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Emily Parent Poem
Towards the moonlight, he glances out the window.
Never wanted this, but, if the pain goes away...it works.
He pulled the slightly rusted, yet glinting, object from its obscure hiding place.
The limb is ready.
It's now...or pain forever.
A scarlet recipe.
Gravity calls sweetly to the dark liquid, it glides through the air downward.
Caught halfway through its journey, the drop is snagged by a soft, white plain.
It looks around, soft tufts jut out everywhere, other drops have been captured, too, it noticed.
The devastation arises, worry is clear.
The drip wishes to warn the next victim of Gravity's sweet call.
Atop the limb where the drip first fell, others gather and await.
Gravity calls up and, one by one, slowly they creep to the edge, ready to leap.
He glances towards the stars, "Don't worry, Sis, I'm coming to join you."
The object, now glistening scarlet, falls victim to Gravity's call as the drops fall faster.
He slumps down in his chair, letting the limb rest at his side.
His breaths are short and painful.
His eyes...jaded.
His body...still.
The pain is gone.
Looking down over him, in the light of the moon, she sighs.
Copyright © Emily Parent | Year Posted 2017
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Emily Parent Poem
Floating softly o’er the pale blue water,
Small tufts of ash spin and twist,
As raging blasts of colour burst from above.
Peaceful is the harbour while the land is frantic.
The brick and mortar crumble,
The shrieks and cries drowned out by the roar of flames.
Looking down from heaven,
The gods cannot help.
As the blaze rained down o’er the water,
An acrid scent wafts through the city.
800 years of history,
A day and a half to rip it down,
Disappearing into the rubble.
The truth of disaster,
Lost in the thrill of it all.
The sultry air thick with smog,
A city short of breath.
Parliament is aflame.
Copyright © Emily Parent | Year Posted 2017
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Emily Parent Poem
It was a silly little thing,
I thought I could survive it.
But it followed that monster everywhere,
And I knew it would divide us.
It's tiny little button nose was the cutest thing about it.
It's slimy tongue and whiny cries would all but keep me near.
I knew I’d have to leave it behind, the monster and its follower.
So I picked a ball, a red one, and threw it far outside.
But to this day I won’t forget;
The ball was bouncing in the road, but
The only thing that brainless creature saw
Was the monster that it followed.
Then that stupid little mutt,
In all in nasty glory,
Lept out the door and bit the monster in the butt.
Copyright © Emily Parent | Year Posted 2017
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Emily Parent Poem
Memory serves a purpose only some truly know;
A reminder of what was, what is, and what can change.
Few understand that we would not be here, if not for memory.
And so it is memory that we have to thank.
Memories show us precious pictures and movies of the past
We learn from those and we move forward.
But as we move forward, we hardly forget the past.
Regular memories may fade as time passes us by,
But special memories will never leave us.
These special memories are what help us when times are tough.
They lend a hand when we don’t even realise we need one.
Special memories are of the people closest to us.
Our loved ones.
The ones who, even if they pass before us, live on forever in us.
They live on forever in our hearts
And in our memories.
Our memories keep us strong and connected.
Connected to who we are inside and to each other.
Each person's memory varies and each remembers things differently
But regardless of how someone remembers things,
The fact remains that they still remember
And people will keep remembering for as long as there are people to remember.
Copyright © Emily Parent | Year Posted 2017
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