she who laughs last…

digital decoupage cwmartin 2011

he awoke
to find her
tracing the shape
of his face
ever so delicately
his knife
his hands
and feet
tied to the bed
had thrown
her into
just a few
beers ago
she moved
so differently
like the prey
that had become
the hunter
she didn’t
say a word
as she
his pride
but he
to a god
had forgotten

Morituri te salutamus…

Challenge Photo From Jade

beneath these still
dark waters
I rest
in the ancestral clay
a fallen soul
a warrior
for a just cause
a cause
long forgotten
like all
just causes
wrapped in heroic flags
of country
my soul
like the thousands
have been reduced
to a few pages
in a history book
in some
i am a hero
others cast me
as a devil
but i was
just a man
brought here
on swift currents
once i was struck
by a child’s arrow
a child i showed mercy
from my blade
but as I forged the stream
his arrow pierced my back
into my heart
killing me without honor
for he

This poem represents my first 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 first response which can be found here.  Yes…I know my Latin was bad, but haven’t used it since high school and trust me that was a long time ago.

the wood carver….


his hands bore the scars
of learning his trade
the thick calluses in his palms
were like the rings of a tree
sharing with those who chose to look
his years upon this earth
this piece beneath his blade
was now complete
a sea
where each wave
seemed to move
as eyes scanned the horizon
at a distance
one could see a small
yet distinct
fishing boat
bouncing with expectation
of a bountiful harvest
and sea gulls
cruising through the sky
one would swear
they saw the wings
move from time to time
so precise was his work
but do not look for this place
nor the life he portrayed
for now you will only find
the black death of oil
smeared upon the scene
erasing the history of this place