is delirious with success?
That looking at the window is the door to all happiness
For him, an effective way to achieve this is with a pair of shoes
And put the gold in his shirt pocket
The sun was at my toes as I turned away from the recurring events
Patience is like clockwork when it's time to get out and down the stairs
Walk through the halls and pass by people who have dreams
Keep the burden as a sign of strength and Rest in the Kingdom of God
‘I found an explosive quill
down on the streets of New Orleans.’
It’s fun to share who I am and also learn from other writers. There was a discussion on the idea to let yourself get lost inside of another world. I made sure to speak a reminder of the inner child. The one who wasn’t jaded by their transformation as they got a little bit older. Remember to dream visit the sea occasionally. Another poet said ‘Let go of the restrictions of human eyes when you write. Speak to a smile unforgettable and a laugh infectious.’ Which reminded us of children, and how they color outside the lines. Make sure you say it how you want to. Slide down the stairs and destroy the box they try to throw you in. ‘Give yourself to your pen AND your deepest fantasies.’ I took that mantra away with me as I left the writers’s retreat.
Laced with Bald Cypress
my Muse tastes the Big Easy;
A sweet southern heat.
An old house I am led to -it is the symbol of
memories in cobwebs - like those of old lost love -
a storehouse for so many things buried in my mind.
I open up its creaking door to see what I might find.
Lovely notes come wafting down the stairs to me.
The memories buried find me.
Canis Lupus
The sound of a pin drop in the
kitchen downstairs wakens me.
I get a whiff of a strange scent
not one I can identify.
My eyes open and I can
see in the dark.
Unusual, as I always stub
my toe on something.
The nightlight is on and
I make my way to the bathroom.
I glance in the mirror and
see a strange face look back at me.
Yellow eyes, dark black pupils
look out from narrow slits.
Long pointy snout with
silky whiskers from each side.
Jet black lips curve back, reveal
yellowish curved fangs.
Pink tongue with dripping saliva
hangs out the left side of the mouth.
A full moon shines through
the bathroom window.
I feel the call of the wild
in my bones.
As I bound down the stairs
nothing can stop me.
At last I am free to live
the life I was called to.
Nancy took a tumble
And went falling down the stairs.
The slickness of the marble
Must have caught her unawares.
Yet who at 84 years old
Wears shoes with 4-inch heels?
Though since a hip replacement,
There’s a photo that reveals
That Pelosi, back at work,
Left her stilettos in the dust.
She’s sporting clogs, a look to which
She might have to adjust.
We all make compromises
As we ratchet up the years,
Though despite her new flat shoes,
She still will tower o’er her peers.
rolling wall to wall - tumbling down the hall
infamously down the stairs, sans fall.
who can be as cool as a roly poly kid?
the older lady, you can guess who, has to crawl
to make it off the floor, crawling like a babe, new.
she hopes not to stumble on the shadows that fall.
naptime and tea, my buzz, whilst the kid
endlessly tumbles his way through adolescence.
one day, the same fate awaits him as the rest of us.
but now is his time, to aimlessly go head over heels,
not in love yet, just maneuvering like a rolled out rug.
this kid with unfathomable energy until he sleeps.
She opened her heart
like all lovers do,
he was her world.
She gave him her all,
he took it all in,
told her "I love you."
He said “I love you”,
after her busted lip,
from falling in the shower.
He said “I love you”,
after her head hit the table,
from tripping on a loose rug.
He said “I love you”,
after a broken arm,
from falling down the stairs.
He said “I love you”,
but she just isn't sure,
how much more of his love,
she can survive.
It seems an eternity, waiting
for the cows to come home.
They never will, and so why
do I wait so long to take a hard look at myself?
Mirrored reflections caught in the bourbon glass,
fractured and foggy.
We drank more than our share last night,
and my memory fell down the stairs,
rolling with the bottles,
bruised,
yet always out of reach,
a blue moon waning in the distance.
The 1960s hover,
phantoms of a past we romanticize,
awaiting their return as if
a forgotten song might suddenly play,
but we can never go back,
to flower power,
to protests in the park,
to nights where anything seemed possible.
Lost in the haze of our youth.
I await their return other things,
like an old friend who swore to come back,
but never did.
Promises dissolving ithinvair,
like smoke rings we blew into the night sky.
And here I stand,
waiting,
for the cows that never come home,
for the past that never repeats,
for the moment I finally look,
deep into my own eyes,
and see not what was,
but what is,
and what might be.
A bunny feasts on a clover patch
The Keurig moans
Almost as badly as me
Breakfast
Been eatin’ the same cereal
Since 1952 (slow eater)
The debate rages
Should I put on pants
Watch the news
Let the friggin’ cat in
I slurp the milk from the cereal bowl
Been doin’ it since
You know 1952
The banana is bruised
Looks like it fell down the stairs
Easy chew
The Keurig is calling for water
Cat’s meowing for food
Firefighters just rescued a squirrel
From a drainpipe
Some guy in Pennsylvania
Wants to buy my house
“a quick cash deal’
Big decisions comin’ up
Shave shower do laundry
Watch Gunsmoke
Where’s that remote
Abandoned houses are meant for exploring,
I am way too curious to walk on by;
and don't mind the creaking, slopping old flooring,
but while inspecting this house it seemed to sigh.
I could hear rain pouring and the wind roaring,
and from somewhere deep pigeons began to fly;
then I saw her float all wispy down the stairs,
and I ran so fast I knocked over old chairs.
The girl with the looking glass
Is walking down the stairs
Daintly steps,happy lass
A girl with zero cares
The girl tumbles down
The scene a little sad
Knees hurt, torn gown
Away goes the joy she had
The girl with the looking glass
Happy as the sun
Is besmirched with the event past
Lips brushed,all happiness gone
The girl with the looking glass
Is cursed with the fate of a broken glass
Hop - two, three, four.
Socks - two, three, four.
Wait a minute! Where
Is Red One's partner?
Not over here.
Not over there.
Not behind the pillow
Or under the chair!
Red Two must be playing
Hide and Seek with them and us.
When he disappeared last time
The boy's mother made a fuss!
She told her son off because
He didn't roll them into pairs.
No. He just chucked them
Down the stairs.
Red Two is no ordinary sock.
He likes to travel alone...
Who knows what he gets up to
Around the home?
One day, he was hiding
Under the dog's chin.
Another time he was found
In the bread bin!
He's sometimes very naughty.
What do you think?
The other day he turned
Some white shirts pink!
Things sure do get crazy
When he is not on scene.
Ah! Maybe he's been eaten
By the washing machine!
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