A palace of their own

http://sundaywhirl.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/91.j

A palace of their own 

They walk on tiptoes

hoping the house is

quiet - 

Tiptoe past their

sleeping mother, deeply drunk

a book of poetry, for virtue 

open unread on the  floor of what she 

meanly, mockingly calls 

their 'palace'

this dank, sad, unclean 

place 

They the small boy and girl 

tiptoe 

backwards from the room with soft

small footfalls diminishing and 

With their wish bestowed 

silently slip

through the back door 

The stars

smiling as each child breaks into

laughter, running hard and barefoot

hands entwined 

Just as though they

were any other brother and sister

and their mother a fine kind lady

who bends to kiss them goodnight 

In a real palace

called home

girl on the tracks

girl on the tracks

...the young girl bends, holding her small bundled burden close to her thin chest.  Throws back her head and in the morning light, drunk with the possibility of poetry and virtue visualizes a palace rather than a ditch – a whispered wish of all that is whole before she breaks, and steps over the line, into a room sparkling with marble subway tiles – her cold infant in her arms as the train roars as a sparkling ocean over them both.

7 variations on Wednesday's prompt at Poetic Asides "If I were..."

Help by Kosta Kostov

1. 

If I were ....RLB

If I were RLB

I would be on a rooftop

shouting lyrically

to the wind, the sea

and up to the stars above

that the poetry that has filled

me is now about to be shared

in a published book with all my love….

CONGRATULATIONS RLB

ON THE UPCOMING PUBLICATION OF HIS VOLUME OF POETRY

2. 

If I were ....younger still

If I were younger still

I would not fear the

gray the silver in my

hair – the peaks of

delight and valleys

of despair

If I were younger still

I would not fear the

coming of the days when

I would no longer be here

or there

If I were younger still

I would savor each

nectared drop

not looking to the future

but soaking in the present

if I could – I would -I will

For I am younger still

than I will be get to be

and vow to mindfully

enjoy all that is now

this younger than-ever

I will be again be

This youngest version

of this day’s me…

 3.

 If I were....a woman worth rubies

If I were a woman worth rubies

I would scrub the floors until

my knuckles bled and smile

If I were a woman worth rubies

I would listen to each syllable

with rapt attention never drifting

If I were a woman worth rubies

I would use each scintilla of

my intellect to further peace

and compassion and under-

standing among and between

all on this spinning cerulean

marble which we all share

If I were a woman worth rubies

I would scrub the floor of detritus

until all was smooth and

cool beneath my grounded

feet and my knuckled blood

fed the shimmer of rubies

floating in sunlight

If I were

 4.

If I were.... my own mother

I would live in silk

slim and sure

draped in confidence

on saloned settees

speaking with

rounded vowels

laughing with

head tossed

back and neck

long and unlined

eyes sparkling

in the give and

take of artist

types of all

sorts scattered

about as satin

pillows as sunslanted

light danced

through mullioned

windows

5. 

If I were.... a slug

If I were a slug

on the warm concrete

I would move

in mindful concentration

slick with the luxury

of my unhurried way

6.

If I whirr....

If I whirr

then I would

be lifting

on the rise

of perfumed

air

If I whirr

my velvet

wings would

spread and

graze your cheek

as you lied in

perfumed grass writing

poetry

there

 7.

If I were.... not waiting for construction to be done

If I were not waiting for construction to be done

Then I might not be writing aimless poems one

after another – to quiet uneasiness – just for fun

awake

Starry Night by Vera Kratochvil

awake

"awake, listen," she whispered

in giddy-voice her

very breath spilling

a tumult venture

dragging them by an

arm or leg toward a bitter

venture with a step rank

with practice

"awake, listen" she whispered

eyes glitter burning fire-

clarity solely within,
as two

small children involitionally

stumbled, barefoot

out into the starlit night 

Resolved: Embrace the Shadows

Resolved: Embrace the Shadows

Today was his birthday
He always loved this day
Black eyes shining
As a boy though he
was my father

Today, the early morning
Still dark and silent
In the kitchen
warm air
stirred
in the laughing
shadows
swirling

with no customary
cardinal he was
there
shining
Today was his birthday

Happy

***************

yesterday's first "small stone" 

There atop a crimson valentine's day box of tiny scented soaps - a yellowed picture of that little bathing-suited little girl, arm slung around her daddy's bare strong shoulder both staring with the same black eyes straight from then into today.