observations from a broken window…

observations from a broken window

there appears to be
no particular pattern
to the way the glass
has shattered
all around my feet
it’s difficult
to determine
the angle
of the throw
or
the thrower’s
size and weight
just another
stone of hate
hurled through
the stifling smoke
of anger
a stone
anointed
with the rancid oil
of their blind belief
a belief in words
transcribe
and
compiled
by men
i wonder
though
how often
they’ve thrown
their books
of faith
through
windows

storm watch…

each
tomorrow
is a series
of scenarios
played out
carefully
in his head
before dawn
choreographed
conversations
with
people
he will never meet
along la’s
city streets
so
most
never occur
but
his mantra
of anger
is chanted
each night
till the next
dawn

path of wrath…

by River Urke and charles wm. martin

the molten steel
of this anger
flowed onto the plains
of his reason
scorching the fertile
ground of his thoughts
he falls to his knees
pain of the deepest slash
bleeds through tears
flooding him with despair
as his knees sink deep
into mother earth
he calls out for mercy
only to hear laughter
a sinister laugh of no other
then his wretched foe
the murderer of his love
sword in hand he took stance
facing empty air
the laughter reverberating
through the valley
cutting deeper into his moral soul
than any weapon could every do
he puts down his sword knowing
a battle will be his death
avenging his love is another way
he calls to his foe
you’ve murdered only one
of my two beloveds
i still have your wife’s love
and she waits for me now
a flash of light explodes
knocking him down
tearing a hole in the earth
fuming with fury stands his foe
hands of attack they both roll
falling down to their deaths. 

 

River Urke and I have entered into a duel poetry challenge and this is the resulting poem.  Duel Poetry:  a prearranged poetry writing challenge  between two people to evolve a new poem where each writer must respond to the other writer’s lines  (4 -5 ) until both parties agree that the poem is complete

deimos inn…

Final Challenge Image from Jade

  

with the lights on
there is nothing to fear
this is just another hotel room
a place for
an itinerate soul to visit
everything seems in place
but
when the lights are off
this place becomes a prison
nothing is where it’s supposed to be
the floor
is quicksand beneath my feet
the door has bars of anger
holding back my freedom
my thoughts rattle
around the room
seeking a familiar corner
the air is foul
and
stale with formality
my misery
has no place to hide
it cannot find
a warm spot to rest
so it paces
back and forth
in my mind
refusing to rest
until the dawn
when i release it outside
where it can run away from me
and swing in the trees
with childish expectations
but it is hours
before dawn
so i sit alone
with the lights
on

This poem represents my last response to  the second challenge series between Jade and I.  As you may recall, each poet provides the other with a series of photos, visual prompts,  from which the poet is to write a poem.  Jade has written her response which can be found here