Short Rasped Poems

I am trapped in this sterile place. 

My voice is forced to pace. 

The love I once rasped about. 

Is lost in the horror of doubt. 

My trail is burned like trash. 

As if my mark is a field of ash....

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Growl
Grasp at life
Flushed out in full flight
Wind's wild moaning warmth
Frisks it, whisked
Up
From fist clench
Fingers curled tense- tight
Unfurl hurts
Gasps
Of air rasped
Hoarse sounds break from husk
Gutted heart
Thumps

Posted 2017....

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A Hungry Alien 

Saw a flying saucer that was hovering over our street
So, I walked up to it, with a view of a meet and greet

When an alien opened the door drooling at the mouth
Asked in a rasped voice was there a McDonalds about

Indiana Shaw . . . 

"True story, he, he, he" . . . ; )...

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His voice, commanding attention
Deep and loud, raspy around the edges
Slight twang, powerful, engaging
I raised my eyebrows

My attention was arrested
Social media, topic of conversation
Idiotic people skills, his point of view
I stood up and grinned

Amused, I surely was,
Fingers talking, rubbish content,he rasped
Just like silicon boobs
I burst into laughter...

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I accidentally let one loose
Sipping the communion juice 

The priest looked down
With a disapproving frown

Some parishioners gasped
Mothers, their babies clasped
The sexton's voice rasped:

Via the air displaced
We are all disgraced
The Lord's name debased ...
 
That would've been the end
But then I did it again ...
A little louder this time  
  ~ To highlight the rhyme...

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Bluesy woman carry my tune
rasped in relegation
of a crying crimson moon

Forge forth steps of beaten breath
left alone in trepidation
destined to outdistance death

Blast out those baby blues
seep past storms of surrender
climbing barriers broken out by you

Bat your eyes and croon your cries
let your soul come play for me
build me up in a knock down world
in every simple note you bleed...

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Strewn across a wide plain,
sheep bones dazzle
in the bright sun.
On the horizon,
phantoms coalesce then melt
away into watery lies.
The only sound
is the dry, papery whispers
of saltbush rasped
by a hot wind.

The stone walls of a derelict 
farmhouse make a last stand
against the encroaching desert.
A big sky has claimed its roof.
Out of the shadows
of a paralysed windmill,
a shiny black beetle 
leaves little footprints
as it wanders across the face
of this abandoned world....

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