Spin us a poem of precisely 44 words (not counting the title), containing some form or other of the word spin. In response to – dVerse Quadrille #204, hosted by De Jackson aka WhimzyGizmo, this week.
Be sure to make the popular choice
not loosing your hierarchical liberties
We can’t allow the power of greed
to turn back the wheels of time
Spinning all we have gained,
all we have built to spin reversed
by a swipe of his pen
She was sturdy and loyal and sure
for much longer than anyone knew
Age crept upon her body so slowly
adventurous miles kept her young
A rare model made with care and skill
not like the new ones of this time
Her body heavy and solid and sure
but still a lovely sweeping design
Her color once a vibrant blue
washed out by the sun and the rain
Had turned a worn sort of faded hue
the only sign of her extended years
A sputter here and a stall there
foretold the arrival of her impending end
A tune-up, some oil and little grease
kept her going another few miles
The day came when her engine went still
the mechanic shook his head and said
It’s the end for your old blue jeep I fear
watched her go with tears streaming down
Time crawls by
minutes drip slowly
into hours
Endless loops of waiting
aching for the rejoining
the return of life
No end in sight
hopeless days fade
into distraught nights
Awaiting the light
the return of warmth
the security of strong arms
An invisible shroud
placed upon my body
By fates or Gods or happen chance
I do not know nor ever will I
Perhaps I was meant to be
a great leader of nations
Bringing peace and goodwill
to a world turned so dark
Or a great warrior among women
vanquishing injustice and setting things right
Whatever it was that was preordained
has been circumvented by physical pain
Instead of fighting for good
in a world filled with effluent evil
I have been set to fight myself each day
with a smile to hide my grinding jaw
The floods came
unexpected, unannounced.
chasing the living
into death, into nothingness.
The sea, so beautiful and kind,
turned angry, turned malicious.
Water once dipped in cerulean blue,
covers the earth in blankets of red.
Vehicles of man tied to tar ribbons,
bob without direction,
without combustion,
atop debris laden rivers of waste.
Livestock no longer living,
rush past on fields of favored fodder,
an uneaten cache of bloated
sweet grass and hay.
Mother Earth in her glorious wonder,
provided well and took away.
Unable to sustain that which was given,
she will try again, but not on this day.
Up the street
and ‘round the corner
Sits an old log house
with only one room in her
Yellow warning signs
nailed here and there
Warn any trespassers
they had better beware
Cobweb squatters
fill every nook and cranny
Birds nests line beams
up high in the attic
Decades of dust carpet
the old wood floor
Where scuff marks once trailed
in and out of the door
Books no longer sit
upon the old cedar shelves
Built into the wall
some say by elves
But I know the truth
though I keep it to myself
This was Grandma’s schoolroom
where she taught us all to count
On the outside looking
into a life that’s never been.
A life that to me
would mean the end
of loneliness and suffering.
Living through your eyes
your life and these times.
Locked as I am in this chair,
filled with hidden despair,
abject hopelessness.
You are a lifeline to things
never experienced by me.
Knowing that it could never be
that way for me, without you,
your energy and love of life.
That you chose a broken one,
that dampens your adventures
and often spoils your fun.
Never on purpose, but as the fates
choose to cut me down again and again.
On the outside looking in,
wishing for more, yet thankful to be
a part of your days and heated nights.
Stay with me now, as long as allows,
let me love you as only I know how.
Unfathomable despair
flickering in the shadows
An omen known to one and all
the portent of demons is 666
Dark wings cloaked
behind a gloaming orange hue
Hide the cunning charlatan
his evil flame deep within
His messages born
from the heat of his rage
Destroy what’s good
propagating hate in his name
In order to set things as they need to be
we must fight to our deaths
To secure the rights of women and men
and not stop until we see this to the end
In response to WDYS #248 posted by Sadje at Life After 50 for Women
Come with me
said the face in the aged tree
Come to where the wind always blows
where your feet never leave the warm soil
Come with me
said the girl to the aged tree
Come see the sites in the busy city
where cars jostle for stops and spots
Upon your branches she did crawl
up to the top and every single twig
Upon your branches did she fall
where she lives within you now evermore
There’s laughter in the hallway
just outside my door
It’s dark in here where I lay
blankets piled high to keep me warm
Beeps and whistles sound
throughout the tortuous night
A stick while I lay sleeping
wakes my slumber every two hours
A platter of food arrives
unappetizing and dry
The cooking worse than mine
even on a tv dinner night
Close my eyes and dream
of warm sand and lapping waves
The sound of seagulls as they hunt
for scraps of food or errant crabs
Instead of the smell of antiseptic
a salty breeze clears my nose
In my dreams I’m there with you
and not laying here all alone
Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words 